I know I should try to write on this blog when things are maybe not so horribly bad but the only time I feel like writing, like really writing about my life, is when things are horribly bad.  Today I am feeling low.  Desperate low.  I am homeless right now.  Kurt and I got into a big fight and he said that he wanted me out of "his" house (can I capitalize, italicize, cap and bold the word "HIS" because that's what he did during our argument).  He said his son was coming into town and he didn't want him sleeping on the floor, you know, the floor where Holden has been sleeping for the last nine months.  And that his son said that HIS house was too crowded and a bunch of other stuff.  Ultimately in the argument Kurt called my mother a dumbass alcoholic, my father a drug using loser and my sister a total whacko.  And even if all those things are true, he should not have said them.  I did not at any time insult him personally or talk about his family. I did, however, throw my diet coke in his face (I still gush when I think about that.  That was lovely).

Last Thursday I moved my stuff out then drove my Mia and Holden to Arizona to stay with my family.  Eric is with his dad and then there is the nightmare of Adam which is too much to go into right now (but Alexis basically kidnapped Max on his birthday and Adam was high on oxy.  Great day!)  So, when I got back from Arizona I had no where to go.  I had Michael with me and my dad hates Michael so he wouldn't' take him.  So we drove around to about 5 parks, Michael, Max and me, and it was a very difficult day.  Michael ended up going with his dad and I went to my brothers.  It's been hard.  I cant' really take a shower and I can't shave my legs and I am taking pills so that I can sleep.  Then this morning on the way to work a giant rock hit my windshield and my windshield is shattered.  And i am broke. And scared.  And homeless and sad and then my boss said that i was dressed inappropriately today.  Michael keeps sending me texts about how he is crying himself to sleep every single night.

I keep hoping things will get better and for a moment they do.  And then it comes crashing back down. Today I have those bad feelings, the ones that seem to bury me deep.  The worst thing about it is that there is so little, so absolute little, I can do.  I know things have been worse, but not much worse.  Maybe not worse.
Most importantly, I HATE KURT.  I will never, not ever, speak to him again.  And if it happens that I have to, certainly I will never fake the pretense that I am with him, care about him or respect him.  He has been telling me for the last five months that he doesn't have enough money for toilet paper.  For nothing.  But when I stopped by there on my way back from Arizona, his cupboards were full of food.  He had everything.  He is a liar. And to think that he still wanted us to be together, to date, saying he loved me and I was family.  To be fair, I never loved him and I have always known that.