I’ve been focusing on a few of my problems and thus far, only one has been solved… partially. The problems are as follows: Confront my brother-in-law and admit and discuss our problems, and how we can better ourselves. I admitted my flaws, but I couldn’t bring myself to confront my brother-in-law on his due to my fear of the problems becoming physical. The other problem is a doozy. Making the most of what little space we have in this rat’s nest we call an apartment. The problem doesn’t lay within the boundaries of moving furniture around, it lays within getting the approval of my mother to do so. She says nobody moves anything around except my sister, or else she calls the police. Well hot damn! No wonder this shithole looks the way it does. I tried time and time again, but alas, I couldn’t really make any progress without threats from my mother. That, me living in the living room, and the landlord making false promises about a bigger apartment are setting me over the edge. I honestly don’t know what to do anymore when I get up out of bed. It’s getting to the point where playing games are not soothing the seething pain I endure day in and day out. Not that I make it any better. Hopefully that landlord, who dresses like an 1980’s druglord, makes good on his promise.