#i’m just extra worried bc she’s 12 & she’s gotten so skinny &

[ladytauria]

nnn

woke up too late to call the vet today

but i decided to leave a voicemail so i wouldn’t forget on monday

[ghost-town-story]

... The more I sit here and am allowed to think, the more pissed off and upset I get

Rant blog status reinstated!

So firstly, I’m not happy about getting kicked off campus. But social distancing shit, whatever I guess, whatcha gonna do. 

But no. My fucking mother takes the goddamned fucking cake rn. 

We got the email about being kicked off around 4 pm eastern time, Monday. My mother. This fucking woman. Calls me and insists I pack my stuff and get off campus by Tuesday morning. Packing is normally at least a few days ordeal, especially since I hate packing and it always stresses me out a bunch. But done in little spurts, okay I guess, more doable. 

But noooo I have to get out by Tuesday. Fucking. Morning. And this woman actually has the gall, the fucking gall to halfheartedly suggest I start out Monday evening since I’ve gone nocturnal. 

I tried to tell her there’s no fucking way, but she wouldn’t fucking listen. So she hangs up, and I go down the hall bc I desperately need a hug by this point, and she’s a sweetheart but the only roommate available is a gangly skinny girl and not the type of hugs I need. (really, boyfriend would be ideal, but at the time he was in Colorado visiting his sister). And I end up breaking down on huggin friend’s couch bc I hate packing, and I don’t feel like I can pack up a year’s worth of shit in about 12 hours. 

Mom eventually calls me again, mostly just to tell me “yeah you need to pack up and get back tonight, your roommate can grab the 1-2 bins remaining.” And she refuses to listen to me saying “hey, it’s a solid 2 loads in my car, it’s not gonna be 1-2 bins”  “But it fit all in your first car!” “My first car was a fuckin beast, literally the largest car in the lot freshman year. Fred is definitely shorter, definitely less trunk space, etc.”  “Well Y can get the last few bins.” “It’s a lot of stuff!” “It won’t be that much” JUST FUCKING LISTEN YOU PIECE OF SHIT FFS

I was so stressed and crying that huggin friend stole my phone when I was texting my boyfriend, and had him call me so I could maybe stop crying. I miss my boy. Hearing him was good tho.

I’m packing up my stuff in the bathroom when I remember. I store my empty bins at my brother’s place (2 hrs north). I double check with him and call my mom back “I can’t leave tomorrow. It’s too much to pack, and some of my bins are at Brother’s.”  Despite all this, despite me literally breaking down and crying on the phone, she refuses to listen, to give me an extra day, to bring half my stuff up to my brother’s (and therefore eliminate most of the need to have my roommate take my stuff) and grab my extra bins. Nope, gotta get out.

I was staring at my room, halfheartedly packing and trying to figure out, and just sobbing out loud. I thought remaining roommate was gone at dinner, otherwise I would have tried to be quiet. But she had gotten back without me noticing, and when she poked her head in, I couldn’t do it anymore and just kinda. Fell to the ground crying and apologizing. She’s a such a sweetheart and I feel bad for probably worrying her (and possibly waking her up in the middle of the night with packing noises)

I texted my roommate about this. She basically said, “Wtf, what she’s asking isn’t possible.”

Same thing from my boyfriend. 

My mom kept texting me, asking how things were going, basically ignoring my subtle requests for more fucking time. At one point she said “Hang in there”. I sent a screenshot of that to my roommate and boyfriend and asked, “Is murder acceptable?” Roommate said a solid yes. Boyfriend offered to let me live with him. (cept 2 hour parking and I already got one ticket from that :P)

Mom texted around 10 pm, asking if things were fitting in the car. I wasn’t even remotely to the point of packing the car. I was basically at break number 2 of mandatory “sit down, have something to eat, and rehydrate after crying so damn much”. I think I had one bin completely done (out of what ended up being like. 6 bins? plus assorted bags n stuff) and was mostly done packing my clothes, but like. slow going. Especially when packing is stressful and you keep getting overwhelmed woot woot

I put off a fair number of things bc of panicking about time and simple emotional capability to do so. Sorting out my dishes, unlofting my bed, grabbing my band shit from the music hall across campus.

At some point in the night, I had to lay down, because my body decided “hey, you know what would be great right now? Period cramps, minus the blood.” Which, thank fuck minus the blood, but also it meant I had to spend a solid half hour/hour out of commission bc it hurt so damn much to walk around and try to pack. But I had to keep going, even though the pain came back when I stood up again.  

