buried alive

I'm stuck in my parents' apartment because my soul needs me to yell at my
parents.

Eternally shoved back into my father's place like a turd back up his ass.
Herded over and over again back to my parents' apartment like a circus
animal back into its pen.

And my business is failing so I can't afford to move out. And my disability
worker is ignoring my phone calls asking him to mail me a package of
information about moving out. And who knows what else. Because, as one of my
voices put it, "You and your parents still have s*** to work out."

No, Mr. Voice. Our SOULS have s*** to work out and are making our lives
miserable in order to use us to work them out.

And that is absolutely not right.

I'm very tempted to go to the homeless shelter right now with nothing except
the clothes on my back. Just get the hell out of here and get on with my
life. Because THEY HAVE NO RIGHT TO DO THIS TO US. None of us. Not my
family. Not me. Not you.

Miki