And, I'm back!

So after a very broke and rainy few weeks in Charleston where I had no friends, lived at the public library, and ate potted meat for every meal for 4 days straight (how the heck did I even do that?) I came to visit VA for 3 days.



And I didn't go back.



Not my choice. I got home to a zoo of people at my moms house, which was already weird due to the fact that my mom is a loner and has no friends. They stayed up all night, kept me up, caused me to leave my moms and escape to the boyfriend's at 3am just to go to sleep. Moral of the story is, at some point that night, my mom lost her mind. Literally.



I came home the next day hungover, sleepy, and starving. Over a huge plate of bacon, my mom dropped the bomb. I couldn't go back to SC. Period. She was going to check into the Psych ward a la nervous breakdown 2009. Did NOT see that one coming. So after 3 weeks, my dream died in 5 minutes. I had to quit my job, break my lease, and kiss the tiny hint of tan I had goodbye. I moped for about a week, drank for about a week, and now I'm remembering how much I hate small town living. I feel like I failed. And it wasn't even my choice. After moving costs, apartment stuff, and moving back costs, my mom literally threw away thousands of dollars. She's out of the nut house, super happy and loving life due to the killer meds they gave her. And I'm miserable. I'm pretty sure I became the mom in this relationship and that makes me just wanna rage kick everything in my path.