It’s extremely difficult to be 42 and living with your father. I have never lived on my own. Even when I was making $40,000/year and could move out, I didn’t. In the deepest darkest part of my mind I knew if I was on my own I would self-destruct. I’m annoyed that I have to ask permission about things because it isn’t my house. Technically it will be in the future but I don’t want to think about that. My dog that passed away was really more of a Therapy Dog for me. The other 2 dogs pay attention to my dad or sleep. Now that my dog is gone I’m devastated. I had seen 2 Chihuahua brothers up for adoption at a local rescue. One is long haired the other is short. Their names are Ham and Eggs. They can’t be separated. I went to check them out. The posting said that they take some time getting used to people but once they know you they are great. I sat in a little room in a submissive position with my head down. The woman opened the door and those 2 dogs ran to me and jumped in my lap like they had known me forever. I was petting them and giving them love when the woman asked said she would be back in a few minutes. They are both all black with one pat
ch of white on their chest. I normally don’t like short haired Chihuahuas but this one was incredible. If you looked at him in the right light he was actually brindle. Next thing I knew the entire staff was watching me through the window. I though I did something wrong. It was the exact opposite. I was the only person these dogs had interacted with this way and they were surprised.
My dad said no. I have done nothing but think about them since that day. I’m angry that he keeps letting his pigeons grow in numbers. He’s up to almost 300. They’re bad for his health and mine. I’ve never said a word about them not even when I had to help vaccinate all of them. This involves sticking a needle in their necks. I stuck myself a few times. I have several autoimmune diseases. But he needed me so I did it.
When it comes to allowing me this, something that would be considered therapy for me, and would help the other dogs because they have been down since Pookie’s passing, he says no. I feel like a child who had their lollipop stolen.
When I grieve it’s for a long hard time. Things are so rough right now, I just wanted something good. People tell me to just move out. It isn’t that easy for me. There’s money and I don’t want to live in housing afforded by the state. I’ve seen where my Aunt who is mentally ill has lived and it’s awful. Plus I’m scared and I love my dad. I’ll just have to suck it up.
I dislike having my blogs monitored and not posted on specific social media sites. I only write what I see as the truth. I try to be as respectful as I can without continuing my doormat behavior. What I WILL NOT DO is change myself in anyway because I happen to hit on home truths that make people uncomfortable. People have no problem making me uncomfortable without apology.
I’m barely keeping my head above water. I’m grieving, I’m extremely ill physically, and yesterday Catatonia was added to my diagnosis. I having trouble sleeping which was the only time everything shut off. Yesterday I almost said “screw it” and got another dog. But it wouldn’t be fair to my dad or the dog. There is such emptiness I don’t know what to do with it anymore.
I don’t think my good days are worth it anymore. I had 2 good days. I made jewelry, cleaned the house, talked to my best friend, and cried 1 time. Today I’m back where I was but worse. Worse because I know just yesterday wasn’t as bad, I saw a glimpse of normalcy. I hate it.
What I wish my family knew is that when they get out of control around me it effects me. When my dad is worried to the point of not eating about his medical bills for dialysis it effects me. When he’s swearing, pacing the floor, and angry at a guy he shipped a clock to, it effects me.
I feed off of other people’s emotions. So this morning while he’s having a temper tantrum I’m crying and stuttering. He yelled at me about our dog JoJo. He told me not to “hurt him” anymore. I said “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” My father has trouble hearing and I was pissed. I wasn’t even going to touch JoJo I was using the couch for balance because I had several leg cramps in the middle of the night and my legs were like jello. JoJo has a sore tooth and we don’t want to lose him like we did Pookie. I can’t handle it and neither could my dad. But I know almost as much as my dad. Who looked into Colloidal Silver? Me! And the unprocessed coconut? Me! How to stop a seizure immediately? Me! But I’m treated like a moron. Yes I’ve lost a lot of my cognitive skills. I’ve lost gray and white matter, enough to worry 2 Neurologists and my short term memory is impaired but I’m still here. Don’t ignore me. Please. When I have my bad days why can’t my dad or sister take my hand, hug me, anything. Just tell me you’ll still love me and I matter, that I’m not invisible.
I try not to do this often because there always seams to be some sort of backlash when I do. But me being who I am, never learns.
