||August 24th, 2017 Thursday|| I keep getting side-tracked from finishing other entries I have drafts for in here. There's a lot I'm going to post in this entry. It's mostly about my mom. -So, I started doing my own clothes after my mom ruined one of my favorite shirts again and I was fed up with her bullshit. She somehow managed to get the shirt to not only be roughed up, have a few holes it in, burnt (how), and get some color bleeding from another shirt on it. (All these were common ways many of our clothes--except hers--ended up getting ruined when she washed them.) I started thinking back on that and remembered some other bullshit nonsense from her. -I'm pretty sure I've probably mentioned the hair issues before and the kindergarten photos and the clothes that would be several sizes too small for me and shoes that wouldn't be replaced until they literally fell apart, but she also used to burn a lot of my nicer clothes when she ironed them. She frequently burned everyone's clothes (except hers), and since she couldn't do anything in advanced to save her life, she would wait until the absolute last minute to iron anything. Which meant if she burnt something, there was nothing not wrinkley to wear for whatever occasion in its place. So we had to wear the clothes with burns in them. This wasn't so bad for me once I was allowed to iron on my own, but when I was stuck with her being the only one who ironed clothes, ugh. Burns. You'd think since we almost never got new clothes, and getting nicer clothes was a very rare occasion, that she'd be a little more careful with our clothes. But she clearly didn't care about ruining my dad's $60 dress shirtseither, and he'd go to work with them like that too. Somehow, though, her clothes, like with the laundry fuck-ups, always came out okay. Like she was either so not giving a fuck about our stuff she was not at all paying attention, or she was doing it on purpose. I really can't guess which it was. Maybe a little of both? -My mom was always neglectful in regards to feeding us, but she was also neglectful of food in general. Our fridge would always have tons of expired, molding food at any given time. Once, when my mom was on one of her brief "I'm going to work for like 3 months to a year then quit because work hard" phases and refused to do any household chores, my dad decided to thoroughly clean all of the kitchen. He found something in the fridge that been expired for five years. Now, mind you, if we actually ate food when it was good, she'd often bitch at us for making her have to go to the grocery store and buy more food to replace the old food, but when we avoided using the food as much to keep her appeased about it, it all would just expire. And she'd leave it. She'd know it was expired and pretend it wasn't, hoping someone else would remove it so she could pretend she still "thought" we had milk, etc, so she wouldn't have to buy more. She'd also do careless things like if my dad had cereal for breakfast before work, neither one of them would put the milk back up. Me or my brother would end up putting it back in the fridge when we got home from school later. And it'd clearly have been from that morning, because it'd be in the exact same location on the table. And again, while my mom had brief jobs here and there she would quickly quit, she was predominantly a housewife. She was home most of the time, but still left the food out. She wouldn't close the lids on anything either. Everything was always half opened, then stacked on top of each other so everything spilling over into everything else. Same with stuff she covered with tin foil or plastic wrap. She wouldn't fully cover it, so there was actually no point in covering it at all, and then she would quickly stack something on top of it so it would end up falling into whatever bowl of leftovers and possibly spill into said leftovers because nothing was ever closed properly. And then she'd still expect us to eat it if there wasn't large amounts of mold on it. She'd hoard a ton of expired medicine too, and then give it to us as kids because she wasn't going to buy more of a bottle of something until it was empty. It didn't matter to her if she found said bottle in an old box and was expired several years ago. It wasn't empty yet! She and my dad would often give these human medicines to pets as well, just so they didn't have to pay a vet. -This happened in kindergarten. I'd forgotten about it for a while, but I ended up thinking about Brandon Roger's "Mom" character and this popped back, along with a few other things I forgot about. One day, my mom woke up a couple hours later to take me to school. (I think you can guess which video brought this memory back.) Yeah. And since it was a private school I was in at that point, she had to take me or get me a ride. I couldn't just take the bus or walk. She was pissed, bitched at me about it (somehow it's my fault she woke up late?), and when we got there, apparently the kindergarten class was going on a field trip and had already long left. I had no idea about the field trip, somehow? (how often did my mom just not bother taking me to school for that to happen?) My mom asked where they were at and drove me to the skating rink the trip was at. She then went up to the skating rink and demanded they let her drop me off at the front and have the teachers watch me. The skating rink people said since she didn't come in with the group, she would have to pay and she couldn't just leave me alone under some other adult's supervision, even if it was my teacher because we didn't come in together. My mom demanded them to let me in so she could leave already. They refused unless she paid for her and me. Not that it mattered, because she didn't know there was a field trip either. Meaning, she did not pay for this trip. (Field trips were not included in tuition. Basically if you didn't pay for it, you were just supposed to chill at home that