A Moment To Breath

So after that nice little rage fit by my mother. She decided to call my father to come to the house and try to “talk” to me.

Let me fill you in a little about my father. He had to come by because he doesn’t live there anymore. He is an alcoholic and has been for years, he had a gambling problem and put our family into the depths of hell. An incredible amount of debt. He is a smoker, he has been my entire life. He had an affair. I do not like him what so ever.

So this man barged into my room and tried talking to me. I hate him, why the fuck would I want to talk to you. So I didn’t. He got mad (because he has anger issue problems) and resorted to throwing my shit around (my belongings in my room) and putting his hands on me forcefully to get me out of my house. He also tried holding me down to get my phone out of my hands. He lost that battle. I ran, he obviously came after me. I tried keeping the door closed with force, but he barged his way in there too. To scream and yell at me some more. Telling me I am a piece of shit, blah blah blah. I stopped listening a while ago.

I work Friday nights, so that is where I am now. It is quiet enough that I can do my own thing in peace. I am looking into places to live. I reached out via social media to see if anyone had a place for me. Naturally, no one cares and I got no responses. I am looking at homeless shelters and how they work. Also looking at mental health hospitals and what their programs are like. I know they don’t have emergency rooms. So I think I would have to go to the emergency ward of a regular hospital in order to even get a chance of getting into the mental health hospital.

The search continues.

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