There is a video that someone put on YouTube featuring Steven Tyler singing the song Amazing at a Recovery Center. He also spent time talking to the people there in recovery. He doesn’t make a big to do about it when he does these things, he just does them. As far as I know.
There is a time during the song where you see him get emotional and he covers his face with his hands briefly. I know he was going through an emotional time then. He then looks out at the room, continues singing, and looks joyful. Maybe to have them there for support, people who understand where he’s been and where he is. Yes, I know he has money and fame but it really doesn’t buy you happiness at the end of the day when your family no longer speaks to you and the only people who do are the ones who want something. I’m not saying this is him but this does happen often. They are just people who hurt and struggle like anyone else. Although some will get pissed if their fans thought that of them. It’s ridiculous. Man up. You want to admit you are an addict/alcoholic but not human like the rest of us. I call bullshit on that. It’s why I loved watching Mr. Tyler doing his thing and not caring. He also didn’t call a press conference about it. I think it’s called humility.
In the world of the famous there is an outbreak of mental illness and addiction. They make it look easy. It’s misleading to the public around me. “You’re Bipolar? But So and So is Bipolar and you don’t act like her. She’s fine.” See what I mean? I get it often.
Mental Illness and Addiction comes in many shapes and sizes. There is no one size fits all or one cure for everyone. But I will say that nothing makes me happier than watching Steven Tyler sing.
The diurnal depression is at it’s worse now and I don’t know why. I don’t know if it’s the problems I’ve been having with my immune system and kidneys or if the medications just aren’t working.
It’s the same every morning. I have trouble physically getting out of bed. The muscles in my neck and shoulders hurt so bad it’s hard to lift my head from the pillow. I can’t stay in bed because my back and hips hurt too much from arthritis and osteoporosis. So I force myself.
I make myself eat a bowl of cereal even though I have no appetite. I drink water like I’m supposed to with my meds. The stents in the tubes going from my bladder to my kidneys cause me pain. The Urologist that was supposed to call to set up an appointment for a second opinion hasn’t called. It’s been 2 weeks. I called them and still got no response. My Hematologist called and wants to see me. That has me worried. He’s the one that is going to have answers. I tested positive twice for something called MGUS. It’s related to a specific protein in your blood. It also has to do with your white blood cell count and bone marrow. People with this usually get or have Multiple Myeloma.
This morning I was caught crying in the bathroom. My dad was in the basement and could here me. He yelled my name in his scary your in trouble voice. The one that makes the windows rattle. I could hear him throwing his tools and saying “Godamn!” repeatedly.
When I went to tell him goodnight he said “We’re going to have to sit down and talk soon”. I don’t know what he’s going to do. If he wants me to leave I have no place to go. My sister won’t put up with my crying either and I don’t want my nephews to see me like that. I won’t go to a group home. I’ll sleep in my car first.
I tried to explain what was going on. Everyone is sick of hearing it. They think I can turn it on and off at will. I try. I don’t want to live like this. I wish they knew that. I wish they knew how much it hurts.
It took a lot to do this. Things have been that bad. But sometimes you have to force yourself. When no one is listening anymore and they do not understand how close to the edge you are and the f**king parrot does the dog’s name again it’s overwhelming. You’re sweating, shaking, pale, crying, in physical pain and being told to shut up. What can you do? CREATE.
I find myself in a place that I try not to be in often. A state of anger, rage, and the past. I fought with my father today about today about the past. He screamed at me “How could we believe you when you were drunk out of your mind?”. I asked him if he really thought all that blood was from a simple fall? He asked me if I wanted him to kill the person because he’s dying anyway. I told him it didn’t matter now.
He thought I was over it. I asked him if he ever thought of why I startle so easily, why I don’t like loud men’s voices, why I cringe into myself when he starts slamming things around. He got up and went outside.
I wanted to dress up and drive by my friend’s house just to see who was there. I was frightened of what I might do if I saw she had company and again I wasn’t invited. I was afraid he would be there and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from screaming or throwing something at him. I can’t get these demons out of my head.
It isn’t just that one person. There are a few that treated me like I was nothing, useless, garbage. The things humans do and say to one another are what hurt the most. What I can’t forgive are the ones that pretend to understand and act nice but secretly have ulterior motives. I am a human being. I am not a marketing tool, punching bag, ego booster, or doormat. I feel things deeper and for a longer period of time than other people.