Things Go Wrong
So why do they always have to go REALLY wrong?
I've said before to many people that I have a good life, and I do. I have a place to live, I have food, I have people that love me and even my own dog. I'm going to school, I'm not completely poor, and I have friends. Miz makes me happy, I can afford books that also make me happy, and I have a car.
I know I have a lot more than other people do, so I have no reason to complain. So normally, I don't complain.
I live with Ian's parents in their house, for free. I moved cross country and they understood the leap that I was making to A) Finish school at a decent University so I could then get a decent job and B) to be with their son.
Things are not perfect here. Not by a long shot. Here I am, an outsider moving into the middle of a families home, exposed now to the family dynamics that a normal visitor or even friend is not subjected too. But I can't complain! I'm living here for free! They don't even ask me to pay for anything and are providing everything for me.
I can't complainExcept fuck it, because I am going to complain. I have been holding in so much anger over this situation that today, I just exploded in a mass of tears and chest wrenching sobs. It was like the movies; I was seething one moment, and then next I was sinking to the floor of the garage in full blown sobs.
I have lived on my own. I had an apartment with my best friend and it was
awesome. We got along so well that it was almost like living with myself. We never argued over cleanliness or food or possessive issues or anything. We were best friends when we started living together and we were sisters when we both had to move out. Perfect situation.
But she went to Grad school and I did not, so while she headed off to New York City, I moved back into my childhood home at my parents house. Anyone who has done this knows the stifling feeling of lost freedom. Things that didn't matter before, I noticed now. My dad always unplugged my toothbrush, and it was dead by the time I went to use it. My brother ALWAYS ate practically all the lunch meat in just one sandwich, leaving none for anyone else...and I always found this when I was most hungry. Stupid little things that didn't really matter...but yet did, because they were annoying.
But then there were the bigger things. My dad didn't like showers that were longer than five minutes. When you have as much hair as I, you know that it's impossible to shampoo, condition and wash yourself in five minutes. My mom was very easy going, and there was never really any problem living with her, except she wanted to talk all the time and would always walk into my room without asking.
So when I went to go live with someone
elses parents, I figured hey, I've done this before, no sweat!
Oh, how wrong I was.
Being in a long distance relationship was hard. Very hard, considering the time difference that was between us. I knew that I needed to do something, like move, when I found myself spending most of my day sitting on my bed on Skype. That isn't living, no matter how you spin it. How long would it have been till we ran out of things to talk about, if all we did was sit there.
So. I moved. It was a hard decision that a lot of people didn't understand. I probably wouldn't have done it if I didn't get the benefit of finishing college at a MUCH better school than the one I was at.
While we were apart, I was well aware of how much Ian had to do on a daily basis. He was constantly having to leave his computer to go do something for someone, fix something, get something, whatever. He moved back home to his parents because his dad had a gastric bypass and other health complications that left him practically helpless. Since Ian's mother works 12 hour days, she couldn't help her husband. So they called Ian back home, and he came.
But now things are better healthwise with his father. He isn't bed ridden, he can move around and function...but still, he has Ian do everything for him. Everything. Carry his dinner to him while he sits on the couch. Gets him things while he sits on the couch. Carries stuff upstairs for him while he sits on the couch.The way these people wait hand and foot on this man make me sick to my stomach, and I've told him so. Feeling as though I can't bad mouth the man that is letting me live in his house for free, however, I do let it go.
Ian's brother also lives at home. And he doesn't do anything. While Ian is left to clean the whole house, his brother stays in his room glued to his tv or xbox. I even do cleaning that he won't do, so that Ian isn't left doing it all himself (As it should be, since I live her too.)
Not only that, but when Ian doesnt do any of these millions of chores, he gets bitched at. When Ians brother does one chore, he gets thanked multiple times like he just saved the entire families life. And I swear to you, I would be saying this even if I wasn't dating Ian. He is treated like a god damn slave.
So why do I care? I care because I see someone I love treated like shit, and he has no option but to take it. If he stands up for himself, there is a blow out like no other. I konw hes a big boy and can take care of himself, and if it really bothered him that badly, we can leave etc etc...I get it. I know the options, but not all the options are very viable at this moment in time.
On top of everything else, I'm stuck in the family politics. They're trying to save money, decrease the spending. So they spend $500 to get some bushes cut down that...didn't need to be cut down. Ian and I go to a movie, and we get hell for it. They buy new frivilous things for a Suburban that gets 9 miles to the gallon and costs upwards of $200 to fill up, and Ian wants to get new things for his semester...He gets ripped into.
If we go out and decide to stay out for a little while to get out of the house and have fun together, we get angry calls asking where the fuck we are and why we're fucking around when there is stuff that can be done. I've never felt like a prisoner before. It's like we aren't allowed to do anything unless we have permission first. I find myself asking Ian things like "Are we going to get in trouble for this?" before we go and do anything
Basically what I am trying to say is what I see here is four very opinionated, confrontational people that cannot for the life of them see what is wrong with themselves, can't see that they are doing the exact things that they are pointing at other people for. Ian included, he is not innocent in this.
I can't fully explain the situation, i can't even fully explain my anger anymore. Right now I just feel numb. I've done my crying, but I know once the numbness goes away I'm going to be pissed again.
I hope they don't ever read this, either.
I know I need to stop taking these things personally, because I'm not the one getting yelled at, I'm not the one doing the stupid chores for lazy people. I'm barely effected at all, because a lot of the time I try and help and they say "No no, we can do it" just because they still want to make sure that I am happy. So why the fuck am I complaining?!
I guess I'm taking on the pain and hurt that I feel like Ian should be feeling. Whether he is feeling it or not, I don't really know. I see him get mad and frustrated, but that's the end of it. It's like he's accepted his lot in life and is going to deal with it for as long as he has too.
I guess that makes him stronger than me, or maybe I just haven't accepted his lot in life when it comes to this house.
It doesn't matter either way, I just can't wait to have a life of my own.