day.) But she expected to drop me off there because my classmates were there and she didn't want to watch me the rest of the day. I'm sure the teacher could have confirmed I was indeed one of her students, but yeah...I didn't pay up so it wouldn't have mattered. If she wanted me to get a free ride, she would've had to arrange something in advanced with the school. What's really odd about that is my mom would wake up early with my dad to get his stuff ready for work...so WTF how did she end up oversleeping when I'd need to leave not all that long after my dad would be leaving? Why go back to sleep at all? Just take a nap after you got back from dropping off the kid! This was not the first time she was ridiculously late in the morning. She often got me to school in kindergarten very late. I recall times when I'd come in and the first lesson started like thirty minutes ago. This didn't happen so much in later years, then I'd either be way too early when she dropped me off (sometimes having to wait before I could be allowed in, WTF). She continuously kept picking me up late in K-3rd grade, and somewhat frequently during 4th grade as well even though there was a bus so she didn't need to do that anyway. The most absurd time being that one where she didn't pick me up until the few remaining staff at night were asking me if anyone was coming because they needed to lock the building. My dad really didn't want me to ride a bus initially because buses=black people=bad...or something. Some kind of weird racist logic. Eventually, I was allowed to ride the bus from 5th grade and onward, which I think was actually caused by the other housewives and their husbands that my parents were trying to be buddy-buddy with telling them it was weird for me to be driven to school when there's a perfectly good, free bus I could ride. Either way, I was definitely happy to be on the bus over being stuck with my mom. -My mom would always flip out if a teacher confused me for my brother on open house day. Never mind that my own relatives do this too, and that our own friends have confused the two of us over the phone, or that the names she required us to go by in school were variants of the same name. She was flipping out at a person who had literally never met us before that very moment. What made is even dumber is she wouldn't let us speak to the teacher first. She would force her way ahead of us and stand between us and be all "HELLO I AM (NAME'S) MOM. (NAME) IS IN YOUR CLASS." The teacher would just guess which of us she was referring to since my mom wouldn't point to either kid and she was in front of both of us. If the teacher guessed wrong, she'd get super offended. What the fuck. -Most of the time, she never let us talk for ourselves at all. Ordering food? Nope, she has to say it. Buying something with birthday money? She has to do it. (Even when we were teenagers.) Open house, nope, she has to talk to the teachers exclusively. (Again, even as teenagers.) Unless she was angry at us, then we "had" to do it by ourselves. So, she was enforcing "I do everything for you" as when things are "good" and "doing things on your own" as when things are "bad". That's pretty fucked up in terms of fostering independence. It's also bizarre since if we were in a store, she'd usually do her damnest to get away from us, but once we went to talk to an actual person, she needed to completely hover and do everything for us suddenly. She would try to check out all my library books at the local library for me. When I'd push her away as a teenager with things like this, she would still hover and distract whoever was helping me by completely dominating the conversation and making it entirely about her. They may still be talking about me, but my mom was using this half to silence me and half to pull the usual Martyr Mother of the Year nonsense. (It's extra funny when I think about how she often wouldn't let me check out books at all since that usually ended up being a scam to get cigarette money out of me.) I never got to talk to anyone for long. It felt infantilizing and like I was invisible. I hated it. If I do anything family related, she will STILL try to do shit like this, like I'm not a fucking adult and I can't speak for myself. My brother now freaks out if he has to talk to anyone he doesn't know, and both my parents use this to "punish" him for being dependent on them while still trying to keep him as dependant as possible. She does this at things that are purely extended family events too. Like a relative talks to us, and she starts talking OVER us and FOR us to answer their questions--which are usually about things she couldn't know what our answers would be either. Because she wants the relatives to think our answers would be whatever she wants us to think and feel. My brother is so anxious over talking to people he now will avoid seeing other relatives because he can't talk to anyone who's not his parents or me. And even with me, he's starting to struggle on how to talk at all. It's...really creepy. Like he's sinking in and there's only just my parents there in his little world. These days, when she tries this, I always butt back into the conversation and correct whatever bullshit lies she tells people. -My mother's version of me in her head and reality are night and day. On top of her thinking as an adult I like really childish things and trying to give me childish gifts that would have been inappropriate for me as a young teen, much less someone close to thirty, whenever I correct her about my interests, she will tell me I definitely liked whatever thing before or be all sad that I don't like something or say "Well how was I supposed to know what things you like!". With her claiming I liked something in the past, this is 9 times out of 10 a lie and something I'd tell her as a young child I did not like that she would keep getting me because she wanted me to like whatever it was. Not that it really matters