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I'm sitting here, pretending to work from home, with my Switch open as I wait for my pokemon to stick more eggs in that damn basket. It's cute, they're chasing a ball all around the picnic area. I don't care what people say about this game, I really enjoy this pokemon generation.
But that's not really what's on my mind. It's a nice distraction though.
Quick disclaimer and necessary trigger warning: Because I'm posting publicly, some things are slightly altered to protect my anonymity. Names, locations, ages and in some cases genders. Trigger for this post is SA and underage abuse.
So I'll probably get into detail about the horrorshow that was my childhood, but right now the important part is that my father (who was, alarmingly, the 'better' of the two parents) sexually abused us kids. I am lucky to have been able to block it from my memory, but both of my brothers aren't so lucky. My elder brother vanished off the face of the earth, leaving a slew of ex-wives in his wake. My younger one took a lot of convincing to cut off all contact, move a few states away and get into therapy. I helped him get there.
I myself was kicked out at like, 16 I think and was no-contact up until this summer. I was happy that way.
2022 fucking sucked. I was burnt out from my job and had no escape, went back to school to try and wrestle a new job. I was married and my spouse had decided that they weren't really interested in being married anymore. It didn't matter how much therapy or counselling we did, I just flat couldn't get them to care. So when I asked for a divorce, they just shrugged and said sure. Then got confused when I didn't want to share a room, vehicle or finances with them anymore. They used up almost all of my money, trashed my home with their negligence and just made my life hell without even being intentionally malicious.
I was in a really bad place. And then in June, I got a call from a hospital saying that my father had fallen and needed emergency surgery, but as my mother had died a few years earlier, there was no next of kin aside from me. They needed to know if he had a will.
So I left work, frazzled, broke into his house and hunted for a will. During that time, he decided he didn't want the emergency surgery and came home. To say we were surprised to see each other was an under statement. Because he checked out against medical advice, the cops showed up, as well as social workers, etc etc and basically I got my arm twisted into staying with him. This ended up working in my favor, because I could force my ex to move out of my house, sell said house and save a lot in bills by living at home.
My brother is fucking furious about it. I get it, I understand. He thinks I'm getting used, and I can see that too. But our father is weak, he can't walk, he can't remember shit, he's an alcoholic and he knows he's on borrowed time. Borrowed time that gets shorter if I'm not here to care for him.
I have no love for him. But I was also raised being told that I should have died and that I was unwanted, so maybe there's a part of me that still wants badly to have some sort of 'family'. Ha. I'm so fucking stupid.
So things were going as well as can be expected. I don't expect my father to live super long. Something is going to happen. He's going to fall, he's going to do something and end up dead. Fine. Whatever. We all know this. The real reason I'm caring for him is because my brother and I got written out of his will, which would make all of it go to my father's greedy as fuck siblings. I managed to get that fixed, now it's going to both me and my brother.
Over Thanksgiving, I left our father alone to go a few states over and see my brother and his wife. I brought them some of his favorite chocolate. I didn't talk about our father. I'm not stupid, I keep that shit away from him.
Three weeks later, I get a message saying "My dog got into your chocolate so thanks a fucking lot, now she's going to die and it's your fault. Enjoy sucking dad's dick for a million dollars. No wonder nobody loves you. Go fuck yourself and die." Out of nowhere. We'd been talking about Transformers the night before. When I asked him wtf was going on, his only response was "Fuck yourself and die".
He had left the chocolate on the table. His dog had gotten into it and eaten about a pound. They took her to the vet and she's fine. But that was a week ago and I don't have any apology. I get all updates from his wife, who said that he's freaking the fuck out and blaming everyone but himself. Even though HE is the one who left it out and didn't put it away.
This morning I got a wall of text from him saying that this was all my fault for taking care of our father and that I was a horrible person and it's still my fault even though he knows it's not, it's my fault his dog is sick. He cussed me out when I offered to pay for his vet bills (I have money left over from selling my house) and said some more ugly stuff. I was as neutral as I could be. I apologized for not being more aware of what this situation is doing to him, told him I was happy he was able to express his emotions and said I'd be more careful with what I choose to tell him to make sure that I don't accidentally make things harder for his mental health.
But now I'm pissed at myself. Because I'm essentially apologizing to him for his own inability to handle his emotions. No one asks how I'm handling all this. No one cares how I feel about having to be the caretaker to my abuser. No one asks about what this is doing to my mental health. If it wasn't for my dog, I would have done something stupid by now. He went out of his way to try to hurt me and I'm supposed to just take it.
I feel like I don't have anyone on my side. Though T, my SO does a great job at protecting me. But he's so far away. And that's its own massive mountain of trauma and trust issues that don't belong to him. I don't know what to do aside from block my brother and just keep dealing with my own bullshit life. I feel so alone.
