I've been up since 5 pm yesterday (woke up with a splitting fucking migraine, too, with a migraine-induced imaginary strong, saccharine chemical smell stuck in my nose, too), and I'm just now getting ready to cuddle up and go to bed, and I realize my aunt's here and she and my mum are cuttin' up and laughing.

And before that my mother was screaming and moaning in pain. And has been. For over 24 hours, because she fucking fell yesterday, again. I can't fault her for that, but she won't help herself, she won't go to the ER, and it takes a psychological toll on me, having to be exposed to that kind of human suffering, 24/7, but today and yesterday worse than usual.

I think being exposed to that daily is a sort of PTSD in its own right. Like how nurses go numb to peoples' suffering because they see it all day, every day, and how people who live in ghettos don't flinch at the sound of a gunshot because it happens constantly, but it still impacts them on a subconscious level, and it causes their Central Nervous Systems (studies have been conducted on this matter) to actually process pain and fear differently, forever.

And I can't just "move out", because I'm disabled and have no income and haven't been formally declared disabled.

And all I want to do is cozy up and drift into my fantasy land in my head, and I can't do that with other fucking people in the house, because my introversion and the way I live inside my own head is so extreme (I can turn it on and off, kinda) that it's almost *intimate* (anyone know what I mean when I say it like that?) and so I don't like doin' it with other people around, except my mother- since she lives here I can usually tune her out, unless her lamenting gets too loud.

Plus it's not like I can talk about it. An adult woman my age complaining about being mad at their parental figure(s)- when you live with her, rent-free, not by choice, mind you, but still, rent free- you wind up sounding like a damned immature teenage brat.

And so if you want to be taken seriously as an adult, you can't do that.

But it takes a real psychological toll on me, and I assume it would be on anyone. I want to investigate this phenomenon, but I don't have money or volunteers to do so. (Or a degree yet, sadly.)

It's de-legitimized and portrayed as petty whining, but when you're really really introverted, in my case to a mentally ill degree (in addition to my other neurodivergent shit goin' on), and someone steps on your turf when you're vulnerable and need a rest and an escape, it feels violating. Especially when it happens quite a lot.

But I don't really say anything on social media or to anyone (occasionally I'll complain to a friend over text or whatever, but I mean, not really. I don't really do that anymore.), because I *can't imagine* any of my friends -my age- doing that.

They'd look silly and wouldn't be respected. My friends are the "nerds" and the good girls. I like people who are high-achievers (providing they're able-bodied enough to do it, which most of my friends are, and most people are), because they know what they're about and they're focused, and driven, and have an intellectual air about them. Even though I'm the opposite of high-achieving: I am no-achieving. But we made friends because I didn't used to be that way so much. I've given up. But anyways...

So If I showcase my emotions full-force, I feel that I'll jeopardize what little respect I have from peers who know me well (I already have no job and am no longer in college, which I'm self-conscious about), or that I'll alienate them, because they'll think I'm a petty little whiny-ass who "ain't about shit" and doesn't respect others, etc.

Which to a degree is true, but not entirely. Plus I don't want them to know that, it's not becoming to me and I'm not proud of my temper or how socially inept I can be at times.

But it like, really hurts, man. There's no escape. I can't even escape to the trenches of my own mind unless no one's watching- it's like doing other really satisfying things. You can't really do it the way you normally do it somebody else is there. Kinda harshes your vibe, y'know?

I really shouldn't complain. I'm alive, not in very much pain right now, and I'm being financially supported, even if I'm constantly guilted about it and not a soul believes that I can't actually provide for myself.

I just want her to leave and I kinda hinted at it, in a way of, "Oh, I didn't know you were here. I was going to go to sleep. It's kind of weird trying to fall asleep when guests are over." And she more or less told me that that was rude and "to go to sleep at a decent hour, then!" which I can't do. I just naturally have a much easier time staying awake at night (and productive, or, as productive as I get, I guess) and sleeping in the daytime.

But I expected as much. She and my mother have zero compassion for any of my personal needs because they're of the mindset of, "Beggers can't be choosers." (meaning I get free rent. they don't believe or don't care that for me, there's no other alternative right now.)

And I believe that it's reflective of the community's overall opinion on those who can't provide for themselves (I mean jesus h. christ, just look at all the anti-welfare and anti-welfare-recipient arguments. People aren't even subtle about their disdain towards "charity cases").

So I keep my mouth shut to anyone outside of my family about how rather miserable I am here.

I took a half valium. I just want to not care that I'm here right now, or here while she's here, to be more specific, I guess. Or while she's here and they're trying to be quiet but I KNOW THEY'RE HERE *and* my mother's loudly moaning in pain, when she refuses to do ANYTHING to help herself. Yea yea, that's shitty of me. It goes back to, I care deep down, but it doesn't make it to the surface. Goes back to the way dealing with it in the long run effects you. And I just got major de ja vu. Anyways.

No happy pre-bedtime for me today, I guess. Shit. I planned my entire morning around trying to get sleepy/feel better enough to lay down and just "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, sweet, sweet bed" before drifting off to pleasant thoughts of times past. I used to be able to do that all day, but my depression has dulled my mood and mind quite considerably. So now it's usually just before I fall asleep. It's like a routine, and if the best part of my routine's totally disrespected even though I'm useless and therefore not entitled to have a routine, it fucks up my whole day. Well, poop. Lol, so that's that I guess.

How's everyone?