because there's no reason to think someone close to thirty is going to have the same interests they had at like, age nine. With her being sad, she's guilt-tripping me for not liking whatever that thing is. She will make it quite clear she wants me to be interested in said childish thing and it's just so hurtful to her that I, an adult, am not interested in things meant for small children. The last one is just plain stupid. Here's how: ask and actually remember. And yes, it is perfectly normal to expect someone's mother to remember what they like. It's perfectly normal to expect anyone claiming closeness to any person to have a general idea of what they like, like what the fuck. -My mom has always lied about her college attendance. It's anywhere from 1 year completed to one year away from completing med school, or one semester away from this or that. Majors change. The type of degree changes. It's been medicine, communications, business, etc. Recently, she claimed that she, as a person in a developing country in the early 80s was attending university to get a degree in Computer Science to learn to make video games. My mother never played a video game until she came to the states and we got a Playstation, which she only played on a handful of times. We had systems before them but she wouldn't even touch them. She'd also never used a computer until 1997, when we bought one. She admitted that both that day, and she mentioned it offhand when I started attended the third elementary school in first grade when we went into the computer lab they had. But suddenly she claimed she was "making video games all the time back then". I really don't know how much to believe about my mom's (or my dad's, for that matter) accomplishments in the past either. They seem to change, stack up, and simply be impossible for a single person to have done all of them, especially in relatively the same time period. Supposedly, she had won awards/trophies in the following: swimming, track, ballroom dancing, choir, volleyball, major beauty contests, and some other stuff I forgot. While also doing the following: having a 4.0 (supposedly since kindergarten and never making a single B, at a school she claimed was a really tough academy), working two to three jobs at once (sometimes claiming they were full time), partying from Thursday night through Sunday night every week since high school, spending lots of time shopping (while also claiming most of her clothes were custom made because normal stores didn't have clothes that fit her), scuba diving, traveling to other countries, it goes on. Her college story is she was: random amount of years with random degree type and random major in, working anywhere from 1 part-time job to 3 FULL TIME jobs and still partying Thursdays through Sundays. Still a 4.0 student, and a full-time student at that. Full-time student, full-time job, and 4.0 would already be pretty hard for most people, but possible at least, with some really weird scheduling for one of them. Three full-time jobs plus full-time school AND partying AND 4.0 GPA? Not only are there not enough hours in the day/week for that, even if there were, I still wouldn't believe it. Maybe if there were several part-time jobs, sure. And yes, for the record, she's counting full-time job as 40hrs. Some math. There's 168 hours in a week. 3 jobs at 40hr/wk each is 120 hours. That leaves 48 hours left. Say we give her the minimum amount of sleep needed to be somewhat functional at 4hrs/night. That's 28 hours, so now we're down to 20 hours remaining in the week for full-time school attendance, studying, eating, bathing, studying, commute, and partying! She did not live on campus, I know this. She lived with her parents until she moved to the states. But being generous and unrealistic, we'll say her full commute to and from school and work in the day was magically all close together and that took up an hour per day, knocking 20 down to 13 hours. Full time school is generally at least 12 credit hours per semester, which can be roughly 4 3 credit hour classes on average. My classes that aren't labs generally range from 50 minutes to 1 and 15 minutes, unless it's summer or once a week courses. So with that in mind, I estimate she'd be attending class for at least 10 hours a week. From thirteen, we're down to 3 hours for partying, studying, bathing, and eating for the rest of the week. And remember, she claims she partied most of the night four out of seven days a week. Yeah, no. And this is me putting those figures at completely unrealistic times. Reality was probably, from the details I have managed to gather up: she was getting an associates in either business or communications (communications seems most likely), completed one year, had a part-time job, and then dropped out. Some other details of her past don't really wash either. When I started recounting what she'd told me myself and laid it out on a timeline, there was a good half a decade of years where there was simply nothing but she always acted like certain events were back to back. She claims she dropped out of school because her father got sick and she had to suddenly foot all her parents bills (while also claiming she came from a wealthy family on both sides), then no word on what happened to him because he was still sick when I was born and actually died a few months after I was born. But she usually says he "got better" at this part in the story (but will later say he never really recovered and progressively got worse...but somehow no longer needed her money???) and then SUDDENLY her sister needed her in America, so she moved to the states to be with her and thus still couldn't go back to school. (Some versions of the story have her going to American WITH her sister though, not AFTER. Making it more confusing. And in those versions, they just wanted to move to the US and college is not mentioned at all.) I did the math though. My mom should have graduated