I recently lost both my parents. I was an only child. My mom was disabled and bedbound by Covid and I had to leave my job to take care of her, and then she died and I was so burnt out and traumatized by having to do unpaid 24/7 care on 3 hours of sleep a night for my mother whose strokes had made the woman who used to be one of my best friends quick to anger and say awful things that I know she didn't mean (but would hurt in the moment anyway) that my father reached out and invited me to come live with him and his dad/my grandpa for some downtime.
A few months in, my grandpa died. He was 94 and he'd been healthy up until he had a rapid downturn. Then my father was diagnosed with prostate cancer and died a little under a year ago too, two years to the day my mother had.
The house is in a trust, which now goes to my dad's sisters. My father's share would've otherwise gone to me, but since I was an obstacle to them selling the house as fast as possible, they wrote me out of the trust and began the process of evicting me. It's a matter of urgency for one of my aunts: she's never had an income and she notoriously cannot keep tenancy with her daughters because she's incredibly difficult, and I don't imagine she has any of the money from my grandpa's passing left anymore. There's also an added element of friction: they're heavily religiously Mormon and my mom was a college-educated latina who knew it was a cult and didn't appreciate the Curse of Ham stuff and she and my incredibly racist grandmother got into it fairly often and all my life I've kind of felt a simmering animus from them that I'm pretty sure is just leakage from that. All this to say: they have no reason to care about me, and they don't.
I'm not in the house anymore and they're gearing up to sell it (and make me pay for the legal fees incurred by the process of evicting me), but my dad lived in it for 40 years and it all mixed with his father's stuff, so I just gave up on going through his stuff and trying to get any of his valuables out and now I'm just living in my new apartment. I have no drive to do anything. I meant to start school with my inheritance but I'm not doing anything other than bedrotting and going for long walks at dangerously late hours of the night kind of hoping a car hits me. I feel like I've just been running to stay ahead of my aunts demolishing my life and I'm so tired. I'm so fucking tired. I don't feel like I've experienced a mote of true happiness since before Covid and I wish my family liked or at least respected me enough to talk to me and plan a soft landing somewhere instead of scheming to remove me from afar with no particular preference for whether I live or die lol.