Something's Not Right

Add sweatpants and boots
and this is what I'm talking about

I was dealing with some serious family drama this week.  Seriously.  So I'm going to write about it because it will make me feel better.  It always does.

I'm pretty sure that my adoptive father has OCD.  Naturally I'm not a professional so maybe it's something else.  But there's something not right going on.  My dad has always been clean.  But lately it's been kicked up to a whole new level of insanity, ever since my mom got sick.  Before, he'd deal with the mess.  My mom isn't the most organized person and there were times when we'd have stacks of paper in the kitchen, the laundry would be piled up, and don't even get my started on the guest bedroom (the door was always shut that's how bad it was).  However, my mom no longer handles the bills (so no more stacks of paper), the laundry gets put away the same day its done (it's a good system), and my dad has cleaned out the guest bedroom.  She used to do her arts and crafts in there and she can't do those things anymore so there's no chance for her to mess it up again.

My dad has gone through each and every room in the house.  In each room, he's dusted every item.  He's vacuumed twice.  He's scrubbed the floor with a new favorite cleaning product.  He's moved around the furniture and gone so far as to buy new (cleaner) furniture for almost each room.  All the windows have been scrubbed.  He dusted every fan, as well as polished the wood on the beams in the room with the cathedral ceiling.  Spare sheets have been washed.  Everything is neat and organized.  He's got the basement left.  That's it.  The rest of the house (including my bedroom) he's already cleaned.  It's weird.  It's like he HAS to do it.  He's also manicured the lawn outside to the point where if it's not raining, he's usually in the yard.  That outlet is gone now that the winter is here.

I honestly didn't think much of it.  I knew it was an escape for him, and I figured that if it made him happy, then he should just do it.  Beside, what's wrong with a clean house?  It didn't bother me, it certainly didn't bother my mother, and whatever, we move on.  And then this week happened.

I made a mess in the basement.  I own up to that 100%.  I forgot to fold a blanket I was using and I left a jacket down there.  I had moved some furniture so I could do my yoga and hadn't moved it back because I've been doing yoga everyday.  I figured it's the basement and I'm really the only one who's been going down there.  And I left a food wrapper.  Which really wasn't good.  My bad.

Not only was I yelled at for a good ten minutes, but Rudy (who had nothing to do with the mess) was brought into it.  Then he went after my bedroom.  Apparently two sweatpants and a pair of boots constitutes a pig sty and I needed to grow up and keep my room clean.  To which my response was, it's my room and if it bothers you, don't go in there.  Apparently that's the wrong thing to say.  This is why I seriously think he's got some sort of mental disorder.  A normal rational person would not have flipped out on me the way that he did.  He even followed me to my room later in the night to yell at me some more.  He couldn't handle the things on the floor.  My room is super neat and clean right now.  Two sweatpants and a pair of boots (that my sister had borrowed and returned after I left for work and therefore I had no knowledge of) were enough to set him off.

I'm one of the cleanest people I know.  The sweatpants and boots were not hurting anyone.  They did not impose on anyone's safety.  They weren't affecting the rest of the family in anyway.  The reason my door was open was because I don't have heat in my room and it's freezing in there if I keep the door shut.  I wish I was joking.

I was told that my room isn't really mine.  That it's his house and therefore I need to abide by his rules.  And that means nothing on the floor (keep in mind that these items were far from the door and therefore nothing my mother could have tripped on -- that I could have understood). I was told that I don't have the right to any privacy in the house because it's a family house and therefore we share things as a family.

This whole living at home thing at 24 is new to me.  I'd rather be in an apartment on my own.  I've gone to look at apartments.  But I owed upwards of $80,000 in student loans.  I'd like to pay some of them off before I have to pay serious rent.  I've got it down to $70,000 after working my butt off this summer and I hope to have it down to $65,000 by the new year.  I'm determined.  I do know that after five years of having my own space, I need one room in the house to call my own.

I'm asking my dad for an agreement between us (written).  I'll pay him $300 a month (what he keeps telling everyone I should be paying him to live at home) and in return for that he 1) does not enter my room without my permission 2) does not comment on the status of my room unless it affects someone else in the house with the door closed and 3) I get the cable I've been asking for for six months.  I think that's fair.  In case that doesn't work out, I've been looking at apartments but I'll have to pay at least $1000 a month in rent, and while that's not super bad, I don't really have that money right now to furnish an apartment and I'd like to stay at home to help with my mom.

This is my life.  I need a vacation from the hell hole that I'm living in.  Is it December 9th yet?