high school around 1980, and she claims she went into college right afterwards. She attended for about a year, so now we're at 1981. She moved to the United States in 1987 or 1988, met my dad in 1988, married him in late 1989 when she was 5 months pregnant, and then I was born in 1990. What happened in that massive gap in between? It can't be that she was taking care of her father that whole time. She claims that incident with her father's health lasted over the span of 4-6 months of doctor related stuff before the ordeal was "over". So we'd be at what, 1982 or 1983, at the very most. And she claims she couldn't return to school because then her sister needed her...in 1987 or 1988...I gotta wonder if her dad getting sick had anything to do with her dropping out at all. I know she did attend though. She had a transcript she showed a staff person at a college once when she was trying to get into their school. I remember she was very upset that they wouldn't take her credits from over a decade ago in a completely different country to be used to progress through a new degree. He was like, "um...ma'am, I'm pretty sure we can't transfer these. You'll just have to retake them." Because he said she'd have to retake the courses if she wanted credit for those on her degree, she refused to continue with the application process and sought out no other colleges after that. My father also flipped out at a university staff member when they wouldn't cater to him as well, but I think I've already recorded that story. Since then, she has taken certification type courses, which she would make a huge deal out of and how she was going to make so much money from them, then abruptly stop mentioning them because she quit the course and act like she never did it at all. She's done this at least twice with real estate stuff. My father did stuff like this too. While he completed the DJ school thing (there is indeed a certificate!), he spent a lot of money on some art distance learning school that he abruptly quit because the teacher corrected his mistakes. He claimed he quit because the teacher couldn't understand his genius and he "improved" the works he was supposed to mimic. There were no "mistakes". They were just trying to hold him back. HOW DARE THEY GIVE HIM B'S!! He showed me these old graded lessons. Honestly, I would have given him C's. Given how little he was following instructions and how badly he was doing at the part he did follow, he didn't deserve the high B's he got. I can safely say, at that point in time, as a child, I would have scored better on those assignments than him. And mostly because I know how to actually follow instructions. But it was an eye-opening experience. My dad and so many people around him always told me about how great an artist was and how no one compared to him. But this teacher who never had to sit face to face with him didn't give a shit what those people said. He was "okay", decent, but no Da Vinci like he always compares himself to. Better than average=/=genius master. The average person does not bother cultivating their artistic abilities at all. He also completely lacked any creativity as well. He can only copy what he sees, and only decently at that. Even now, his masterpieces are all works he traced over but just did in a different medium. That's nice and all, but I've yet to see him do a piece that's actually wholly original. In my entire life, the only art he seems to have done that wasn't replicating someone else's work were sketches from elementary school. And that's it. But art's his thing, so he's a genius at it, like all those instruments he had. Totally. -Recently, I had this big emotional reaction to something I remembered. I don't know why, because it wasn't physically abusive or anything like that. And I straight up went into denial at first until I calmed down. Now that the emotion has passed and I can think back on this more clearly, I am positive it happened and confused why I couldn't believe it did. I can recall this easily now, full memory and all, without the emotional intensity. This was a form of punishment used exclusively by my mother when my father wouldn't be home and when we lived in the second house. She would pretend I didn't exist and have my brother pretend along. I'm sure, given his age at the time, my brother likely would have no recollection of this at all and probably was just thinking "gotta do what mommy says" at the time. He had to have been around 2-4 when this was going on, which would make me roughly around 5-7ish. This was around the same time she would lock me in my room for hours and started slamming me against things and making death threats. Or at least, I think so. I can't really remember the ways in which I was punished as a really young child, and I can't ask my parents because they will claim they practically never punished me at all and it was always a light pat on the butt but I "thought" I was in "so much pain" and it was "really funny". I do recall she started doing the sabotaging when I was young and lived in the first house. One of the first times she sabotaged me in regards to money my dad gave me (pocket change) happened back then in that place. But I don't know if they hit me or anything like that back then. I'm sure they probably did, but I was so young then I've probably lost those memories. From their behavior around me just a little bit older and how they acted around my brother when he was a baby/toddler, it's at the very least highly likely. They were pretty rough with him as a baby. I remember all the adults around me telling me about the proper way to hold a baby when I held my brother. When he was born, I was 3, nearly 4 years old and I was a small child who was regularly underfed and he was a really big baby! But I did my best to do what adults told me was the safest way to hold him. My parents would only hold him like that for photos. Otherwise, they both (especially my