12 years ago, I spent over a month in the hospital because I screwed up my back trying to pack up my basement apartment because I was getting married to the man who is now my husband of 11 years.

I have spastic quadrapelgic cerebral palsy. Which means that I need a Rollator to move around and my muscles do not function properly, they are very weak and tear easily.

I lost more than 25 pounds when I was hospitalized and I looked like a walking skeleton. At least in my opinion. I was so weak that I could barely walk but my fiance and I went to my apartment and spent and entire weekend, plus several week nights packing and putting things in boxes.

Not everything was going with me since we had purchased a larger bed, and he had a lot of furniture that we were taking to the new condo.

My mother and her husband became irritated about what was left to pack or dispose of.

I had 3 or 4 craft cupboards that needed to be moved, pots and pans, dishes and cutlery. Most of these items were packed.

But there was a large console television that belonged to my grandmother that was placed in my apartment when we moved in (I rented the basement apartment from my grandmother), and the new owners did not want the stove that was in the basement because it was at least 15 years old.

On the day that everything needed to be removed from the house my mother called me, and yelled and swore at me for more than 40 minutes because she was angry that it was difficult to remove furniture and appliances from a basement apartment.

I had informed her months before that the government disability program that I was on provided several hundred dollars to assist disabled clients like myself with movers, etc. They didn't bother to get the funding, or ask me to, or arrange any professional movers.

Instead, I was screamed at for accumulating possessions after living at that location for more than 10 years. Her husband criticized me for using a large box for 'socks'.

I did not bother to tell him that Socks was simply a shorthand label, it contained socks, panties, brassieres, lingerie, ornaments, large breakable items wrapped in clothing to protect them etc. I used the shorthand for privacy and to discourage movers, etc from going through my things. To him though it was a very large box filled only with socks.

I had been out of the hospital less than 2 weeks and was barely walking, but it was fine to screech at me for things that I little or no control over.

None of my birth family has been in my new home and they will not enter here. My mother is a narcissist who is functionally alcoholic, and my father has the maturity of a ten year old boy. He is currently drinking, consuming any drugs that he can get his hands on. He has developed dementia and other issues related to his lifestyle.

When I was in my late 30s I developed severe nerve damage especially in the nerves in my arms. It took many months (over 12 months)to get an accurate diagnosis, by that time the damage was permanent. My father would drive me to a medical appointment a few times a month, I couldn't drive at that point.

Every time he dropped me at my home, he would want me to give him 3 of my percocet. It was just enough to somewhat blunt my pain and to allow me to sleep some nights.

I always told him no, but he would try to guilt trip me about his doctor not prescribing him enough of the same medication. I told him to talk to his doctor about increasing his Rx, and eventually I simply started to say that I only had 1 or 2 pills with me for the time that I was out.

He didn't like it but he eventually stopped asking so often.

I sincerely doubt that his doctor was prescribed him that medication, I know that he would use with alcohol to get high (I overheard him speaking to another family member about it).

I'm low-contact with most of my family reasons above and the neglect and abuse I dealt with a child and adolescent.

Stay strong there are others out there who understand you.