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.
Today I left the house for the first time since I had to euthanize my dog. I wouldn’t have left the house today if my dad hadn’t refuse to go to the store for me again. He said I had to go outside. I don’t know why. If I didn’t need food I wouldn’t have.
My sister hasn’t called or texted since we lost Pookie. She’s always there for me. Lol My mother was never an animal person either. Neither of them could ever understand my father and me getting upset over an animal or taking such an interest in all animals. How they survive, breed, their environment, all of it. Veterinarians would call my dad and ask him questions about birds. He had to go to one Vets house to separate his male and female pheasants for him because he didn’t know. I’m proud of him for that. For a man with only an 8th grade education and an alcoholic who has been sober for 32 years.
My dad is as depressed as I am. He doesn’t want to do dialysis anymore. They hurt him every time he goes. He has to stay a half hour extra with a clamp on his fistula because it won’t stop bleeding. I told him it’s because they’re doing it wrong and possibly infiltrating him every time. He doesn’t say anything. We are bringing each other down. I don’t want this. I want him to live. I love him so much for sticking by me when everyone else told him not to. He never gave up on me. Since my mom passed away he’s given up on a lot. It’s been 7 years and he still hasn’t found any peace. Deep down I think he wants to be with her. I can’t blame him. I’m being selfish because I don’t want to be left alone.
Sometimes I have no idea what I’m doing or feeling. I get consumed by the smallest things. It’s always been people, places, and things with me. I’m like a dog with a bone on some topics. I know this is annoying to others. To me it’s a way of coping.
I loathe the way the media portrays the mentally ill or anyone with mental health issues. Lately this is all you see on the big news networks. To stockpile all of us into the same group causes more stigma, shame, misinformation, isolation and the system to fail even more than it does now. We are not all monsters to be shunned and locked away.
The healthcare system plays a big part in the lives of the mentally ill. Resources are limited and stigma is also a big factor. Research shows it negatively impacts a person’s desire to get help. They are less likely to divulge their mental health condition.
In around 50% of cases Mental Health and Addiction begin by age 14. About 75% present symptoms by age 24. And still the System fails. I can’t hold a press conference about it but others can contributing to the misinformation and stigma.
On a different note. Making friends. Or keeping friends. I have one that I have to cut loose. She calls once in awhile. It always starts the same. ” I’ve missed you! How have you been? I’ve been worried!” Then it goes to ” Can I borrow $200?” or ” Do you have some Adderall I can have?”. Today I told her if she was that desperate to go a town near us and a certain bar and buy some coke. She didn’t catch the sarcasm. She just said “Why do you know anyone?” I wanted to scream at that point and accidentally send her to the cop bar that’s near the other bar. I didn’t.
I’m scheduled for my biopsy next Friday. My dad has dialysis and can’t take me so I asked my sister. She said she couldn’t because she has plans with her friends. So now my dad is taking me early before dialysis and just dropping me off. I’ll be alone. They have to put me under and it’s a risky procedure. They have to replace the stents keeping my kidneys working too. I’ll be alone when I wake up and have a tendency to cry after anesthesia but I have no choice. So today I just laughed at the ridiculousness of it all and ate 2 gluten free chocolate toffee cupcakes.
I think I’m being selfish or self-absorbed lately. All I can focus on is the lack of response I’ve gotten concerning my health. Yes my sister was there for me while I was in the hospital, my best friend visited me in the hospital and so did my sister-in-law. Since then there really hasn’t been much contact from anyone. My brother never called, my Aunt who I am close to never called, no other family has called. Forget Facebook friends, there was no response there either. My hair dresser never contacted me and we are supposedly close. We’ve gone to dinner, exchanged gifts, I was invited to her baby shower and nothing.
I know I feel things at a deeper level. When my feelings are hurt they are hurt twice as bad as someone without Bipolar. I will overthink everything until I’m literally sick. So in my head it’s “no one cares”, “I annoy everyone so they don’t want to hear it”, “I don’t deserve anyone’s sympathy or understanding”, “who cares if I die I deserve to”. This goes round and round. My meds are probably not being metabolized correctly because of my kidneys. This makes things worse. I’m actually scared for once.
The seriousness of my situation is being downplayed. My family doesn’t realize how bad it is. My dad does but it frightens him so he won’t talk about it. My sister refuses to accept that there is anything seriously wrong. I would think my going into Acute Renal Failure for no reason and being asked about a DNR about ten times would indicate otherwise. Also the fact I’m being sent to an Oncologist and having a biopsy done because there are only a few reasons why what happened to me did. None of them are good. I’m stressed beyond my capacity. I just want answers so I can plan what to do. I can’t make people care or respond in ways they are not capable of doing. I won’t beg.
I guess I’m not doing as well as I thought I was. I’ve lost 10 pounds in the last week. Pounds I can’t afford to lose. The change in meds is part of it and I just don’t feel like eating. I am sad, nostalgic, and crying often. I said I would do a friend’s hair not because I want to but because I really don’t have any friends. I’m not sure I have the physical strength to do it. But I am afraid to say no. I’m in a cycle of wanting to do things but NOT wanting to do things. Makes no sense.