mom) basically treated him like a rag doll. And this was the kid they planned to have and was supposed to fix their marriage or something. Sometimes I wonder about how I was treated. They clearly didn't want me. I mean, they straight up told me that as a little kid! These days, and probably since I was a teenager, my mom pulls this "we didn't plan you, oh, I never planned on having any children at all, but then GOD BLESSED ME WITH YOU". It's total bullshit. You can't spend the earlier part of my childhood saying you didn't want me and I ruined your life by being born, then pull this mystical god bullshit. If I have to hear "every child is a blessing" one more time...ugh...She's such a fake Christian anyway. She spends ridiculous amounts of psychics, tarot readers, and "magical spells" for money (and she still gets readings about her and that celebrity, pfft), keeps witchcraft stuff all over her room and her house (always has) in hopes it'll bring in more money, crystals for the same purpose, etc. All kinds of New Age bullshit. And there's the Buddha statues too, which she adorns with symbols of money hoping ole Sid will throw her some enlightened cash or something. She will flip out if I even suggest I might not be Christian (which I'm not), but the only god she worships is money. -Recently, she bought me some "gifts". They were actually useful for once, so I accepted them. After getting the gifts, when she saw me again, she was like "did you tell (your wife) I bought those for you? does she know it was ME who gave YOU those (gifts)?" all smug. And then "what does she think about them? was she IMPRESSED? aren't I the greatest mom?" bullshit. Then about two weeks after the gift giving, she asks if I kept track of the receipt for the gifts because that's how much I owe her. That's how much I owe her. For the gifts. The gifts I didn't ask for in the first place. That cost ~$200. No gift is ever a gift. She wanted the high of being praised for giving a gift, the mother martyr points, the jab at my wife, and to keep every penny of what she spent in the long run. Apparently, every gift is really just a loan. But there's more on that and object possession. -Also recently she was complaining about all sorts of things, her energy bill being too high (I've tried to explain to her why her bill's so high and how she can reduce it, but she won't listen), and how she needs a new house, and I mentioned she'd have to account for the moving expenses, which would be really high for all the crap they have. She's like "I don't have a lot of junk, everything is a TREASURE...I just have to go through it and find a place for everything!!" So I offered to help her sort through some boxes she'd had in her garage since my parents bought that house years ago...which I'm pretty sure were boxes that were left unpacked from another move and the move before that. They just seem to accumulate unpacked boxes, plus more stuff to stack on said boxes. My brother also offered to help, and by help, I mean we were the ones mostly sorting through it while she cried out about how we couldn't get rid of anything. Boxes of flyers. FLYERS. Some from as early as 2002. Old bills from then, junk mail from then. Tons and tons of psychic junk mail and bought spell recipes. I loved the one that was a spell to "get rid of your enemies" with complementary "real graveyard dirt". Boxes of diet pills expired over a decade ago and other nonsense supplements, including some "pleasure increasing" nonsense. Psychic spells to increase weight loss. Mounts of psychic books and pseudoscience nonsense, witchcraft books, cassette audio books about the afterlife. She kept about half the mailed spells, claimed some of them were "cooking recipes with silly names" (they were obviously not), all the books, and the cassettes even though she doesn't have a cassette player. She claims she does though, but she doesn't. Also, lots of my dad's socks. Two full tea sets covered in cigarette butts and ashes that were so filthy I didn't want to touch them. Boxes upon boxes of shoes. She also has so many shoes and clothes that her massive walk-in closet, which is seriously the size of a small bedroom, is completely loaded and a lot of what's in there has to already be put in boxes. And there's more. I know they have a whole storage room in their basement full of more boxes, and I'm willing to bet money there's at least one box of her shoes in there as well. Also a giant tub of shoes too. She claimed, right then and there, that she wears all of them all the time. But they've clearly been sitting in those boxes for years, if not a decade or more. I don't exactly pay attention to her shoes when I see her, but it always seemed like there really just a handful of shoes she wears and a handful of outfits she wears regularly. The others she just seems to buy and hold on to so she has more "stuff". My dad does this as well, just with different things. Then we got to stuff from when my brother and I were little kids. Stuffed animals, toys, children's books. That, and some weird sex dice my mom threw in with the little kid stuff. Ugh. For everything I pulled out, she claimed it was hers. We'd correct her. She'd want to keep it anyway, including toys where they were chewed up by dogs and missing entire limbs, eyes, ears, etc. I threw those away and put most of the toys in a bag for her to donate later. I'm pretty sure she'll just put them back in the box though. She demanded to keep a good portion of the toys no matter what I did. Including a toy she bought for my brother that was a preschool toy...that she got him when he was in 3rd grade and went on about how she had such fond memories of us back then. My brother never played with that toy. He was embarrassed by it and we both told her to get rid of it back then. I don't know why she bought it to begin with. But she called every toy "her doll" (I wouldn't really call anything I pulled out a "doll", TBH, so