For shits and giggles, here's the count of what I ended up with after making this post:
Pokemon bred: Sprigatito
Eggs: 69 (nice)
Hatched: 30
Normal babehs: 30
Shinies: 0 :/
But that's not really what's on my mind. It's a nice distraction though.
Quick disclaimer and necessary trigger warning: Because I'm posting publicly, some things are slightly altered to protect my anonymity. Names, locations, ages and in some cases genders. Trigger for this post is SA and underage abuse.
So I'll probably get into detail about the horrorshow that was my childhood, but right now the important part is that my father (who was, alarmingly, the 'better' of the two parents) sexually abused us kids. I am lucky to have been able to block it from my memory, but both of my brothers aren't so lucky. My elder brother vanished off the face of the earth, leaving a slew of ex-wives in his wake. My younger one took a lot of convincing to cut off all contact, move a few states away and get into therapy. I helped him get there.
I myself was kicked out at like, 16 I think and was no-contact up until this summer. I was happy that way.
2022 fucking sucked. I was burnt out from my job and had no escape, went back to school to try and wrestle a new job. I was married and my spouse had decided that they weren't really interested in being married anymore. It didn't matter how much therapy or counselling we did, I just flat couldn't get them to care. So when I asked for a divorce, they just shrugged and said sure. Then got confused when I didn't want to share a room, vehicle or finances with them anymore. They used up almost all of my money, trashed my home with their negligence and just made my life hell without even being intentionally malicious.
I was in a really bad place. And then in June, I got a call from a hospital saying that my father had fallen and needed emergency surgery, but as my mother had died a few years earlier, there was no next of kin aside from me. They needed to know if he had a will.
So I left work, frazzled, broke into his house and hunted for a will. During that time, he decided he didn't want the emergency surgery and came home. To say we were surprised to see each other was an under statement. Because he checked out against medical advice, the cops showed up, as well as social workers, etc etc and basically I got my arm twisted into staying with him. This ended up working in my favor, because I could force my ex to move out of my house, sell said house and save a lot in bills by living at home.
My brother is fucking furious about it. I get it, I understand. He thinks I'm getting used, and I can see that too. But our father is weak, he can't walk, he can't remember shit, he's an alcoholic and he knows he's on borrowed time. Borrowed time that gets shorter if I'm not here to care for him.
I have no love for him. But I was also raised being told that I should have died and that I was unwanted, so maybe there's a part of me that still wants badly to have some sort of 'family'. Ha. I'm so fucking stupid.
So things were going as well as can be expected. I don't expect my father to live super long. Something is going to happen. He's going to fall, he's going to do something and end up dead. Fine. Whatever. We all know this. The real reason I'm caring for him is because my brother and I got written out of his will, which would make all of it go to my father's greedy as fuck siblings. I managed to get that fixed, now it's going to both me and my brother.
Over Thanksgiving, I left our father alone to go a few states over and see my brother and his wife. I brought them some of his favorite chocolate. I didn't talk about our father. I'm not stupid, I keep that shit away from him.
Three weeks later, I get a message saying "My dog got into your chocolate so thanks a fucking lot, now she's going to die and it's your fault. Enjoy sucking dad's dick for a million dollars. No wonder nobody loves you. Go fuck yourself and die." Out of nowhere. We'd been talking about Transformers the night before. When I asked him wtf was going on, his only response was "Fuck yourself and die".
He had left the chocolate on the table. His dog had gotten into it and eaten about a pound. They took her to the vet and she's fine. But that was a week ago and I don't have any apology. I get all updates from his wife, who said that he's freaking the fuck out and blaming everyone but himself. Even though HE is the one who left it out and didn't put it away.
This morning I got a wall of text from him saying that this was all my fault for taking care of our father and that I was a horrible person and it's still my fault even though he knows it's not, it's my fault his dog is sick. He cussed me out when I offered to pay for his vet bills (I have money left over from selling my house) and said some more ugly stuff. I was as neutral as I could be. I apologized for not being more aware of what this situation is doing to him, told him I was happy he was able to express his emotions and said I'd be more careful with what I choose to tell him to make sure that I don't accidentally make things harder for his mental health.
But now I'm pissed at myself. Because I'm essentially apologizing to him for his own inability to handle his emotions. No one asks how I'm handling all this. No one cares how I feel about having to be the caretaker to my abuser. No one asks about what this is doing to my mental health. If it wasn't for my dog, I would have done something stupid by now. He went out of his way to try to hurt me and I'm supposed to just take it.
I feel like I don't have anyone on my side. Though T, my SO does a great job at protecting me. But he's so far away. And that's its own massive mountain of trauma and trust issues that don't belong to him. I don't know what to do aside from block my brother and just keep dealing with my own bullshit life. I feel so alone.
For shits and giggles, here's the count of what I ended up with after making this post:
Pokemon bred: Sprigatito
Eggs: 69 (nice)
Hatched: 30
Normal babehs: 30
Shinies: 0 :/
