So first I'll give an update.
Last Monday I was diagnosed with a 5mm kidney stone in my right kidney. I spent 7h in the ER waiting for that diagnosis. The cause of the pain was what the doctor called "occlusion". Okay fine. He gave me 2 days' worth of vicodin and 5 days worth of this stuff called FLOmax, which they use to help with urine output (so I wouldn't retain and so I would (and didn't) pass the kidney stone).
So, day 7 of kidney stone.
Plus, the Thursday before that, I was diagnosed with asthma. Apparently I don't need a long-term inhaler, only an emergency one. Fine. So I have that.
Now, to this morning.
Add in my allergies this morning, plus utter exhaustion because my body thinks it needs to use all of its energy worrying about this damn stone, and you have one exhausted, pain-filled, and very short-tempered Jess.
But what does Jess do? She takes a deep breath, remembers that she loves her family, takes a few puffs of the newly prescribed inhaler, and gets up and deals with her mother (and her complaining) before going to work.
I get to work, clock in, and the hell starts. I'm in pain, have to deal with a boss that just returned from being gone a week, and having to deal with a pile of things that she thought of as the day went by for me to do. I finish all of them, take a 30 minute break (nap) instead of lunch, and then get back to work.
I get off of work, go home, and get to listen to my mother gasp, ooh, and ah as she watches the Bachelorette past 2 episodes.
Then, she has to go and get Jamie from her friend's house. So, I decide I'm going to catch up on a tv episode I've DVR'd (So I can delete it for more space), and I only have 20 minutes left when they get back. Jamie walks in, complains that I'm in her spot, and then sits her blankets, pillows, and anything else she can find on the tray table right in front of me, blocking my view from the television.
So, I ask her politely not once, but TWICE to please move her stuff just so I can finish watching the television episode. She doesn't. So, I knock it off of the tray table and press play (thank God for pause). So, she gets up, picks it up, and puts it right back. Calls me names, and then stomps off to tell mom (because you know, we're not adults or anything), and runs her mouth. Mom yells for me to stop, I yell that I'm not doing anything wrong, and Jamie stomps off to the bathroom to wipe away her crocodile tears.
She comes back into the room and starts in on her shit. When I start to counteract her and contradict what she's saying with reality (because, you know, a chair really doesn't belong to anyone. Hell, it's older than her, and she was gone) and what my goal had been, that she'd been the one to blow shit out of proportion, she starts yelling, which triggers the mom monster (who was laying down in bed), and I get yelled at again.
So, by this point, I'm pissed off, in pain, trying to watch the last 20 minutes of a television show, have kittens climbing all over me, and my two sisters also yelling with my mom. I'm beyond done.
My mom threatens to "put [her] foot down [my] throat," and I tell her that she should try, because I would really love for that to happen. She comes out, gets in my face, and so help me God if I didn't have kittens on me, I'm sure I would have been in jail by now. I wanted to slap the shit out of her. Like...seriously.
It wasn't even her conversation.
So, I just looked at her and reminded her politely that both of her daughters are adults and should be able to have their own arguments and get through them by themselves, without parental involvement, well, of course that doesn't work. Mom stomps off to lay down, tells me to shut up. I look at Jamie, tell her that she can't ask me for anything, and if she says a word to me, to expect no reply, and I finish my television episode. I pay for the damn television, internet, and phone, and can't even watch a show in peace.
Not to mention that I've paid for the insurance on her NON RUNNING vehicle since May.
That's $400 I didn't have.
And does she care? Nope.
Well guess what? She's going to be getting a rude awakening. I'm going to be telling her she owes it to me AS SOON as she gets her refund. Then I'm going to buy myself something nice. (A.K.A. I'm saving for testing next semester.)
And I'm hoping to be moved out by August 1, 2014. In my own place. With my own money.
Away from this hellhole.
My head is killing me, I'm so pissed off that I feel on the dangerous end of dark, and I really just want to curl up in a ball and literally die. Like, yeah.
Because, according to them, I have no respect. According to them, I'm a bad sister and daughter. But do they see what I do for them on a daily basis? Do they realize how much worry I have for them? No. Will they? No.
It's infuriating.