that was really weird wording on her part, but she seemed to be calling stuffed toys dolls.), and she claimed my old Pikachu plush from 1999 was hers. My brother still likes Pokemon, so I handed it to him and she was upset about it. My mother has never liked Pokemon. There was also a Yu-Gi-Oh shirt in there with holes in it. It used to belong to my brother (we both had a few of these, but his always ended up with holes in them...probably because he always let her wash his clothes and I washed my own clothes by then). She was like "don't throw that away" and expected one of us to wear it. Neither of us could fit into that shirt, but also holes. And LOL I don't like Yu-Gi-Oh anymore and he's not big into it either. So I threw it away. FFS, the back half of the shirt was tie-dye. She was so upset about it going though. And then we got to White Fang. It was a copy my brother had from elementary school, complete with Scholastic logo in big letters on it. I knew it was his, so I was already about to hand it over to him, but before I could, my mom screamed "That's my book! That's my (incorrectly attempts to say the author's name 3 times before she finally gets it right when she's close enough to read the cover)! It's mine! Give it to me!". My brother said, "no, this is my book from elementary school. I got it at a book fair." She said it was definitely hers. Then he opened up the book to show her he'd written his name in it, twice. In the front and back, in crayola marker at that. And then she countered with the strangest, but not at all surprising thing after he said reiterated he definitely got it from a book fair. "Yeah, and who paid for that book at that book fair? ME. That means it's MINE." So, in that single sentence, my mom just claimed that every single possession we were ever given by her never belonged to us. She just allowed us to have them. They were ultimately hers to do whatever she wanted with. But this doesn't surprise me. She always acted like our things were never hers, and she often claimed things other relatives and friends got for me as gifts were bought by HER. (My father did this too. EVERYTHING came from them.) I definitely think both my parents are mild hoarders at the very least. In any house they've had, after a while, everything fills up. They even think that if there is empty space, that means they can fill it with more "treasures". None of it is high quality anything. It's everything they've gotten on sale, at yard sales, etc. Massive amounts of cheap things bought even cheaper. I'm positive, after that garage sorting, my mother must have at least a thousand pairs of shoes and she is not content with that. She wants more, because "you can never have enough clothes and shoes". My dad buys hobby shit until he moves on to another hobby, but never gets rid of the old stuff and he never returns to an old hobby. Or uses half the equipment/tools he bought for said hobby while he was actually doing that hobby. He thinks if he has all those things he will be a master of whatever it is he's doing. he hasn't painted much of anything since I was a child, yet he keeps the same old paints in his shop from when I was a child. Because he might need them one day. He doesn't do leatherworking anymore, but keeps everything from then. Hundreds and hundreds of tools for that. Most he never actually used to begin with. So many half finished kits he never returns to. That was another thing. I found an old kit for some leather project that my dad just gave up on and my mom said, "don't throw that away! your dad's working on that!". It was already ripped and the last time my father worked on that was when I was in 5th or 6th grade, back in 2001. No, he is not "working on it". Given the amount of dust and where it was, I really doubt he remembers it existed. Their bathroom in any house they've had always filled up with crap--first the counter, then the tub, then the area surrounding the toilet. All closet space will be packed to the max with things no one uses or rarely uses. I remember avoiding looking for things in the hall closets as a kid because it would be an avalanche when you open it up. Garage is 100% storage junk. Basement space will also mostly be junk. Their bedroom will be filled with junk. In one house, at some point, there was basically a walkway to the bed and the bathroom. Everything else was piles of junk. On dressers, on the floor, under the bed. Around the TV. The only spaces that would be letter cluttered were the living room, dining room, and kitchen. And the kitchen would still be covered in junk and lots of rotten food, filthy piled high dishes, etc. We had mice at some point in one house because of all the filth. The living area would be cluttered in a more acceptable way, with lots of decorations and furniture filling up every bit of space. The dining room was rarely used in any house they had with one, so that was left largely uncluttered because the whole space was oddly ignored and avoided. In their current house, the garage is packed full of junk, there's a storage room in the basement clogged with boxes and boxes of junk (I was not going to go through that shit too, ugh), the closets in their bedroom and the halls are filled to the brim (the walk-in closet barely has room to walk into it), the bathroom is pretty full of junk (including the tub being unusable from junk) to the point my mom has moved her toothpaste/contact stuff/etc to a guest bathroom despite them having a massive counter and two sinks in their bathroom, the kitchen is filthy and loaded with dishes and general junk everywhere (flyers from forever ago, broken things, etc), and other rooms are gradually being filled with furniture and decorations they just HAD TO have. I know the reason they keep getting a bigger house is because my dad thinks he is entitled to live like a millionaire and no size is ever enough for him (and he can't afford any of them), but if they didn't