Mom texted me at 7 am if I’m awake. I hadn’t slept. 

We have housekeepers, and they got there around when I was finishing loading up. I stopped and chatted for a bit (nobody had told them what was going on), and nearly started crying again because it was just so damn shitty. Everything’s so damn shitty. 

So I got on the road at about 8 am, and get to driving for a bit, but about 1.5 hours in I’m doing bad. I can barely keep focused, despite drinking probably half a bottle of Mt. Dew by this point, so I pull into a rest stop and text my mom “Hey, I forgot my shampoo/conditioner/toothbrush stuff, and also I don’t think I can get home safe.”

Does my mother tell me to take a nap in that rest stop? Nope Does she tell me to find a hotel or motel there and take a nap/sleep and try again tomorrow? Nope Does she tell me I can go back to school, sleep through the day, and try again tomorrow? Ha ha fucking ha.

Nope. She calls me, and proceeds to tell me to keep driving, and that she’s going to stay on the phone with me so I don’t fall asleep. 

I yelled at her quite a few times, when she was being fucking stupid about all this shit. She had the fucking gall to be pissed that I pulled an all nighter, when that’s what was fucking necessary to meet her stupid fucking deadline. 

At one point, I made a new driving playlist so hopefully it would keep me awake better while I wasn’t on the phone (being serenaded... awake? by the lovely voice of Tilian lel (lots of DGD and his solo work on that playlist. Also ATL. Fuck yeah ATL. anywho)). And right after I made that, she ended up calling me before I was driving yet, and I rejected it bc I really wanted to finish my text to the dear bf, and then I started driving, thinking she’d call me back and chew me out for ignoring her, but surprisingly nope. So I just jam out for a bit, and eventually start yelling at myself bc of dumb writing ideas (the original story rewrite... lol) and I end up texting my roommate (while driving... shh) “Hey, feel free to call me if you want to hear me ramble on about writing” So after a short phone call from mum where she hung up to let me drive through a city, roommate calls, and I end up spending the last few hours of my drive rambling at her and mutually bitching about the shitty situation this leaves us in. 

When I get home, my dad (a doctor) is wearing a mask, apparently at my mother’s request. He also mentions that we probably shouldn’t be in the same room, according to her. I am also forced to strip everything and shower basically immediately. K, fine, I do so, Dad makes me dinner (despite Mom’s probable disapproval), and I stay awake just long enough to toss my laundry in the dryer. It was a close thing tho. I nearly fell asleep waiting for the washer to finish. And so I pass out at 8 pm central time (9 pm eastern)

Mom, during all this, has fucked off Up North to our cabin, my final destination.

Wednesday, Mom makes me leave our place in the Cities at 11 am to get up before weather gets worse and all that jazz. Once here, I’m allowed freedom for as long as it takes to help mother move shit so I can fit my car inside a garage, then I take the bare minimum inside (my electronics, stuff that would explode if frozen (like pop (and my Smirnoff Ices shh)), travel toothbrush I somehow have and hairbrush), and I’m immediately quarantined to my room and the bathroom down the hall. 

So here I fucking am. Bored as shit and pissed the hell off

I needed more time. But no fucking way Mom was going to let that happen. 

I could have gone up to my brother’s. But noooo I had to come all the fucking way home, only to be shoved in a room for two weeks.

I could have taken care of all/most of my shit by my fucking self (dishes are debatable, would need basically the whole apartment to sort those out), but nope, can’t take enough time to take a trip up to my brother’s apartment 2 hours away, no way.

Nope, instead I have to suffer a panic attack for basically 16 hours, then nearly kill myself driving, because I can’t stay one fucking day more, because I have to get my ass up here just to be basically shoved in a room and left alone for 2 goddamned weeks. Nope. Can’t fucking make sure that moving out, usually stressful on its own, is as calm as we can make it in these trying times. Nope. Gotta just fucking nearly kill the kiddo instead to comply with my stupid whims because I can’t fucking listen

I’m pissed.

Especially since I was almost 100% sure I was gonna block her everywhere and go full no contact with this bitch after college.

But now I’m stuck here for the foreseeable future! Yay! Can’t see that going badly! 

(I’ve already texted the anonymemers to call me so I don’t go crazy and actually punch her. We’ll see how that goes. The desire has been kinda strong all afternoon.)

Fuck

This

Shit