And then, there's a bearded fetus.

So Donnie had this huge breakdown a couple nights ago. Megan was "too high" -- whatever that means -- and had passed out cold. Without doing anything Donnie wanted her to do. And while Donnie cut up chicken to freeze, she sat at the kitchen table and had the most dramatic breakdown, crying and choking on her sobs and blah blah blah.

Megan was "supposed to talk to us, and was going to be So Mad that Donnie did it", and Matthew and I were both concerned, but we also knew what she was going to say. Some things just become obvious, y'know? The $1800 they needed to get into this mobile home they're 'renting to own'? Gone. They have $300 of it left. The vacation they just were on, courtesy of Donnie's Aunt, Super!Suzy? Not courtesy of her. They owe her $400. They paid her $100 today. And they won't have a week's worth of checks, because they were gone M-Fri, or maybe Saturday? I don't know. We had five good days, I thought they weren't going to be back until Sunday, but anyway. They're back, they're a week short on funds, and they only have $200, now. So no, not moving out. NOT FUCKING LEAVING. Because Matthew and I both said no, of course we're not going to put you out on the street. You can stay here until you save up the money, or get your student loan disbursements, whatever. Please stay longer and not pay us anything to live here.

Tonight Matthew came in from having a fire pit thing -- they roasted stuff over the fire and probably got high, and had a good giggle. And then he came inside and told me that things had to change or *I* was going lose Megan and probably Donnie. I said excuse me? And was treated to Matthew telling me that Donnie and Megan both told him that I have to "stop playing them against each other, and stop playing Matthew against them", or it's going to ruin our relationship(s). There were no specifics given. No details. Nothing to go on to support this. Just I'm playing them against each other and it needs to stop or that'll be it for our relationship(s).

Since I have NOTHING, literally, to go on -- though the timing between Donnie's fucking breakdown Sunday, Saturday, whenever, and Megan being out here today nattering on about how there's evidence Jeffery Epstein is alive and living in Florida, and Trump had Pope Leo assassinated, but I won't find anything in any of the prominent news sources because it's being "kept silent" (WHAT? Seriously.), and at some point I brought up the them-moving-paychecks-they-can-save-to-do-that, and I don't know what else -- I have to assume it's whatever I said that they then ran to the other and said, "oh, she said ______________!"

So I told Matthew well, that's fine. I'll say goodmorning or hello, or whatever... but anything beyond that, I'm not saying anything unless they're both in the mother-fucking room at the same time, and Matthew better be there too, so I have someone ELSE listening. And I'm playing HIM against THEM. I don't have a clue about that one.

I'm so angry that I feel like crying, and my chest is tight and hurts, and I want to throw things and give them something to really talk about, but I'm not going to. I'm going to mentally tell them they can go fuck themselves and get the fuck out of my house. I'm at the point where I don't care if I never see either of them again. Not even Megan, and that hurts so bad inside me. She's been my little girl, my daughter, the child I didn't know I wanted until she got here. And it hurts so badly that she would say that. That everything I've done for her would be paid this way. I never wanted payment, I didn't do anything to be paid back. I just loved her because. She's been a part of our lives for nearly 11 years.

I don't understand, and I'm so mad, and so sad, and nothing's ever going to be the same, because I don't know if I can do another three to five months of this. They were supposed to move out last month, and then Donnie had a meltdown over trying to adjust to a new job, AND prepare for vacation, AND move, AND get unpacked and and and. So we told them May was fine, it would save her a half month of rent, and they could focus on moving after vacation, not before, and we could feed their cats who already know us. Matthew asked them to pay him $10 for it, and they said sure, and made sure there was enough food and litter on hand for them. (Not that it matters, they spend half the day out here, eating our food, etc.) And then it wasn't "right after vacation, probably the middle of the month". And then it was "probably the end of the month".

And now we're at "probably September".

I am the biggest fucking idiot in existence.

X-posted to Livejournal and Dreamwidth. Read/comment where you prefer.

It hurts to feel this angry and this bitter, so much of the time.

Two days ago, or maybe three or four, I don't know for sure. They all run together, after a while. Anyway. I was having trouble pushing away the trunk I use as a makeshift stool (my chair is a recliner, but the recliner broke and Madisyn killed my warranty by taking a hammer to it). Sometimes when it's humid and the windows are open, it becomes harder to push the truck away from me.

So I asked Matthew if he could help me with the stool. Pull it out so I could stand up and do whatever it was I was going to do. Well, he said, "you can do it yourself. You just have to try harder." I was already in a pissy mood, and I snapped. I don't remember what I said, but it conveyed my pissy mood. Something to the effect of how could he just sit there and watch me struggle and NOT offer help. I have to pull my leg all the way up to my body in order to get enough leverage to push it away from me -- and if it's humid, it's extremely difficult.

And Donnie, in my kitchen making a mess, as always, turns toward me and Matthew and says, "He didn't answer you {however whatever}, and Matthew, you're her son, not her caretaker. You don't have to do anything for her.

My very first internal reaction to that was WTELF??!

I then told her as nicely as I could manage that I wasn't interested in her opinion, and she could keep it to herself. I told Matthew much the same. I finally was able to get up, and went into the bathroom (my "room") and stayed there for a little while, just shaking with anger.

Later, when talking with Matthew about it (without Donnie, tyvm), I asked him what, exactly, he thought I was asking for him to do, to "be my caregiver". I said, you don't wipe my ass for me; you don't do any of my hygiene care; you don't bathe me or feed me or do my meds. Occasionally, I need help getting the stool out to get up, and I do ask him to push the stool in for me, because I can't always get it pulled all the way in. He puts my laundry into the washer, and then into the dryer. I fold it, and put it away. I cook for us. I wash our dishes -- he usually dries and puts away. What, exactly, is he giving me that falls into any category other than "one human helping another one out". Donnie, I should mention, will run Megan ragged fetching this or that or the other, especially while cooking. Megan puts Donnie's shoes and socks on her. Fetches clothing. Or Donnie's purse. She gets water with ice, constantly. I mean, if we're going tit-for-tat, maybe Donnie should look at her own domestic relationship -- and keep her nose out of mine.

They're out of town right now. On vacation (though they can't afford to pay any of the bills here). They're down in Gatlinburg TN, and Super!Suzy has paid for them to be there. They're not going to have any income for the week they're gone, and they've run through a good chunk of what got set aside for moving. Matthew and I have decided that we're going to tell them they have until May 1st to move, or they'll have to start paying something. And it's nothing to do with whether or not we have the money to pay all the bills. We almost do. As long as nothing happens. But it has to do with, god, living in someone's house for 16 months, and having paid about $1000. Total. In 16 months. That's roughly $62.50/mo.

Augh. I'm sorry. That was major word!vomit, and I just came over here to vent a little bit about one thing.

I think I'm going to watch some ER, and then go to bed.

X-posted to Livejournal and Dreamwidth. Read/comment where you choose.