keep moving into bigger and bigger houses, I'm pretty sure they'd have run out of space for all their things by now. My mom usually would get antsy and push for moving around when they'd fill up a large portion of the house anyway, and then he'd go looking for a bigger house to stroke his ego with. She's getting antsy about their house now. She claims it's because bills, but I think it's also about the stuff. Both my parents are also of the delusion that they could fit all their stuff into one moving truck and do one load and that they wouldn't have to pay anyone to move it. My dad can't lift a good junk of the furniture he bought/"saved" from being thrown away. My parents both freak out if I mention getting rid of things I personally bought for myself. Because how could I not hold on to everything FOREVER? It's really disturbing. In their heads, they think they live like kings and queens, but they're just as trashy as most of the other people around them. My brother's not on that level, but he also got anxious that I got rid of video games I bought and that I threw out shoes I didn't wear anymore. He claims he only has 1 pair of shoes, but when asked further, he actually have 3-4 he regularly uses and a whole box full of old shoes he doesn't wear anymore because he "never throws anything out". My brother also has a lot of things he won't get rid of for some reason, because at some point, it gave him some joy. So he keeps it. Really wish I could just hire Konmari and have her go through their house, but I think she'd need a mental health professional alongside her to make any progress. You can't really toss out what doesn't "spark joy" or have an immediate necessarity all wabi sabi style if the person in question says they want/need literally EVERYTHING in the house. It's just sad. -One more about my dad. I forgot about this entirely, but when I was on one of my Kate Bush sprees, I ended up on Björk songs and remembered something from a long time ago. My dad mentioned this a lot when I was in elementary school through middle school, but I remember this was before pre-k too. Here's how the story goes. Supposedly, I used to sing thing one song all the time with him. Like he'd sing this one part, then I'd sing the next part in response and it was so adorable or something. And he'd sing one line and expect me to sing the next part and I'd have no idea what he was talking about. Then he'd tell me about how I used to do this ALL the time for YEARS before. Eventually, I figured out what the song was in late middle school or early high school. It was "Is That You Mo-Dean?" from The B-52's. Let's do some time keeping here. That song came out in 1992. I was born in 1990. This will be important. First off, my dad also couldn't remember the title of this song, but he was a supposed big fan of The B-52's. Owned all their albums. He owned the album that song was on, but didn't know what it was. He also sang it in a completely fucked up melody from the real song. But that wasn't the really weird thing about this. My earliest memory of him bringing this supposed thing up in was from when we lived in the first house, some time while my mom was pregnant with my brother and having no idea what he was talking about then. I had never completely forgot the memory, and last time I went that search back in either late middle school or early high school, it was triggered back by the same thing--Björk. A specific song by Björk that I remember the music video playing on TV in the background as something "new". That song was "Human Behavior", which came out in 1993. My brother was born at the tale end of 1993, which further cements that year as being when this happened. He was born near the end of Fall and that song came out in Summer, so this memory occurred sometime in between then. The B-52's song came out in 1992. There is absolutely no way I had been doing this thing for "years" with my father before I suddenly "forgot" about it. As time went on, he would exaggerate me as having done this even in kindergarten, but I clearly had no recollection of it since before starting pre-k. I'm really amazed I have any memory of that since I was only 3 then, but I remember that night being really uncomfortable in general because my dad had his cousin over and they always got drunk together and partied really loudly and acted inappropriate, like he did with any friends he brought over. (All my early childhood memories from really really young seem to be remembered solely because there was something uncomfortable, painful, or terrifying about them.) And they'd always involve me in their nonsense while my mom ignored me. I also remember being just in my underwear that whole time, like usual. What was with them always wanting me in my underwear if I was inside the house? It was like, inside CLOTHES OFF, outside CLOTHES YOU'RE HORRID IF YOU REMOVE YOUR SHOES. Well, at least until I started wearing clothes inside the house on my own because I learned that from other kids. And they thought it was weird when I did that. Anyway, that got me thinking about some other things. My dad's supposedly played many instruments, he used to own +20 guitars, claims he was in a choir and sang amazing, went to DJ school, and owned hundreds of CDs and cassettes that were totally all things he "loved". But I've never been impressed with him when he's played an instrument in front of me, his singing is actually some of the worst I've ever heard, and he seemed to only listen to a handful of CDs in his collection when he wanted to go on a nostalgia trip about how cool the 80s were. When I was in middle school and high school he'd force me to sit with him and listen to old albums and music videos and concerts so I could see what "good" music was like. He'd remember names, but none of the songs those people did unless they were all male rock band that was very heavily popular with mainstream audiences. Especially with female singers