On

On being fucking horrified at yourself from two years ago. Don't get much more fun than that, yo.

I want to point out awesomely that you are responsible for your own thoughts (sorta) and actions and all that goodthink. And then think how wow I am at thinking the right things. But when I turn it around into just retelling myself that I am responsible. Well then the party's over.

But anyway. To recap what I've already spilled.

I've tried so many times to explain it that I can't remember if I've actually posted before about the dreams I have er have had for the past oh idunno going on five years now where it's basically a rehash of being around my mom and she's flipping out screaming at me or somehow fucking things up usually in public and I'm freaking out too, either well not either but crying and like. Fighting with her. Trying to set things right. ha. Reliving the death that she's allowed herself to become.

and then waking up in the middle of the night because it's a horrible fucking dream and then kinda freaked out because holy shit dude I've been crying in my sleep and it's a good damn thing my nails are short 'cause I've had my hands balled up into tight fists by the time I come to. And of course it's like...3am and the room's dark and it's kinda

*tilts head back* kinda spooky to wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream. Oh, it freaks you out too.

But only from her. The Other Stuff doesn't bother me. Unless I go back to it. Which admittedly I mistakenly thought I'd "have to" when I first talked to my dad, but no. He's got an idea of that... I guess at least that he knows there's stuff I haven't told him. I don't really want to tell him, not out of shame, but just that I don't need to upset him.

But only from her. Yeah there's some really graphic memories I have of too many other things, but as soon as I'm asleep they're gone I have gosh what's that called. I have rest.

So where was I going. Oh yeah. They started about four years ago. I move...no I didn't move. She got us evicted and called me at school about anyway that was about six years ago. Math is fun.

It got interesting when my dad told me that he's got PTSD for something and I looked up symptoms and wow gosh. Didn't really help too much or anything, or make it easier to deal with. But trivia is fun.

So last week I got one again. But muted. I was there and pissed off, but I wasn't alone, there was someone with me, and we both kinda...watched her. I probably told this person "my side" or something, but it wasn't nearly as intense a feeling of "have to make things right" as before.

Was it someone I know with me? *shrug* Don't remember. Don't think it was anyone in this life I know, or anyone in other, hey look over there, but just, someone.

Last night. Well, Saturday night/Sunday morning.

I left her. She started going ballistic, some guy threw my stuff out of the apartment for her (they looked like different people, but I don't even know what she looks like now anyway). I picked up some of the stuff, sold some other things, and left. Hitched a ride with someone, sold some other things, the guy who threw my stuff out tried catching up to me to lecture me. So I kept leaving.

And then woke up. Sorta.

Oh hey look a cartoon!