Shaking.

Things are bad, but I feel relatively good about them. Or maybe I'm just numb from too much traumatic overload. Whatever it is, I feel like my fingers are raw from clawing myself up from this pit.

My mother is a liar. She never pays a penny towards her living expenses; I pay all of it. She somehow spends all the money she earns, all of the non-rent money my father gives her, and now, she dips hundreds of dollars worth in to the actual rent.

And I have to come up with the shortfalls.

I'm going ballistic. I'm going to leave her to lay in the bed she's been making. There's only so much I can take, especially when it's deliberate sabotage of my financial stability when I have little as it is.

I'm in a huge time of transition, and it feels like it's deeper and longer than I thought it would be.

Staring into the unknown, I'm shaking in my boots.