Extended Sentence

The sentence of living with The Mother has been extended a month more, at least (calling it a sentence is not nice).

The property price was decreased this week, but it needs to decrease one more time, by roughly the same amount, before we can put our final offer on it, and then, if they say no, we'll have to kiss our dream goodbye (or nip and tuck it to recreate it in a different place). We've been waiting two months now. Two LONG months.

We've been a little down about it. Okay. A LOT down about it. Laying in bed and trying not to cry. Staring at the wall and trying to disappear. Eating our emotions. Drinking too much.

It hasn't been all bad, but it's getting more and more difficult. Being dissociative helps, helps spread it out. In an hour, a day, a week, we won't be bothered by it...until one of us is bothered by it.

It's not that living with The Mother, again, is wholly unpleasant, but we can tell they (her and the Stepdad) wish we'd find a place, though they also support us waiting for the property to decrease in price...because it's the ONE, and it's just going to take patience...it would be nice to start our life with James on adult terms soon.

And that's all we have for today. That and this huge bottle of gin.

~ Frankie (et al)