So when Sandy took me to get my bike, we discusssed the situation, she asked how things were going. I basically said I am in hell and totally unhappy ::shrug:: She’s nuts, I don’t really care what she thinks or says, but she did clarify something for me. She mentioned the cremation issue- what a doozy. Apparently my grandmother has lied, yet again, big surprise. She told me that Mike had invited them to the cremation ( “who wants to see that? i’ve never been to one of thosee, etc, etc”) So I guess her and Pam went to this thing.
So the only reason I know about any of this bullshit is because, pre-emptively, just as a psycho (lol) sociopathic narcissist does, my grandmother had to build a narrative to plant seeds of (at the least) skepticism or what? she told me of course a version of the story that left her helpless and i was told that it wasn’t her that committed the offense, that sandy told mike to cause problems, and that she raked mike and then sandy through the coals about things. Sandys version was quite different. And the perp of the offense, of pushing dons hat down, ass he’s dead lying on the morgue bed cremation thing (WTf) and made some comment about how that’s how he always wore his hat when her and pam came over ( according to sandy, he did that to pretend like he’s asleep to avoid them). apparently mike was talking to the cremation guy and not payng attention. apparently he noticed the hat, and sandy plead her case, it wasn’t her and she told him. he waited until they were finished and he even took them out for breakfast. later on, he called them over to confront them and my grandma and pam were terrified of being caught, and they argued? this is all so retarded and honestly, who the fck keeps talking to people who do this bullshit.
i just cant wrap my mind around this shit, because it all seems like this behavior creates the opposite outcome of what a person would want, like the effort behind all this seems like maybe if it was put towards healthy positive shit, it would actually be worth doing? the confusing part is that they seem to do this crap because they’re insecure and self conscious, like they’re trying to manipulate the other people into feeling some type of way? but it’s so obvious. it has to be a legitimate addiction to the dopamine or whatever release, the rush from doing this crap. or maybe its about feeling like they’re in control, so it doesn’t matter the way its done or how it turns out, it’s just satisfying some effort. it seems so reactionary, impulsive, based on a life on autopilot, like the person is diverted from their zone to half ass hail mary, even the effort of manipulation is basically retarded.
it doesn’t matter. everything that i do she complains or says underhanded shit. i’ve been busting my ass to put this retarded garden in the back, which takes a lot of effort because the soil is shit, the yards not maintained and nothing was functional. i waiver between being motivated by finishing this task and anxiety of dealing with her cynicism and resentment.
the truth is she’s mean, cruel and toxic as fuck. she treats her dog like absolute trash. he is neurotic and anxious, scared of her and passively defensive when touched or petted. she yells at him for wanting to go outside, she’s created a codependent neurotic pet, her and richard and their idiotic bullshit. ugh. this enviroment is horrible for me and im totally over giving a fuck. i have evolved every event and overcome all of my genuine love and concern for her and have almost completely become solely concerned about myself and my well being. i have a phone interview monday with a job that’s 13 minutes away on the bike. im done caring about this and will shift my brain to getting on my feet. i want to move on from these people entirely because they are absolutely cringe. in ever way, every single one of them. i have lived without them this whole time, even remaining half in and half out. i can say i don’t regret any of it and i also feel like there’s nothiing better to do than focus on me and my life.
i am 100% certain I am under surveillance. I know I was microwaved in jail, twice, and who knows what that’s done to my blood. who cares about this? who can i talk to about this? no one. i’ll just write here and who knows what will come of it.
whatthe 