I Grew Up In An Aggressively Christian Low Income House. Sometimes, I Look Back, Telling Myself That

I grew up in an aggressively Christian Low income house. Sometimes, I look back, telling myself that it wasn't so bad and that my brain exaggerates things. I spent a good two years in a house that had no insulation and was missing several walls on the inside. The door I had to my room at one point was a sheet that was held in place by thumbtacks. The house itself held a 10 year old me, a 5 year old brother of mine, a 3 year old brother of mine, and my sister, who had to be 2. Then there were the adults, my uncle, who was an alcoholic, my stepmother, who was awful to me but cared greatly for her kids, my dad who was a drug addict to the point of me finding his stashed needles in my clothes basket, my grandmother who was the only one making money and it was her unemployment as she had gotten too old to keep working as a nurse, and my grandfather ... he was the one who took me to church, among other things that I'm not quite ready to post on the internet yet. The house was a 3 bedroom 2 bath. Things sucked to put it lightly, but I still tell myself to this day that it wasn't so bad. Yes, people have it worse, and they have every right to complain .... but that does not make your complaints invalid, you know? Like people can be worse off than you, but that doesn't mean you were well off. I got lost in the sauce on this one. I don't know where I was going anymore. Something, something religious, teachings that are meant to hide trauma and convince you that things were just great when they were not, are harmful, so on so forth.

Sometimes visiting family is not a good thing. I'm tired their coffee tastes awful, and this place is so messy physically and verbally.

I'm not doing well this evening. My grandmother, who has been taking care of my cat for a few years now, just let me know he is not doing well health wise, and she can not get him to eat regularly. She has tried a lot of different food, but nothing seems to work for long. He might not have long left. The last time I saw him was before the covid lockdowns. I'm going to miss him. A couple of old pictures I have of him, his name is Garfield.

Unfortunate update here I was told today that my little man has been cremated.

It's kind of nice having no plans on a Sunday. Growing up in a religious house meant that so much of my time on Wednesdays and Sundays was spent at church. I am just enjoying the little things about my freedom. Getting a little high scrolling Tumblr to admire amazing furry artists.

I think I'm going to try making some art again it has been a few years since I got discouraged last. Let's see how this goes. _______________________________________Well it was a good start but after a few failed attempts at arms on my snake man I am taking a break.

It's been a long day already. My brain has looped around from harassing me last night about my mistakes to hyper focusing on my father, the drug addict and how I should have done more to help him. There was nothing I could have done he was the adult and chose his high over his kids. I really want to be nicer to my younger self, but I feel like I can't.