like Kate Bush, Tori Amos, Björk, Fiona Apple, he'd get all embarrassed when we actually listened to some of their songs. But he'd own several of their albums. He wouldn't fully sit through any song of artists like this. He was also really weird about CD buying. Neither of my parents would let me buy any until most people had already moved on to digital downloads, and the few CDs I had before then were gifts from other people. My dad also limited how many CDs my mom could buy, and she'd have to sneak in some CDs because they were by artists he decided weren't "good" and couldn't be cluttering up his "perfect" collection of "good" music. He'd always go on about how he knew about so much underground indie music, but as I got older and learned about those artists, all he knew about them was whatever one hit single they had that became mainstream popular or they eventually transitions into being more mainstream. Even with the artists/bands he seemed most obsessed with, it still seemed like he only knew their most popular hits and nothing else, but he could tell you all these cool VH1 trivia nonsense about them. And eventually, he abandoned collecting CDs and buying music altogether like every other hobby he got really obsessed with then just stopped engaging with completely. He claims it's because there's no good music now, but he rarely listened to any of that music back then. I don't think my dad really has hobbies. I think he latches onto things he thinks will give him status to other people and clings to that in hopes of looking "cool", "smart", "wealthy", "interesting", etc. None of it is real. He can manage to give the illusion, but much like his copied art, there's no originality underneath it. It's empty. ETA: So, earlier I thought, you know, I could probably convince her to at least get rid of that shitty keyboard they got me and never let me do anything with. They'd been keeping it all this time, letting it collect massive amounts of dust in a corner behind boxes. I managed to get her to give it up but she still tried to convince me they could use the stand that came with it. "Don't get rid of that! Your dad could use it in his shop to put things on!" I countered that with the point that in all this time, he's never used it for that before when it's been sitting there in his reach. I took the stand too and dropped them off at Goodwill. While I was in there, I noticed she put back all the things she wanted to "keep" that were "really important" to her back in boxes. There was a small bag of dominoes in there that my brother asked to keep because he wanted to play with them, and she wouldn't let him keep them. Claimed there were super important to her, then tried to describe them (and described them wrong repeatedly until she saw what they actually looked like, then claimed "that's what I meant!") and claimed she did psychic readings with them so they're really important to her. These were dominoes that had been sitting in the same boxes for years, sprawled out all over the bottom of the box with only a few still in the bag they were originally stored in. Yeah, really important. She wouldn't let him have them, but all she did with them was put them back into a box. I forgot yesterday too that when we were about halfway through the third box, she started whining about us taking things out and giving her the stuff she wanted to keep to put up somewhere. Because she claimed she didn't have any room for them. "They're just going to go back into another box. There's no place else to put them!" This was after she claimed: 1) everything in the house would fit in one moving van and only need one trip 2) she planned on getting a smaller house next time and everything they currently had would absolutely fit 3) she has plenty of space in the house and doesn't have excess books because they're arranged on bookshelves The last part isn't even really true. Yes, she has her bookshelves filled. About three bookshelves filled. Plus several storage bigs and drawers full and tubs full and she still has them scattered all over their house and in her car. Plus more in these storage boxes. But yep, that's where everything went. Back in a box. Those dirty tea sets? She didn't clean them. Just left them in that ash covered nastiness. She also claimed all her books were worth a lot. She buys books in bulk used to the point they're worth maybe 10 cents a piece when she buys them. And they're all generic romance novels. She thinks they are all worth at least ten times what she herself paid for them, and she has multiples of many of them but thinks all the books she owns are "rare". When I've gone to used bookstores with her as a teenager and she's tried to actually get money from some of these books, often they could give her very little and most of the time, they outright refused to take her books. Because they had so many of them. My dad is the same way. They buy things as cheaply as possible, but expect everyone else to value their degraded objects they bought cheaply (and typically used) for more than what the items would have been worth new. Simply because it belonged to them, and they only have the "best" of things. She would often leave with the books she intended to give them because they wouldn't give her enough money for them. That, or because the money went on store credit and she wanted cash, pfft. As I left with the keyboard, I was just thinking to myself, "Why the hell did I bother?" If I didn't take that keyboard out myself, I'm pretty sure it would continue to sit there and go with them throughout however many moves they make until they both kick over. I'm honestly not even sure if the thing worked anymore. What's really strange is she was always big on pawning everything of actual value behind everyone's backs, including her own things. But she values these junk items she gets off ebay and at yard sales like they're pirate treasure. I don't understand the logic there.