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You're still in transition....to doing women's work.I realized that because my mom didn't raise me to be a decent human being who would just help around the house, I was raised with this idea that going to work entitles one to not have to do house work. So, I feel remarkably unmotivated to help out here being I am the only adult in the house who has to earn income.
I do that (plenty of times it's been car work by day, kitchen work by night). It's just I've remembered so much about my repressed childhood and past since I moved back in with my parents and realized even for surgery recovery that was a terrible mistake. Like the reason for me getting irate when they make noise is because I wasn't allowed to make more than the absolutely bare minimum needed to live. Anything louder than that and it was intolerably loud for them to the point they thought it was appropriate to record me and play it back and humiliate me over it (more recently it was me putting dishes away, eliciting a "god, you make a lot of noise" from mom). Being so low ultra low priority to them I'm expected to drop my laundry immediately because it can wait and clean the litter box (which I pointed out, can also wait and doesn't have to be immediately done). And a whole galaxy full of hypocrisies and double standards.You're still in transition....to doing women's work.
Sounds....uh....vexing.I do that (plenty of times it's been car work by day, kitchen work by night). It's just I've remembered so much about my repressed childhood and past since I moved back in with my parents and realized even for surgery recovery that was a terrible mistake. Like the reason for me getting irate when they make noise is because I wasn't allowed to make more than the absolutely bare minimum needed to live. Anything louder than that and it was intolerably loud for them to the point they thought it was appropriate to record me and play it back and humiliate me over it (more recently it was me putting dishes away, eliciting a "god, you make a lot of noise" from mom). Being so low ultra low priority to them I'm expected to drop my laundry immediately because it can wait and clean the litter box (which I pointed out, can also wait and doesn't have to be immediately done). And a whole galaxy full of hypocrisies and double standards.
It's too the point I don't care if it comes out now that she was absolutely horrible and terrible with a trans-woman she used to work with, and I came very close to shoving her once when she was yelling and screaming at me at the top of her lungs and told me not to brake a vacuum hose because she can't afford to replace it, being followed anger provoking "I can replace you, I can't replace that."
So, I just get thoughts like not feeling motivated to help around the house, just because I work, they don't, it's how I was raised.
One of the last times my brother and I got to spend time with each other, we found out we are very remarkably similar. Not in all ways, and we are distinctively different, but we found out that our mom (through genes and upbringing) and the depths of our depression (his was exploded a couple months after his 4th birthday when his dad was murdered Christmas morning) shaped us to be disturbingly alike, especially in our general cynicism, pessimism, and especially misanthropy. We both built up our Wall, and it looks like I've become the only one who will call our parents out on something.Sounds....uh....vexing.
You should relieve it by mauling the **** out of people in Revoltingest's thread.I may or may not...be getting a headache
You're hungover dude. It is Wednesday.Usually, after a three-day weekend, a lot of people come into work on Tuesday and mistakenly think it's Monday. But today, I kept thinking it was Wednesday.
Tomorrow is Wednesday. Darn.
You're hungover dude. It is Wednesday.
You're obviously not EST.Not for another hour and 27 minutes.
You're obviously not EST.
Again.
And I discovered there is uneven wear in both sides, though the other side is not as pronounced as the other side.
I'm again considering going fiber-ceramic.
Families are the worst, eh.One of the last times my brother and I got to spend time with each other, we found out we are very remarkably similar. Not in all ways, and we are distinctively different, but we found out that our mom (through genes and upbringing) and the depths of our depression (his was exploded a couple months after his 4th birthday when his dad was murdered Christmas morning) shaped us to be disturbingly alike, especially in our general cynicism, pessimism, and especially misanthropy. We both built up our Wall, and it looks like I've become the only one who will call our parents out on something.
I just won't be able to get our sister here and bring up how she has complained about the same things from our parents and said basically the same things. My brother did do that a couple times (I walked into it once). But it wouldn't do any good. Even though I wouldn't if I could. Even if it's true what we're all saying, my sister always denies it to our parents. Even when mom knows she said it, my sister denies it. And I also wouldn't because if I get that pissed I don't need her denial adding to it.
At least I got the distance though this time to be able to get a much needed fresh look at them. They generally put on a good front for the world, but underneath I've finally seen they just aren't good people. But, according to mom, if any one does notice anything that isn't right she is an endless bag of excuses as her core is a bioluminescence gas that puts creatures dwelling in the deepest parts of the ocean to shame.