Fucking Flower

Being constantly sandwiched between negativity, anger, frustration and more anger is not good for my health, or anyone's really.

If not for one fucking person's refusal to help, this would be easier on us. One fucking person. It's been made clear that possessions are far more important to said human, so here we are, getting angry and frustrated and hopeless and said person just doesn't care.

I hate people sometimes.

I hate that it's solely up to the hub and I to be the caretakers here. That we're the ones getting up three and four times per night to check on pater, clean his accidents, make sure he's not face down on the floor (like last night). That Said Person is standing directly in the way of some saving throws for us.

I hate that I'm a delicate fucking flower and unable to be a caretaker.

But mostly, right this minute, I'm kinda hatin on that Said Person and their fucking vanity.