I'm a little worn out by the party we've been having since 8 PM, December 31st. It is now 2 AM, January 1st. Nearly everyone here is shitfaced, and I don't know the people who aren't. There's two random dudes who came out of nowhere (one brought his girlfriend), and there's another really short, really annoying guy who reminds me of IR. Apparently he called S a skank a few days ago.

Moving on, I figured I'd go with this overwhelming desire to be alone and write about the single worst experience I think I've ever had.

I ruined Christmas.

On December 23rd, I drove my old Nissan all the way home to Georgia to spend the holiday with my mom and brother, and to give him the car.

I was in a merry mood for the entire trip, but when I pulled into the driveway it kind of just melted away.

The house I grew up in isn't what you'd call a nice place. On the outside, the house and yard look badly cared for, but the problem is manageable. My brother greeted me at the door.

He probably weighs 280 pounds. He's put on a lot since I last saw him. He's never been at all aware of his looks. He doesn't really care about much but wrestling and video games.

I went inside the house and was immediately assaulted by the smell of...dirty house. My mom had used Christmas scented candles to freshen the air, but she only succeeded in making the house smell not only like mustiness and animal waste, but also like cinnamon and pine trees. It was painful.

I put my things down in my old bedroom, which was pristine apart from a few cobwebs.

I went into the kitchen after that. It was horrifying. There was dirt and old food everywhere. I knew I couldn't eat in it unless I cleaned it up, so I spent two and a half hours making a slight dent in the kitchen's wretched conditions.

Here is a list of some of the things I saw in the kitchen that made me want to cry or kill myself or my mom and brother or all three:

1. Counter covered in mystery powdered substance and dirt which had, near the wall, grown lots of green mold.
2. Other counter covered in a musty old towel and a bunch of 'drying' dishes, behind all of which resided more mold.
3. Cabinets encrusted with ancient food particles.
4. Garbage can area floor encrusted with mystery brown stuff and more mold, also rat poison pellets.
5. Area where cats are fed, on top of an old heater which doesn't work, had several layers of paper towels covering it, most of which had melded with the top of the heater, so I could not remove all traces of paper.
6. Behind the same heater was another mystery brown substance, which I suspect was old dog urine, dust, and pet hair that no one had bothered to clean up for a year.
7. Under the kitchen table, a cookie pan covered up a fist-sized hole in the wood of the floor.
8. The china cabinet was covered in dust, crusty stuff, sticky stuff, and parakeet feathers and discarded seed husks.

The only two things that were clean were the fridge and the microwave. All of the above, I took care of to the best of my ability. I made my brother help and made sure he knew how revolting it all was. I also made him clean up the living room floor.

The entire time I was there I refused to sit on anything but the desk chair and the kitchen table chairs (which I made my brother clean).

On Christmas, I don't know how it all started, but it did. I, or my mom, or someone, said something about how the house was dirty, and I couldn't contain myself.

"By the way," I said, "I can't come back if it's like this again."

Mom said, "Shut up."

"Well, it's true. Your house is gross."

"Shut up," she said again.

I was getting angry.

I said, "Don't tell me to shut up. Acknowledge it, and don't make me come back to this."

"If you hate it so much, why don't you call B____ and have him come get you," she said, in tears, pushing past me to go hide in her room.

I flipped out. I threw my bagel across the kitchen floor and screamed at her that I would, and that I'd never come back, and I went into my room and screamed at the top of my lungs for a good thirty seconds while trying to dial B. Fortunately he didn't answer.

She came into the room a few minutes later and tried to give me a lecture. I don't remember what we said at this point, but the last thing she said was, "This is the worst Christmas I've ever had."

And as she slammed the bedroom door, I said, "Good. Me too."

We didn't really talk much until I left. I just played World of Warcraft and tried my best to ignore them and the state they lived in.

My mom is depressed. I can see it when I look at her. I can see it in the way she keeps her house. She falls asleep on the couch all the time. She has gotten so fat she has to pull a chair up to the sink so she can sit down to wash dishes.

I don't ever want to go back, and I know I'm going to feel like it's somehow my fault when she dies from this, but I do not ever want to go back.