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The Life Of "Mars".
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2019-01-03 11:33:18 (UTC)

New Year's (2) (2018)

Friday January 4th

Me and Ian woke up roughly around the same time the next morning, pretty much as soon as we woke up Kayden was outside out tent talking with us. I can't really remember what he said, oh and Joe's missus came along and told us breakfast was ready. Bacon, eggs and sausages.

If I remember right I think Ian was saying something about him being kind of worried that him and Touya weren't gonna talk because she might of been acting that way because she was drunk. But no, she came over to us and said good morning when we were having breakfast. Appreantly they all stayed up till about 3am after I left and saw a possum that tried to steal someone's shoe. Scary stuff.

The rest of the morning was pretty uneventful, Ian walked off to go check some place out and me and Kayden just chilled on the couch. Touya went off and sat down in one of the cars.

Kayden and Touya ended up leaving before us, but before Kayden went we got each other's details and he sent me a friend request on Facebook.

Me and Ian packed up the tent pretty fast and we were pretty much waiting on Al by the end of it. I made sure to thank Joe again for having us.

I didn't feel nearly as sick as I did the first time we drove back, I'm not sure if it's because I was maybe more used to it now or if it was because I was now listening to my music which might of subconsciously been distracting me, either way I felt better.

We stopped off at a place called Rai Valley and grabbed some fried chicken and chips.

We then dropped off some stuff at Al's and talked to Ian's nan for a bit, basically told her the stories of what happened. She's really kind by the way.

We then walked back home. Going back home was, not so great. I already had a bad feeling that our stuff might of been moved around by my mom, and I even joked about it. And I was right, of course.

First, my room had that smell that happens when my mom tries to "clean" but ends up making things dirtier.

Secondly, there were no sheets on my bed. No blankets, no pillows. Nothing.

My TV was now dirty with water marks and bits of fluff from a towel.

My books, cases, clothes, games and figurines were all moved around in places completely different to how I left them. Luckly the books weren't wet. The cases were lightly stuck together and wet.

My floor was kind of damp and for some reason lotion had been spilled on a part of the room. As well as a cigarette left on my desk. (I don't smoke, by the way.) My painting also now has light water damage at the bottom of it because I'm guessing she wet my walls while I was gone.

Oh yeah, all of my cords had been unplugged too, for some reason.

So I was pretty fucking annoyed. Actually I was beyond annoyed. Because I had just come back from a long ass drive and the first thing I come back to is me having to clean up after my fucking mom. So, getting angrier the more I found out my stuff had been messed with I was kind of yelling to myself and to my mom. Shit like,

"Oh my fucking god, how god damn hard is it for you to not touch my shit when I ask you not to?"

"You're not making things better you fucking dumb ass. I get you're fucking mental and all but there is no excuse for being this fucking stupid."

Shit like that. Even Ian was annoyed because similar shit happened with him, the only exception was that he actually had blankets and pillows on his bed. He didn't really complain but I did hear a few, "Oh my god. Cmon why is that moved? Where the hell is my stuff gone?" My mom heard it.

I kind of snapped and went to go vent at my mom. I basically said, "Don't ever fucking touch my fucking shit again you're not helping all you've done is make things worse tell me why I gotta come back and clean after you."

She started crying, and at that moment I honestly didn't care. I even told her to shut up and to stop fucking crying because I didn't care. Despicable really.

She said that while I was on holiday she was busy cleaning our rooms and that's how we treat her when we first come back. I rebuttled by saying, "Cleaning? What the fuck are you talking about. My room is literally messier then when I left. Don't give me that fucking shit."

She tried to say something else, and honestly with how pissed I was I can't remember what she said. Also because I cut her off saying, "Shut the fuck up all you did was mess up my shit." She then said "do you think I meant to?"

I said something like, "Well you fuckin' did mess it up. How would you like it if I messed with your stuff?" I didn't, obviously. But I was kind of tempted.

I realized I was getting way too pissed and tried to calm down, I went silent for a few seconds and tried to breath. I said, "Listen.." I don't know what I was going to follow it up with. Probably something like, "don't ever touch my stuff again." But, calmer.

She instantly started yelling at me telling me to go away and to fuck off to my room. Being told to fuck off to my room really pissed me off for some reason. I tried to keep calm and tried to say "stop yelling, listen" but she kept yelling and said she hated me and shit like "fuck off". She also said me and Ian can fuck off and go live somewhere else.

Being yelled at continuously when I was trying my hardest to be calm didn't help, and I snapped again saying "Oh fucking trust me I'd fucking love to. Seriously shut the fuck up I'm so fucking tired of you. You're fucking annoying. Don't go near my fucking room aye." And then I walked off. I actually managed to close the door without slamming it. I stood in the hallway for a good ten seconds trying to compose myself and not do anything stupid.

I opened Ian's door and asked him if he heard all that. He did, all of it in fact. I don't really care though. I told him not to worry about being kicked out and all that.

I heard her crying and yelling from my room for awhile. I ended up making my own bed and layed there for about half an hour.

At first I was still really pissed off, and I still think she was mostly in the wrong for touching my stuff and messing with my room when I've asked her not to. (Same with Ian's room.) But, I handled it poorly. I let my anger get the better of me.

So while a good while of me laying there was me being angry, it also turned into a lot of self loathing and deprecation. Such thoughts as,

"Fuckin' trash making your mother cry when she was at least trying to help."

"Trash. Scum. Irredemable trash unworthy of love or forgiveness. You're horrible and you're feeling sorry for yourself. Fucking pathetic. Kill yourself you fucking fag."

Plauged my mind. That lasted for awhile. I didn't cry or anything and my breath wasn't ragged. But I remember looking at my hand and seeing it shake uncontrollably for some reason, softly. I ended up slapping myself across the face and told myself to get a fucking grip. The rest of the time was me just laying there, not really thinking. Just being yknow.

I got on later with James Ian and William and told them about camp and what happened when me and Ian got home.

I tried to talk to my mom again later but she pretty much refused to talk to me for quite awhile. She did, eventually in the end, but yeah

She was acting nice to me this morning, and I guess it's nice but I still keep having those self loathing thoughts.

The one plus side to today really was finding some new music called Myth & Roid. As well as my Nendoroid figureine of Darkness arriving a week early.

For the most part, 2019 has started off good. I don't really have any new years resolutions besides trying not to be such a piece of shit. Oh, and moving out. Maintaining the habit of reading and stuff like that. Matter fact, I'm going to go read Re Zero now since I haven't since I got back.