#so personal

i sprinted to my bathroom, grabbed my precious jojoba oil, sat on the tub's lip, and drenched my feet in it.

i’m talking, i think i used half the brand-spankin new bottle.

ALOT.

i’m getting my angles or whatever and, guess what, i slip in the oil.

but, not just slip, no, no.

i do the fucking splits (i’m not flexible AT ALL.)

i'm slipping in the oil, moving all over the tub, and i fall backwards over the side of the tub, right between the toilet and lip of the tub.

by the way, the wood part of the plunger cornholes me, and the metal toilet paper holder falls on me, and i’m trapped.

like legitimately stuck.

i’m folded like a pretzel, chest to knees (in a horrible way). i can't scream because my parents would come in to see a big pile of fresh oil in the tub, all over my feet, and my phone open on fucking feet-finders.

i was considering just letting myself suffocate, and just as i accepted death, guess what?

BAM! since my face was right next to the toilet and it seems my brother took a fat shit and didn't flush properly, i can now smell it wafting and settling in my nose.

oh i’m gagging, trying to crawl away, choking and coughing. after a STRUGGLE, i manage to shimmy out of the crevice (god willing) and lay sprawled on the floor for like twenty minutes.

ass hurting.

feet slick.

shit crumbs floating to my nose.

dignity dead and gone.

closer by the chainsmokers playing next to me.

yeah.

I was abandoned when I was only hours old.

I was left outside of a hospital ER during a 44 degree night in October. Luckily, I was found and taken care of. I was in foster care for a couple months and then I was adopted by Bruce and Karen.

Bruce had (and still has) undiagnosed mental health issues that molded my entire childhood. He was angry all the time. He’d yell at the drop of a hat. We were scared of him. I couldn’t go to him with accidents or issues, cuz he would yell.

My brother (also adopted) started molesting me when I was 11 and that went on until I was around 16. I pushed it so far back in my mind that whenever it would randomly pop up, it would ruin me for days.

I met my birth mom when I was 28. I have sisters.

My birth mom is one of the worst people I’ve ever met in my entire life. She’s mean. And a liar. And has a tendency to choose her partners over her children.

She told me she didn’t know she was pregnant. That she just went into labor one day and boom. Of course I found out later, that was a lie. No one else even knew I existed. Not even my birth father.

When we met, she was married to Bobby. Bobby died. And I found out from my sister….that he was a fucking disgusting piece of shit.

My mom starts dating Henry. Who we eventually find out is in the Megan’s Law list for raping his ex girlfriend’s daughter from ages 12-16.

My youngest sister, got pregnant with my niece and gave her an ultimatum. Your granddaughter or Henry.

She chose Henry.

Even my grandmother abandoned me. She told my sister I’m a bad person because I curse. And I should feel Lucky because my mom could have thrown my in a dumpster.

Coincidentally, I’ve met and have a great relationship with my birth father, Cameron.

I have a rocky relationship with Bruce. He still refuses to accept any accountability for how he’s been and continues to say mean shit to me

I don’t talk to my birth mother, grandmother, or uncle.

I don’t speak to my adopted brother and things are weird between me and Karen because of how she acted when I told her about my brother.

I have a lovely relationships with my sisters and my niece

But holy shit man.

Family is literally a 5 letter word.

I’ve made my own.

I’m just tired.