I love coming home from a nice holiday to people yelling at me and telling me who I am when the fact of the matter is they have no idea who I am

I'm sick, I'm stressed, I'm not perfect and never will be, but I'm not a bad person I made some shitty choices when I was younger but

I am no longer that person.

it kills my mood completely and all that relaxing and enjoyment and being myself is not under a fucking microscope

I'm glad no one is home so I can just CRY

like, I come back, you are in MY HOUSE as an invitation, rent you don't pay you have no right

to tell me who I am and what I think

just ... why

oh darling

hugs tight

thank you it's just like I already came back with some crud I picked up on the ship and I already have enough to worry about than someone's opinion of me

and I can't leave but I can't go hide in my office because my home is no longer a place I can seek refuge because it's teeming with people

it's not a large place, it's a small flat that now has five people in it

two on a couch, one in the guest bedroom then our bedroom which is obviously occupied

I just want to take my dogs and leave

but I can't because I have to find my next project and going two hours south isn't gonna do me any good professionally

I feel sick

mentally and physically now and I just feel like I'm on edge of a nervous breakdown