When you finally have the motivation to write some stuff and then you hear your mentally ill mother go into paranoid ramblings and lose all of it.

 We need some backstory here.

 It all began shortly after waking up, when I walked down the stairs to see (more correctly hear, because the TV volume was a bit too loud) my mom watching the news. The show proceeds to report about some conflict that happened in the opposite corner of the country and then plays footage of people fighting one another. The footage is louder than the presentation before it, and worried that our neighbours might hear it and wonder what the hell is going on in our house, I tell my mom to turn the volume down - I should've stopped there - because our neighbours might hear.

 She then tells me that I shouldn't care about what our neighbours think*, etc. , to which I respond that I care about my future. Big mistake.

 She doesn't bother me for half an hour after I said this, but then she proceeds to present me her fantasy world where everybody she doesn't like is corrupt or a pawn of my grandfather, said puppetmaster grandfather resorting not only to employing people across the city but also to witchcraft all in order to keep her down**.

 There's nothing I can do about it. I've been specifically avoiding telling this to my psychologist, because what's there to do, really? She could call child protection services to take me away or something, but that means losing my internet access, and you probably underestimate how much I love my internet.

 I end this post with acknowledging the fact that from now on this blog will no longer have qualms about presenting the dark stuff in my life.

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 * - If you're thinking that she made our family look like a bunch of lunatics with this attitude, you are correct.
 ** - This is what she seems to believe, as much as I wish I was making this up or exaggerating it. See where I'm coming from calling her mentally ill?