Always easier said than done— “no more.” “No more, will I live like this.”
Yeah, so I tried creating a Facebook page earlier in the month. I created another email account, I liked the Supernatural page. And then, the next day round, I couldn’t get back in. No mobile number, no govt.-issued ID (basically, no life? too bad.). So… one like on Supernatural and that’s it. So far, the account appears deactivated, so I’m not sure if the Like is even there now.
Yeah, so another part of the plasterboard ceiling came down. The section right above me where I sleep. The upside out of this: it didn’t come down on me, it landed nicely facing the door to the room, beside the bed. The downside: I can’t sleep in that bed anymore. The contaminated leak water is dripping on my pillow. I must sleep in the other room, with a bed that hurts my back.
I mentioned the collapsing ceiling issue before in 2012. And, stepping to take half of the plasterboard that collapsed outside, the floor before the front door went through; you can see the basement. “How poor, there’s a hole in the floor! —Watch your step!”
I hope people get the trouble I’m in. And I’m trying to tell this without fear.
This whole time… in a sort of captivity. And oh, we’ll be moving to an apartment, my mother says, with her normalcy bias and the rotting house; I wonder what decade that’ll occur in. Fear… Sorry.
Before things started all physically falling apart, for years I’ve been alone in this house. To the detriment of my mental health—no friends, not even conversation.
If ever a time I needed someone to talk to… it would be all these years, and now. Once I finished High School, there was nothing, no one. Get it?
And I let Eric and another Eric down. (Strange— similar first names.) I rejected so much out of fear, and it literally kills me. I ignored/forgotten people altogether… what should I have gotten but people ignoring/forgetting me in return? (I need to grow, but people seem to just let me down, and I guess I’ve taken it out on possible friends.)
Oh, you know it’s bad when the only live conversation I can get is Big Brother: After Dark. This season isn’t bad, though; CBS/TVGN allowed Frankie to respond to a letter he got, last night—the death of his wonderful grandparent, with the same name.
The house I live in— this evil house… keeps me tethered. Like a low-grade evil, affecting the inexperienced, the vulnerable (i.e., me).
I can’t change much, and I can’t grow without help. I want to, I need to. But even a no more stance… what’ll that do?
What’s in the cards? Can you…insert cards that shouldn’t be there? Wait, that’s cheating. …Wild cards?…
…But after all this, all my hell, there is still reason.
There is still and always reason to believe in optimism. (But you still have to raise your standards!)