I'm glad you're feeling a little better, Zen.

Luckily, I'm not addicted to caffeine. But I don't have a big monthly income so tossing $8 of coffee down the drain means more to me than it does to him. It also pisses me off that it was my visiting brother (Golden Boy) moving the pot (and using my coffee beans) that brought this on. He doesn't get yelled at, I do.

I asked my mom if Dad was in a mood. She said not especially. I said, "Well, that seemed to come out of left field so I was wondering if something has put him in a mood." She said one of my other brothers had had a fit during T-day because a suit he'd left here to be picked up by Golden Boy had had its pants go missing and she thought he must be transferring some of that anger on to me. Lucky me.

I'm definitely wishing I had not moved here as it's almost sure to make the relationship with my parents worse than it is and it is also kicking the shit outta my self-esteem. I'm not sure how I would have made things work up there. Perhaps if I'd known exactly how bad this would be, I could have at least looked at Section 8 a year ago and maybe have applied before the waiting list closed.

On days like this it's not hard to be sure that I should get out of here. But on days that are more tranquil, I begin to fool myself that maybe things could be different. Which is pretty much what I've done my whole life, I guess. Despite knowing that I have to get out of here and knowing how hard that will be if I don't find a way to make a living despite the disablity, I'm still scared about going back to VO without taking a lot of refresher classes and having a mentor. So I keep putting that off although I really shouldn't.

One of the potentially good things about my current situation is that if I try to build a clientele and work freelance, I might make enough $ to throw me off SSDI. If I were living by myself, I'd be on the street. But if I am living here, I think they wouldn't throw me in the street if I could no longer pay rent regularly due to being thrown of SSDI before I had worked VO into a steady sufficient stream of income yet. Or maybe I'm dreaming.

Spidra, that is both ridiculous and awful. I'm so sorry you have to deal with things like that.

Fuck! We just got home from our lovely weekend only to find a window on our side door has been broken. I called my landlord to see if he knew about it, which he didn't. Gee, I wonder why my neighbors wouldn't call about it? t sarcasm, the tag that just won't close

Ooh, I hate neighbors like that. All the annoyance and none of the good points. I hope it's just the window, sj.

I'm sorry, I should have said, it is just the window. It doesn't look like anyone was in here or stole anything. It's the outside door and nothing seems to be tampered with on the door that leads to my actual apartment. However, my neighbors have already given me every reason to hate them, so I can just add this to the list.

Spidra, I'm sorry you're stuck in such a bad situation. I hope you can find a way to get un-stuck soon.

sj, bad neighbors suck. May you have better neighbors soon.

Well, it IS his house. Wanting to have things his way is not personal against you, really, it's just him wanting things his way in his house, the way we all do. Sounds like he's way crankier about it than I would be, but I understand the impulse. Even though it's a family house, you are a guest there.

My mom puts butter on everything and NEVER puts in in the fridge, so there's always a melty, crumb-bedecked butter dish on the counter. She has a small kitchen, so it takes up half the counter space. I used to put it in the fridge whenever I stayed there, as I couldn't take it. She finally said that she likes butter soft and she's done this way all her life and I was not to touch it. When I make something for myself, I have to work around the yucky thing. But, it's her house. When she visits me, the butter goes in the fridge.

I hope you can get work soon which allows you to have your own place and then when he comes over, you can tell him in no uncertain terms to stay the hell away from your coffeepot!

Scrappy, I agree it's his house. However, when he was visiting my house he didn't listen to me about how I preferred things. So, for instance, he would leave the toilet seat up. And he would go to the bathroom leaving the door open.

He also didn't speak to me respectfully about it, he yelled at me.

Oh, he's got severe Cranky Old Man Syndrome for sure, but I guess I am saying that if you feel like more of a guest there, then it won't feel personal and hurt you, since the same rules don't apply as would to your own place. And what is WITH the older guys leaving the bathroom door open? MY F-i-L does that and I don't get it. His wife, daughters and sons all complain about it, and he doesn't care, since he has the same Cranky Old Man Syndrome.

This is not mere Cranky Old Man Syndrome. My father is a domineering bullying man. I was emotionally abused throughout my childhood and that was far worse than any physical batting around I endured. People who have worked under him lived in fear of his yelling, his belittling, his sarcasm, his condescension. He is unpredictable in his anger and that unpredictability created some coping behaviors in me that have not served me well in my life and that I'm trying hard to overcome.

I don't want to get into a nitty gritty explanation of things. All I can say is that this isn't me being stubborn about some rule I knowingly broke or running around here feeling entitled. It's living in a way where you never know what thing you do will set off a concentrated burst of anger, belittling and yelling. And getting yelled at by him is not experienced by me as an isolated event with only the power of that event. I almost can't go through it without having flashbacks.

(((Spidra))) I wish there was away you could get out of there.