I’ve been feeling pretty down lately. Every time my brother stops in for a night (and thankfully it’s been less and less lately) it reminds me of how the mother I work really hard for is teaching the people in our family to treat me like crap.
David and I would have absolutely no problem between us, at least not as serious as it is now, if he would just not smoke in the house or around me. I have a serious allergy to it and the moment I smell just a touch of it I start sneezing, wheezing, the whole shootin’ match. My mom has had cancer three times and Bob has to use a breathing machine at night but do you think that stops him from smoking around them? No.
My telling him to be polite is like my asking my nails to please grow. It just doesn’t happen. The only person who has any pull is my mother. What do we do instead of telling David to stop smoking? I get a stronger dose of allergy medication and an air purifier for my room.
At this point I’d like to crawl into my bed and not come out for a while because it’s soooo bloody depressing that she won’t just tell him to stop.