Take it off your chest...
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My father let the dog in my room when I was asleep, because he had to go to work. No problem. Normally, the dog just curls up and sleeps somewhere. But today, he decided to do just that in my bed. As I said, I was asleep and on pretty strong pain medication (that's also why I'm not in school since last June, just glad I'm not in the hospital anymore) and so I didn't notice it. I'm a classical sleep-cuddler, so I cuddled my dog, and since he's very cuddly too, it would have all been cuddles and rainbows and cute and perfect - but the dog brought visitors. I am currently covered in flea bites, really angry at my dad and a little less angry at my mom. Easy agreement: They want a dog, they get a dog, I have nothing to do with it. I'm the only person in the whole family to not like dogs, and with our last one, I had to take care of him all the time. It seems I have to do the same with this one. I can go on walks, yes, but only short ones, and I seriously can't wash and groom a traumatized shelter dog that was neutered without any kind of medication and fully awake. He trusts me more than my parents, because I spend more time with him, but seriously - I don't even want attention or something, or pity, but I'm freaking dying of cancer, and I just don't have the strength to was a dog that's raising hell as soon as he's put in a tub. And now I have fleas because my parents are too dumb to freaking care for their dog. I do everything else. I clean the house, care for my sisters ferrets and all four of the cats we adopted. I had no problem caring for the dog, too - at least the walks and the feeding and the cuddling. But I'm not their maid. I'm not their zookeeper. I'm their terminally ill child that has to get knocked out with drugs to even be able to sleep because of the pain. I basically have no life of my own any more. But that doesn't mean that I have enough energy to do all this stuff for them. For me, it's absolutely their fault that I am covered in flea bites. I can care for every single one of our animals, but I seriously can't keep a dog in a tub. It's physically impossible for me. I hope the f*cking fleas die of drinking my chemo-therapy poisoned blood, if I didn't kill them in my cleaning frenzy today.

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  • They need to get their fucking shit together. Does you're sister help you?

  • Fuck them!!!!

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