Thank god. We talked for a few hours, between me explaining the shituation (unintentional spelling error, not fixing it lol) & catching up. She really feels that the situation here might be what made (ex)Hubby bail- not me, not anything either of us have control over. She said he probably just couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. Which, I’ve been so drowned by things to do, I haven’t seen any light either. She also said it sounds like he still loves me. Which I know he does…I think.
I found out my mom actually did have diabetes before she passed; it runs in the family. She was also a worse hoarder than I ever imagined, lol. I can’t believe it. My aunt said she had bags of newspapers that she was trying to move here when they first bought the house. For no reason. She said she helped out as long as she could after my mom passed, trying to take care of things for my father cuz he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing (never did)….And because I asked her to…because, really, I think I was scared to be raised by him. She said my parents had lots of problems, especially communicating. She said my mom liked him because he reminded her of her father, though her father didn’t drink. And he died in his 40’s. She said the night my mom died was the worst night of her life- pointlessly trying to suck the blood out of her respiratory failure. I am soo fucking glad I didn’t manage to see any of that. She is too. I guess my mom always talked about wanting to kill herself if she were to get sick, near the end of the road. Cuz she didn’t wanna die like that. No one does. But, when it came down to it, she couldn’t. Maybe she was the one who said she couldn’t do it because of me. Which just shows how fucked up the communication was in this family – I knew how she felt, I would’ve held her while she died peacefully. I understand. She talked to me about it when I was fucking 9, though she may not have remembered. She may have thought it was too painful for me. Which it was. I was 14, I didn’t know what to do, or what to expect. But I did try. …..Maybe she just didn’t want to put the idea in my head, period…I don’t know.
She said it sounds like my father has dementia, which is what I was afraid of. It’s hard to tell, cuz he’s always been a little weird (bad hygiene, etc), but she’s probably right. I’ve been worrying the same; just trying to take care of him. She said she’ll help me take him to the doctor’s next week, but she’s not helping him with a shower lol. Don’t blame her. I think everyone resents him, heh. She can’t imagine why the mortgage isn’t paid yet; she said she doesn’t remember my mom saying anything about refinancing, but she does remember when my mom was unemployed, which is when I think she would’ve done that, if that’s what happened. So, hopefully she can help me figure that out. She said she’ll have her sons text & call & come by to keep me company once in a while, & hopefully help out with this nightmare of a house. I found out her daughter doesn’t talk to her, not the other way around, which is what the daughter told me a long time ago. And I always thought her sons were only 10-15 years older than me…no. More like 18 & 19 years older. My favorite of the two adored my mom; and I always adored him, so I’ll be looking forward to seeing him again. And hopefully we can be more of a family now. I hope they can understand my anxieties though. She’s a tough lady; she’s helped a lot of sick & dying family. She said on her own that she knows she sometimes comes across as cold & unemotional, but she just prefers to do what she’s gotta do & cry on her own time. That’s how I used to be. “Strong”. I think that’s how I was, for the most part, until that PTSD came on. It really kicked the shit out of me. And with the stress with my father, I had a harder & harder time getting back up. She kept saying “yeah, it’s a lot” and “I would’ve come sooner”. I told her I hate to be a burden. She said we’re family. Though it hasn’t felt much like it the past many years, hopefully this is a step in the right direction.
She helped me check the attic; no bird. It must’ve flown back up. I’m sure I’ll find it someday I told her about the XMas lites, how they’re pretty much right over the spot where my mom died; when she saw them, she was like “wow, yeah, that’s pretty freaky”. I pointed out that between those things & her car issue, I felt like bad omens were everywhere for whatever reason. She thinks the XMas lites was just mom letting us know she’s around. She said she was looking for something one night & couldn’t find it; a stack of boxes she had well secured somehow fell over, revealing the very thing she was looking for. She thanked my mom, lol. Also, apparently hoarding runs in the fucking family, LOL.
Also, maybe IBS runs in the family, cuz she has it. lol. Speaking of…my stomach’s still a bit fucky, but not quite as bad. My mind is racing all over the place. I just ate a tv dinner around 6:30; that’s all I’ve eaten today, but at least there’s some veggies & protein. And it actually tasted pretty good. And I was actually hungry. So, that’s good. My intestines are still cranky though. And I’m tired, but hyper, but listless. I feel good, but not. It felt good to talk to someone in person, & talk about & with family, & reminisce about my mom. And to have someone offering help. But still here I sit, alone, overwhelmed, & longing for my (ex)Hubby to talk to. Badly. I shouldn’t say this, cuz I was gonna send him the link here instead of expl… Am I not supposed to? Should I just let him read this post when he feels like it? My heart just sank. To my fucking feet. Regardless, I shouldn’t say that I just want his arms around me…
Ugh… To. My. Fucking. Feet. I can feel it down there, heh. My body hurts from sitting all day, but I hardly have the energy to move it. I should at least do some yoga. I was planning on doing the timer thing, but I forgot about it til just now lol. Leaving this here to remind me of kind words…I gave a brief intro, not too many details, & was welcomed on the forums…
Hugs. You have been through a lot. I am sorry. Things get very difficult when someone in the family has major illness and you have to shoulder all the responsibility to take care. I am appalled by how your boyfriend left you in the midst of all this when you need him the most. I admire your strengths though taking responsibility of your father and fulfilling it to the best despite your own problems with PTSD and depression. I hope you have a good session with the therapist. Never feel alone though. We all are here to support you. You may browse the forums here and get to know people or chat on the chatrooms. You can also pm any of the listeners you like including me and we will do our best to listen to you. Welcome and take care.
I’m not too appalled, I do have compassion for his perspective…if I even really understand what that is. But maybe that compassion is underlying the independent strength I was writing about last nite. And love. I had fun talking to people last nite. I gotta set a timer though if I’m gonna do that again tonight lol.
Hm.. I was just thinking… Soooooo much shit was just dumped on me by my father when he had his stroke. My mind flipped out of control. But I tried to keep it cool; “I got this, I’ll just get organized & do what I gotta do”. 4 years later…5?! Was it 5 now?!? I don’t even fucking know, I think so… Fuck. Well, 5 years later, I don’t fucking got this, & I finally have to ask for help. Which I should’ve done. But I didn’t want to be a burden. See, part of the reason my aunt is so strong is because she has a lot of family, & friends openly offering help. And she’s made as much peace with the past as anyone who’s lived through as much loss & grief as she has can. Luckily, there’s still a strand of the female saviors of that family left. The descendants of the other strands (myself included)…are still barely linked, partially because of one senseless resentment or another. Maybe we can eventually start to fix that throughout. One thing at a time though, heh. With my anxiety, I couldn’t handle any of that.
Part of the problem why I have such trouble asking anyone for help, even (ex)Hubby, is because I don’t know who to ask, or for what. My aunt kept asking what she could do, & all I could say was “I don’t know, I’m so overwhelmed”. She talked to my father for a few minutes, just to see how he was; he didn’t realize it was her until I told him later when he asked why a nurse was here, heh.
I’ve done little else but write tonight. And smoke, cuz I think my wick’s fried. And eat a tv dinner & drink ginger ale, & do dishes, & take care of some other responsibilities. Which reminds me, I have to wash my cat puke blanket (& honestly, I made a very concerted effort to protect his “stinky” blanket & pillows, though I’ve only been sleeping with one of his pillows *sigh*)
Anyway… Yoga. Blanket. Timer. Calm the fuck down. Ok, here goes..