Fuck me, fuck my life, and fuck my family. I just finally got a concrete answer from the family member I've been staying with (to help with his recovery from surgery and having stents put in) about when he's finally going to be okay with me going back home.
I'm not being released from my obligation to him until the day before my older sibling comes down for a visit. Which fucking means I'm trapped here until after my 30th fucking birthday. I don't actually care about my birthday that much. But I haven't been living at my own home, since the end of January, that makes it 5 and ½ months. I've spent nearly half a year living with this asshole. Uprooted my fucking life to help him. He is the most frustrating person in my family outside of the member with dementia, and even she's less frustrating in a daily capacity. I'm just so done between spending last year taking care of my mom as she recovered from 3 surgeries, to spending half this year living with and helping this asshole.
I swear I'm one piece of hay away from breaking, and a part of me is anxious that spending my 30th birthday living under his roof may just be the breaking point. If I weren't sorta disassociatiting writing this vent, I'd probably be sobbing in frustration and anger. But it's all fine because I'm the family member everyone just expects to be the rock and help steady everyone else through their own hardships and issues 🙃
What else can I do but suck it the fuck up until I'm free. I certainly can't afford a grippy sock vacation, I've got people who rely on me, and if something were to happen to them because I'm not there to help, well that may just break me even more than my own burn out (yeah yeah, I know this is an unhealthy mindset, go ahead and sue me. I'm just venting).
Anyways fuck my family, fuck my brain, and fuck my entire life amirite?