You know, this evening I was actually lecturing my brother on the conspiracy someone in the building has to keep me from using the dryer. The. Fucking. Dryer.
Maybe I was bored?
Now, to explain, I find it necessary to say that my brother, god bless him, is a little unconvinced that my brain chemistry is fucked up. In order to remain unconvinced, he has to come up with other reasons I would imagine such a bizarre scenario. This time, he chose, "Justin doesn't understand how pay dryers work." A reasonable choice. In fact, in order to maintain my delusion it was necessary to ignore and overlook a wide variety of ways pay dryers in apartment complexes work.
Anyway, I was going to go on . . . it got worse from there, but only because we're both under a lot of stress and tend to dwell on ancient hurt feelings and defensive attitudes in such circumstances. Example: I tried to apologize for an earlier misunderstanding in the conversation and instead managed to accuse him of treating me as if I was stupid.
Never, ever accuse my brother of treating you as if you're stupid. He wouldn't do such a thing, and he's so convinced the rest of the family treats him that way (we might, but to be honest I know damn well if we do it's not intentional) he gets really, really angry that we'd accuse him of such a horrible crime.
Anyway . . . family drama sorts itself out, particularly when it involves my brother and I. Often, we can walk away from each other for a little while and come back as if nothing ever happened. We both know we'd die for the other whether or not he was treating us like we were stupid that day. The rest is meaningless drivel in the long run . . .
Now, I'll explain a little, seeing as I've been gone for a few months. Bad habit. I LIKE writing in here, but I tend not to, because what I really, REALLY like is to deprive myself of what brings me pleasure as some sort of punishment for all the imaginary crimes I've committed . . .
Isn't it nice to know that even if I didn't have occasional attacks of paranoid delusions I'd still be emotionally stunted and immature?
I have, however, been busy and short on time. I had to find a full-time job. Pronto. I'd been given a 2-month "Leave, or else" deadline by my step-father. I don't blame him for being sick of my shit; I blame him for being so abrupt and unrealistic about it. Really: I was supposed to a) find full-time work that supported me, and b) save up enough money to move into an apartment in 2 months, despite the fact that I own no furniture and very little in the way of dishes, etc.
I did it, but I assure you I've been performing a financial tight-rope act the entire time, and will be forced to continue to do so for another month at least.
I'm now living in my brother's apartment, subletting his room because he's moving cross-country. Of course, I moved in on the first, and he's not moving out until the eleventh, which means I'm essentially living on the couch with all my shit in boxes. My brother, meanwhile, is taking the single most stressful step in his unfortunately stressful life. Tensions are running high . . .
Still, I am living on my own (well, I have roomates, but you get the idea). I'm taking steps to organize my life and live it the way I feel is appropriate. These are good things, and maybe, just maybe, I won't fuck them up a third time . . .
I miss you all. I'm really shitty about saying such things, and I certainly can't act in any way that reflects that, but it's still true. I may desire to show nothing but kindness and obsessive devotion to my friends, but all that comes into my head is mysterious conspiracies by random people with dirty clothes.
I'll have pills soon. I can't afford them. I really, REALLY can't afford them, but it's going to happen. Soon. I just have a few more bureaucratic hoops to jump through.
I'll be able to handle myself better, then. Pills are a good thing.
When my brother moves out, I won't have a computer. When / if I manage to get my finances straightened out, that will change. In the meantime, I'll have vague access to computers at other locations on random days and evenings. Bear with my spottiness a little while longer. You've all been very patient with me, and I appreciate it. It can't be easy dealing with a nutjob.
Peace and love, kats and kittens.