Hey, Miss J!

So many hobbies to do, so many assignments to do. I feel the madness bearing down on me now. It’s awful.

I had a weird nap-dream earlier where I was being bitten by the bones of a lambchop…

Yeah, it was strange.

So… some thoughts.

Day three (or four) of total radio silence with the family (I think). It’s very peaceful. No noise. No screaming. No insults or hissed out threats. No blood-pressure inducing madness. I was told years ago that if they didn’t fight with each other, something was wrong.

They forgot that I didn’t grow up with them. I grew up without violence in my home. It was outside my home when things went terribly sideways. I grew up without experiencing the daily trauma that all of them had to deal with.

I had a buffer – a cushion – from the nastiness out there. I could always go to my maternal grandparents and feel safe.

Since I lived with them, it wasn’t far to run either.

I care about my family, but I’d be dishonest if I said that I never felt awful being around them. In fact, I feel absolutely terrible with them. ALL. THE. TIME. I feel nauseous and stressed… It’s a gross sensation, like what you get from eating lots of old and tacky stringy cheese or something that has way too much grease in it.

You know you’ll get sick if you eat more than a mouthful and even a nibble might be enough to tip you over the edge.

They’re people though, not food. However, food has never harmed me as much as my family has. They bring out and encourage the worse in me.

Rage… indignation… fury… It all seems to run in the family, and I want no part of it.

I would prefer to keep things like this. Complete radio silence. I don’t want to hear from any of them. Ever again.

They can write me off and disregard me as dead if they want. Whatever helps them deal with not having me there anymore.

My mother has actually been deceased going on three years now – and the way I feel right now, she was all I had left. And as messed up as she was, I still miss her. Mom treated me like an enemy for most of my life, but before she died… I was able to hug her.

Her last words to me were for me to be careful because I was being watched.

Her psychosis was so bad… She’d see guys around my car at night, all with white hats on. And there was no one outside…

To this day, I wonder just what she saw, but I didn’t want to feed into it at the time.

I gave her a hug and told her I loved her. She literally squeezed the air out of me for a few seconds and told me she loved me too. And to be careful.

I miss her python hugs so much.

In comparison to my mother’s raging mental illnesses, my father’s side seems fairly normal by comparison.

Except they don’t have mental illness as an excuse for the way they behave. I’ve matured to the extent that I don’t allow loneliness to drive me toward them again. It’s like a recovering alcoholic trying to go into a bar and resist the temptation to drink.

For both of us, we need to just stay away. As far away as possible. Why risk it?

With mom, I didn’t have a choice to avoid her, but with dad? I do.

Does that make me an awful person?

I have the songs of birds downstairs on the TV, because Fluffball 1 and Fluffball 2 watch “CatTV”. I’ll admit I like to watch it too, especially when I’m trying to work through something. My favorites are still the ones with chipmunks… peacefully stuffing their little cheeks and ignoring the attempts of squirrels to run them off.

I also read my own writing to soothe myself. Nothing like some Peter/Jen fluff to make me happy. Or watch one of the many TV shows I paid for on Amazon Prime.

I also keep re-reading a “future” scene I have for Navigating the Curve. It’s… nice.

And no, not in a spicy way. In a floofy way.

Like my youngest cat – cept without all the bodyfat.

Poor thing. To be fair, he has lost at least five pounds since he got here. Or I got stronger.

One of those.

I’ll be writing a “To Do” list and getting at it. Cos, why not?

~J. Lyst

Oh! And it’s late, but yeah, I got back into my room. That much is obvious though because this is not a mobile phone post!

Thanks for sticking around and being so understanding… while I try to deal with what definitely counts as family drama now.

How are things with mom’s side? Well, they’re split into my grandma and granddad’s half. Granddad’s half, I’m cool with. Grandma’s side? I’m too poor for them to deal with me. Lots of business folk, lawyers and in general wealthy people. I don’t fit in. Never did.

Which is totally fine.