So this Is what I call "Home"

I'll try to explain what I'm feeling right now. While it may seem like I can enjoy things like I used to, that's far from the truth.

What does it mean to live my day-to-day life? Let me be brutally honest:

I'm a Chemical Engineering student, and I live at least two and a half hours away from campus. I have to wake up at 5 a.m., get ready, prepare myself, pray 2 Rakaah before leaving, and then take the bus at 5:30 a.m. to the train station. From there, I take one train to a certain stop, switch to another train that goes to the city where my university is, and arrive at around 7:45 a.m. to start classes at 8:00 a.m.

Depending on the day, I have double lectures, so I have to bring food since I don’t have the time or capacity to work because of the travel and study hours. Luckily, my mother helps a bit—it’s not much, but it's something.

Mondays, I have three continuous hours of Inorganic Chemistry, followed by a short break and then English class. Tuesdays, Thermodynamics. Wednesdays, Lab. Thursdays, English and Thermodynamics again. Fridays, more Inorganic Chemistry. I usually get home around 6 to 8 p.m. every day. Do I love my career? Yes, I do. But life is tearing me apart from so many angles that I'm starting to stumble academically.

So what’s the real issue, beyond the emotional part—which some of you already know?

Let me start detailing the reality I’ve been living for almost ten years now.

When I turned 18, being the youngest of four siblings, our mother left the house to live with our stepfather. I fully supported that decision—she deserved it.

But here’s what happened: two of my brothers (not counting my older sister) have always been absurdly irresponsible. So when our mother left, I became her replacement. What does that do to a person's mind? A lot. Let me tell you what I have to live with.

I mentioned earlier that I have to cook for myself every time I go to study—I do that the night before, even if I get home late. But what do I have to deal with when I cook? At the very least, I have to clean, degrease, organize, and mop the entire kitchen for at least 30 minutes to an hour just so I can cook for 20 minutes. Luckily, I know how to cook quickly. Still, I always have to unclog the sink filled with grease, clean greasy cutlery, and remove food scraps like rice that clog the drain—all because my brother dumps food there. Dirty pots, everything. I open the fridge and find half-rotten vegetables, expired food, even dirty plates and cutlery stored inside. If I don’t take them out, no one will.

Sometimes my brother starts cooking before me. What does he do when he's done? He leaves everything a mess and says, “If you want me to clean, wait until I finish eating”—even though I have very little time left before I need to sleep.

What about the bathroom? Same as the kitchen. If I don’t change the trash bags, they pile up. If I don’t clean, there’s rotten food in the kitchen or ***-stained paper in the bathroom. Yes. My brother, being a conflictive idiot with everyone in his life, tries to fill the void with animals. So I also have to deal with the mess of three dogs that he barely takes care of, even though he loves to say he's an animal lover. It's pathetic how he treats them. Of course, we have to spend some of our money to feed those dogs, which forces me to lower the quality of my diet because he won’t take full responsibility for them—or for his girlfriend, who has been “occupying” the house for years. What does she do? Absolutely nothing. She’s another source of filth and laziness. I even have to deal with bloodstains in the bathroom from her period.

To make matters worse, since the dogs aren’t trained, they *** and *** anywhere. Who has to clean it up? Me. Who even has to clean the cleaning tools because, for my brothers, a rag is a one-time-use item? Me.

You might ask: “Why don’t you talk to them?” They're over 30 years old. One of them does absolutely nothing because of severe chronic depression. He’s another source of mess and weight on my shoulders. The other one? Any small complaint turns into a conflict. He’s a 32-year-old child.

How bad is his aggression? Here’s an example—one of the old ones: since utensils always go missing in this house, I kept one fork in my room for personal use. He didn’t want to dig through the mess in his room to find one, so he started kicking my door. I locked it to make him stop. He broke the door down and got aggressive with me—over a single fork. He wanted to strangle me.

This is one of the lighter things I’m telling you. I don’t want to mention anything more serious because it could be a trigger for some people. But this is my reality: every time I cross that front door, I smell urine in the air, and filth everywhere. Over the years, I’ve slowly lost strength, time, and sanity fighting against the filth that tries to consume the house. And now I can honestly say: I’ve lost. I no longer have that strength, and since then, everything has only gotten worse.

If I clean, they get used to it. If I don’t, I can’t do basic things. When I do clean and leave everything spotless, it’s dirty again just hours later. I’m not exaggerating. Tell me, how would you feel if you spent two hours cleaning just to see it even filthier the next day? And this happens over and over and over again.

I'm trapped. If I want to keep pursuing my degree without delays, I have to keep living in this filth for more years—with no money, no job, but technically lacking “nothing.”

Family? They see my effort. They love me. Do they help me? No.

I’ll have to put my studies aside just to stop hearing the fights between a 32-year-old man and his girlfriend. The barking and whining of anxious dogs with no training or purpose. And even though I love my sister, I also have to deal with tasks every week that her useless husband can’t handle—sometimes even acting like a father to my own nephews.

In the middle of all this, I still go to the gym, I study, I’m trying to process the fact that the only person I ever dared to open up to completely shattered me. I’ve lost money and time in business attempts just to try and escape this house while still studying. I failed to get into a nuclear engineering program—my dream—and had to resign myself to putting that goal on hold. I struggle with sleep due to the constant noise my brother makes at night. And, as the cherry on top, sometimes he hogs the bathroom for hours, delaying me from leaving for university—because of his horrible diet and the fact that he plays mobile games while in there.

He's a drug addict, a pathological liar, violent, misogynistic, manipulative, emotionally stunted man who projects all his issues onto others. My other brother is a chronically depressed man with no responsibilities. I get along with him, yes, but if I don’t even go with him to pick up his medication, he’ll just go without it—and of course, he doesn't help with anything either.

Honestly, now that I put it into words, I ask myself: how the *** am I still alive?. 

I can't even sit and study in peace in this house anymore even though it's quiet sometimes, like today, it's so horrible in this environment that it brings out the worst in me.

@Creamyyy here my update ^-^!

idk if you boost this. 

@jesusredeemedme2425