I’m living with Tyler who is my “companion” (he’s not willing to consider us boyfriends because he doesn’t want to jump into that so close after his divorce with his ex husband, and he doesn’t want any extra attachments or jealousy or possessiveness), then we have 3 former meth addicts living here at the house (one of them has a small relapse every month and a half or so), there’s another person staying at the house who just got out of jail who is psychotic without medications (he was fine when he was in jail, but now he’s having a hard time getting a doctor to give him those medications–this state [Washington] sucks when it comes to mental health) and we’re constantly having to watch him to make sure he doesn’t steal something to sell and then get back on meth again, he’s constantly trying to get painkillers—then there are two others who come in and out of the house who live in an RV who are staying here for about a month.
I have no privacy here. I share a bedroom with Tyler which holds the bed and some things on shelves. My computer is basically in the living room. I can’t make music in a way that feels private at all unless I wear headphones, and headphones mess with bass ranges in my ears unless they’re those big headphones with good frequency response, but I can’t wear those big headphones with my glasses for more than about 20 minutes, so everything I do is basically “public”. I can’t make YouTube videos here at the house really if they’re subjects that are hard to talk about in general. I definitely can’t record vocals comfortably, even though vocals are what I do best.
This situation right now sucks, the drama is through the roof, but it’s better than living with my mother. Anything is better than living with my mother and becoming a submissive do-nothing vegetable like she wants me to be.
I’m on disability for my mental issues. My grandmother destroyed my mother, my brother, and myself. My mother just parroted everything my grandmother demanded, even though it was my mother’s house. I was raised to be a gay man (and I like guys, no doubt about it, but I was terrified of looking at women). When my father was still alive (he died when I was 4, my brother is 5 years older than me), my brother would get beat with a belt for showing interest in girls. A church I went to separated the boys from the girls and taught the boys that the desire to look at naked women will send you to burn in hell for eternity. My mother and grandmother continued that tradition of mindset (she’ll still chastise my brother for looking at women, but is all in agreeance when I look at guys), but with no physical harm. My grandmother was mentally and verbally abusive. If it wasn’t perfect the first time, you weren’t allowed to do it ever again and you’d have to hear about how “stupid” you were every time she does it. This could be the types of chores that affect the rest of the house. If you burned food once, you weren’t allowed to use the stove again and you’d have to hear how stupid you were for not knowing how to do something right the first time. They also refused to teach anything.
The only things I really learned from my mother were how to form words, to talk, to shit, and how to go camping. Everything else I learned from television. Just about anything else at the house I had to learn how to focus out because I was always considered a terrible person who isn’t smart enough to take care of myself. I was raised to be a retarded gay man. I would get congratulated on how I would put groceries on the conveyor belt, but never congratulated for anything that actually took effort to accomplish. I was ALWAYS told to quit when something became difficult. My mother would never help me with my homework–if she saw I was struggling, she’d DO my homework and tell me that it’s ok that I’m not smart enough to do it myself. This includes when I was in college.
You have no idea what kind of toxic environment living with my mother was. I’m 41 and I was living there through most of my life (I lived on my own for about a year, lived with Brad/Faun from 2004-2006) until February of this year when I moved in with Tyler. I got on disability in 2010.
So… having said that, there are a lot of things I’m stressed about here at the house. Having no privacy is one of the biggest issues. We’re going to convert the coat closet into a recording booth, but that still doesn’t help that much when I’m writing music.
Anyway, sorry to vent so much, but I figure you should know why I’ve been so, SOOOOO nasty these past few weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever been this foul on a forum before, and I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated people. There’s really no excuse.