I have been trying so hard to hold shit together and I think it may be getting better on the whole.  However, today…

Today started out wonderfully – I got to spend a fantastic afternoon with June, exploring around the city and having a sort of impromptu tea at a tea house neither of us had been to before.  Amazing, right?

Then I came home, attempted to take a nap (failed, but got to lay down for a bit), then went to a meeting of our dual-household LLC.  And everything crashed.

That dream of a household all together in a house we own – yeah, one of the things I’ve been planning my future around – may not happen.  A number of people can’t see it happening, and the group is splitting apart.  When is brutally painful.  And I had to watch it fall down around my ears.

If the group can manage to recombine in one of the houses in the meantime it would mean losing the cat here that I have developed a close connection with, and I just can’t even.  There’s been some times that cat has been the only thing holding me together – the fact that I don’t want him to hurt and that I want to make him comfortable, happy, and spoiled in his old age.  He means the world to me.  I don’t know if I can make the sacrifice to leave him.  He matters to me.  Quite a lot.  At that point I was mentally out of the meeting – it was more than I could handle.
So we went home and we get grumped at for the dog being left outside.  Which I didn’t know about, and I said as much.  Which was apparently worth yelling at me about.  And being yelled at is a hard limit for me, especially when I’m already hurting.  So I left.

So now I’m at Applebees, don’t really feel emotionally safe going home – wherever home is.  I thought it was here.  But it certainly isn’t if you take my kitty away from me because I don’t technically own him.  Or yell at me for not giving 100% of my shits about the dog – as much as he is an adorable creature and is definitely worth care, I can’t give fucks I don’t have.  Fuck deficits are too fucking complicated.

Home isn’t my parents’ place, the place I grew up anymore.  It hasn’t been for a long time.

It isn’t any of my partners’ places, for various and sundry reasons, none of which is my relationship with them or with my metas, but more to do with time.

It isn’t the other house – probably because I don’t have as much invested there emotionally.

And right now, at the place where all my stuff is, where Trydaen is, where I have history, where I have emotional attachments, I am wondering whether I can be safe emotionally when one of my roommates is there.

This roommate refuses to acknowledge that his socialized gender does have an impact on how much his yelling will affect people (or that it will impact others, period), will never apologize for doing so, refuses to do his share of the work, refuses to acknowledge the work done by others, and seems to care more about the dog than about the people living with him (sometimes including his own partner, Butterfly).