Tuesday Bullshit

    I know I said that I would recap everything starting from the beginning I think I will just do that as I go.

Today, I wake up at my usual time before 7 during the weekday so that I get the kids up.  These are not my children.  Every one of them provides a challenge in some way and some much more than others.  I start with the youngest 2 because they require the most amount of time to get up and dressed.  The youngest child in the house is 6 with full autism and developmentally delayed.  The other child in the room is the youngest sibling.  He turned 7 in December.  He has the worst mental health issues out of all the children.  He literally has been diagnosed with a disorder that he opposes any and everything that is said or done.  Per the usual daily drama, he does not want to get up. He starts yelling and making an excuse of stretching because he does not want to get up. Kicking and flailing his arms.  His lazy father finally gets up to assist.  He does not use any discipline whatsoever.  I refuse to be talked to the way he talks to me.  I don't deserve the headache or drama.  

    The father sets the tone for every one in the house to get walked all over.  He would rather let the children do whatever they want and and be involved until it was absolutely necessary.  Uses tablets, tvs and computers as babysitters.  Because of every child having autism, they need the routine of which they have during the week when I am the one trying to keep some kind of structure. He also had mental health issues of which he refuses to work on even though he admittedly stated that he has them.  But then he projects his unstableness upon every one else and we all the pay the price for that. His addiction that he is constantly lying to his spouse about doesn't  help anyone one bit.  He hides, and lies.  Meanwhile, I suffer as well.  This morning, I received no back up.  No apology for being yelled or almost hit.  Hit fat ass is no back in bed yet again, for all I know ditching work AGAIN.  The king of excuses.  I know already that his reason will be because of working around the outside of the house finding garbage for curbside pick up day.  Under normal circumstances, that would be a very good thing.  Only, the outside was made so horrible because of his doing.  Collecting of junk that he does not need.  People not putting things away where they are supposed to go.

    But he will choose to complain and spread blame for the condition of the house.  He does the same thing with his addiction to. Sometimes I just want to beat the shit out of him.  I care for this family a lot. I know that my words thus far probably doesn't paint that kind of picture, but I do. I am trying to work on myself and get my own mental health in a manageable space, but it is in vain if a constant emotional load is being pressed down on me.  I feel abandoned, lonely, angry, resentful and most of all, broken all the time. Most of the time, I don't feel like I am a partner. I feel like a servant.