Brandon, Who Lives At Home

Is now. Years ago, just after I first made this blog I had gotten a very mean-spirited and destructive letter from my my grandma. I've kept that letter as a constant reminder of how completely clueless my family was to my internal battles of depression. That letter nearly killed me. Recently I got into a shouting match with my brother about him and his sons eating of my food and how the budget realistically and by all means technically, didn't cover 4 people it covers 2. I had discussed the issue with my therapist earlier in the day, and she said I should definitely say something about it. I warned her that I knew it wouldn't go over well. It didn't. Well along with being called selfish for suggesting they get their own food (because there is literally none in the house right now because of the addition of them) I was called a useless fat lazy slob among other things. That was maybe the first time is been called fat directly to my face in years. Several things