Or, hell, any home at this point. From the time my daughter was born she was excessively needy and demanding. I remember telling my mom when she was a toddler that she could be an only child, I a stay at home mom that spent every second with her, and it still wouldn't be enough. I have spent the last 11 of her 16 years trying to get help for her. Fighting for her even when she refused to fight for herself. It has cost me jobs and it has cost me my health. And what do I get for it? Accusations of neglect, abuse...I don't deserve to be a parent, there's no food in the house (absolutely untrue - just nothing she feels like eating), the dishes are dirty (well, darling, wash one), I won't go to the store because I'm sick and she doesn't think I'm really sick, I won't teach her how to do laundry (HA! Yeah, cause I enjoy doing her laundry so much - especially when she lets me know at 11pm that she needs her clothes washed). She writes pages and pages and pages of this junk and gives it to therapist. And the latest - she's going to call children's services because I spend all my money on cigarettes and fast food. HA! Because I spend nothing on her expensive cruelty free cosmetics and hair products, and nothing for her 9 rats. (sarcasm) My reaction? PLEASE call them. Maybe they'll believe her and take her away. She is killing me. That sounds dramatic, but it's what it feels like. My health is getting worse. My flares more frequent and worse than the ones before. I've spent 11 years sacrificing everything to help this child, yet if I had done nothing all these years the end result would be the same. She is screaming at me. Throwing things. Slamming doors so hard she shakes the house. Hitting things. F you. F that. Etc, ad nauseum. And I'm done. Absolutely done. I'm not doing anything for her - so I guess she better figure out how to do laundry. I am only speaking to her when necessary. As horrible as it may sound to some - I don't want her anymore. I don't. I really, really don't. I want her out of my house.