Blow Out

Well, I've definitely found out a few truths in my life. This house is too small for the 3 of us. I've been having incredible difficulty with everyone bumping into me, getting into my space, making me move unexpectedly.

I don't know when this started, or if it's always been this way. But it isn't working for me right now. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Last week I had a major blow out. I was mowing, opened the radio shack/shed to find standing water in it with water marks 3" up the furniture. The more I mowed, the angrier I got. I'm mad that I'm here and had to find it. I'm mad at myself because I feel responsible when I live with 2 other adults. I'm mad at my brother for pushing so hard to have M&D get this damn thing. I'm mad at Mom for thinking it was a great idea. I'm mad at Dad for the same reason. I'm mad because I've been telling them all summer long there was a water problem and they didn't do anything. I'm mad at Mom because she's playing the victim. I'm mad at Dad because he's playing the martyr - and yes there's a difference between victim and martyr. Subtle, but there. I'm mad because I can't do anything about any of that.

I got so angry that I'm still recovering. I'm still highly irritable. I'm still tired. Still dizzy.

I recognized that I had to let go of the whole thing that day, but am still paying for it. But - it's not my building and it's not my stuff.

But I'd like a chance for it to be my stuff. It was all wooden antiques that belonged to my grandparents. I've always loved that bedroom suite - and it's ruined. There's a really long story that goes with it besides - baggage - but it's ruined now. My sister always loved the diningroom set. Well, the chairs are toast. I'll try if I ever feel up to it, but I doubt they can be restored.

I'm heartbroken that the stuff is going to end up as pretty firewood when it didn't have to be.

I'd really like to know what Karma I'm dealing with right now.

So here I am, still trying to figure out a way to make that stupid shack work. I started a conversation about it with Dad. He took it personally, so we ended up snarling at each other with him buying roofing sealer to smear over the entire shack. If I hadn't donated the feather pillows, we could have some fun, but since I did, I'd rather not have a sticky black cube sitting behind the garage waiting for the nearby maple to start really shedding leaves. Just not what I think of as attractive or functional.

So I hid the sealant. When in Rome, learn Passive Agressive behavior.

So, back in rage hangover mode. Not a pretty place to be. Not as bad as last time, but still not a great place to be.

Am going to try to talk to Mom about warning me when she wants me to move rather than just charging me. Wish me luck.