#nothomeanymore

[driedclementine]

Hearing this lady talk shit about her own daughter for choosing to get tattoos and piercings just makes me want to throw up. It is sickening to me that your judgemental ass can’t just leave people be, especially your own child. What happens when you want what’s best for your kids but you can’t actually let them be in touch with who they want to be as a human being? They move halfway across country and you never actually get to see them much. Once they realize that this is not how they want to live, they are gone with the wind. And there’s nothing you can do about it once the trust is broken. And they are under no obligation to forgive you. They don’t even have to put up with you. So respect your children and listen to them instead of being the one to always be talking. Otherwise you’re suffocating them, and once they get a taste of fresh air they will sure as hell never want to get close enough so that you drown them again.

[preben16]

Looks and smells and reminds me of home #nothomeanymore 😪#reality #disappointed #closeddoor

[nothingbutpudding]

Home was where the heart was

Instead of staying in my warm, updated cozy apartment,

I came home. 

I came home to my childhood home to see my parents, knowing I would deal with awkward towny encounters, re-live memories up and down the street, stumble into uncomfortable conversations about my life as an adult, and entertain myself with tv, attempting not to freeze in this oversized, outdated, underheated farm house. I came home to see my parents.

After making dinner tonight I even hinted at cookies to come later. Granny's Peanut butter, one of my favorites. 

It wasn't until getting halfway through the dishes that my tolerance and humor ran out. Each time I stepped away from the sink, i noticed water on the floor below the basin. I grabbed paper towels, assumed I had spilled water while rinsing pots and pans, and kept going. A few minutes later, I felt a wet sensation on my toes through my slippers. An entire puddle was on the floor. Dreading the likely cause, I opened up the cabinet under the sink.

I've been home three days, and neither of my parents thought I needed to know about the leaky newly "replaced" pipe. Apparently the drip wasn't "that bad" and would be replaced when the weather gets warmer. An entire bucket was full of leak water and overflowing into the bags and dish storage in the cabinet, but it's "not that bad".

I am not making cookies tonight. I am not making dinner tomorrow. I want to go home, to the home that functions. I wanted to see my parents, but their idea of "fixed" is beyond anything I can understand. 

Just four more days here.