step-possum-vents

[step-possum-vents]

Pls look at the state of the closet I live in

Trigger Warning: hoarding, mild mention of loss of appetite, nudity and loss of privacy mention

Precursor: Joanne is not her real name, I will never use real names for anyone mentioned, everyone has a pseudonym.

So this is the kitchen and dining room, and believe it or not, this is post cleaning. Step Mom cleaned the counter behind the camera and that corner on the left of pic 1 a few days ago and this is its new state. In pic 1 you can see my water bottle on the left, and in pic 2 there's a green crossbody bag that is mine. Everything else is not mine (okay, except that yellow-orange bowl in the sink. I ate rice and forgot to put it in the dishwasher. Wait, my bad. In pic 3 I have two hats there for when I walk the dogs. I don't think you can see them, though, a grey beanie and dark grey cap.)

The bar always looks like this, and the closest chair has never been used as a chair. When we eat dinner, one person stands and two sit. If I sit by myself, about 70% of the time I have to lug crap off the chair to sit, and make space in front of me to set my plate.

Last week we had a lot more boxes on the dining room floor, but someone cleaned it up (genuinely don’t know who).

Now for Step Mom's office and the hall. Again, believe it or not, but the office used to be worse. That shoe pile used to be a lot higher and lot harder to step over. I typically don't go in here because it's a mess and stressful (and I know the person who touches everything in here doesn't wash their hands after taking a piss.) Also, nothing in pic 1 belongs to me, and I'm pretty sure none of these are my clothes in pic 2. I don't do my own laundry because Joanne has a monopoly on the washer and dryer she paid for.

For the hall, that's about all of the hall. To the left is a very tiny closet filled with jewelry, towels, and crap, and to the right is the hall bathroom. As you can see, the ironing board lives in the hall, and that doorway acting as a clothesline is the washer and dryer's closet. I have never seen either door close. Every doorway upstairs is used to dry clothes that don't go in the dryer itself. (They need to air dry.)

This is the hall bathroom. This is our second of two total showers that has never been used and likely never will be used because I've been told I'm asking for too much for it to be cleaned for use. Inside is 15 years of dust, and the rod is for Joanne's clothes that I've never seen her touch or wear, and also... stuff at the bottom that's been there for a while. I shower in the main bathroom, and have to lock the door because Joanne will let herself in otherwise (and thoroughly complain later for being locked out) despite my nudity.

Now the bedroom I have to walk through to get to the bathroom for a shower. Mind you, dad sleeps alone, I'm sure you can tell why. Joanne sleeps on the sofa. This one is actually one that's gotten worse. The two tower dressers are for my dad, and the rest of his stuff is on the floor. Everything else is Joanne's. No, I don't think that vacuum has ever been used. (Our old one smelled terrible in use and I believe it was so old it was a vacuum bag one. Its last use was probably ~2016.)

And time for the bathroom! 99% of the counter space is taken by Joanne's make up and assorted crap. The drawer, likewise, is her crap. We have a scale that has been out of batteries for about 8 years, a candy corn halloween pot (I don't recall ever seeing it before) and assumed dirty clothes. Every knob and doorway has something hung on it, and the closet in this bathroom is in the mirror, but the laundry is piled just below the towels. I only put my clothes in there when I shower, and have my own hamper in my room. Also, we have green towels, as shown below. Those have been the towels we use for 15 years, and hell will freeze over before Joanne will replace them. Google say 5 years max. Go, Joanne! There's got to be a world record you can beat!

... oh my god there's the scissors she was looking for earlier.

Also, I'm not dissing hoarders or those living with them. I'm shaming and dissing Joanne not because she's a hoarder, but because she's a terrible person even with the hoarding out of the picture. I know hoarders have a serious problem and it's a hard habit to shake, and it's hard on the people they live with.

Joanne refuses to acknowledge the severity of the problem, and will stand on every hill she makes to assert that this is normal and she won't be cleaning it, nor will she allow me to clean it for her. She says, and I quote, "if you don't like it, leave." I have offered to pay rent since she pays bills and she said "you don't pay rent", but she "doesn't need my money, I should save it." Dad says he is tired of living like this, but ultimately, I haven't seen continuous change, so I reckon he told her once, and she cleaned the counter, then made it messy, and she chose to do something else. (She requires constant hounding to clean thoroughly.)

I've cleaned up for them before, tidying and wiping down the kitchen counters and dining table, but within 3 days, it was back to its original state, as Joanne sets her stuff down that she will "clean later" and later tends to be in about 150 years when everyone in this house is already dead.

This is the constant state of the house, and I do my best to keep my space clean. My therapist wonders why I stay in my room where I'm responsible for it and it stays organized (I can literally see 90% of my carpet, the only thing on my floor is a late Christmas gift I need to wrap. It's there so I remember, because I will forget.) Do you get why I'm in my room and not the rest of the house?

Also, living room is not shown due to its occupancy. If I took a picture in front of Joanne, she'd ask questions, and be very upset people knows this is how I live; it's not acceptable to show to others, but acceptable to live in (to her.) Also, it might show my dad, and compared to Joanne, my Spawn Point (Carol, mother) and Demon Spawn (Frank, half-brother), he is a fucking saint. (Again, not real names.)

Alright, just noticed I only ate a bowl of rice today and I'm actually hungry again. Time to go scavenge. (The way I could write a novel about our pantry and fridge but this is long enough.)

[step-possum-vents]

Hi, I'm Step Possum

This is literally just to yell into the void about my step mom because she's absolutely insane. I don't expect much interaction but I don't like her enough to share with the world how crazy she is (anonymously). My three (3) friends have heard enough about her and that's why you're here to see the shit show.

About Step Possum and Step Mom "Joanne":

Born in '99, they/he/she, I'm cool with it all. There's not much to tell, I'm a step possum named Step Possum. Joanne (fake name for Step Mom) is a Gen X licensed Karen.

TRIGGER WARNING: I have battled with an eating disorder since i was very very young, and sometimes that may come up in a post. I never want to trigger anyone, so I'll list topics that may be triggering that I might mention, but I will always always always tag "tw: ___" Those that might come up are: eating disorder, ableism, parental manipulation, toxic familial relationships, divorce of parents, abuse (mental, verbal, very light sexual), and bullying; talk of OCD, autism, depression, anxiety, and self hatred. I have lots of trauma (I will die convincing myself I am not traumatized) from growing up and I've decided this is how I will cope at my big age. Always take care of yourself first. It's hard to do, but it's worth it.

I've lived with my step mom (who we will affectionately call Joanne, not real name) since ~2011. I'm not great with dates due to mental/health issues in my youth, so it's as close as I can get to accurate, and I will strive to be as accurate as I can, but I will be honest. I've known her since July 2010 (I met her at a 4th of July party and met her dogs, because I love dogs, then introduced my dad. Big mistake.)

That's going to be all for the introduction post... for now.

Thanks for reading this far! This already feels therapeutic.

Ok bye!