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11th-Jun-2015 11:01 pm - I don't know what to... Anything.
Peas in a pod.
I have the strongest urge to vomit right now.

My father broke me once already.  I was two weeks shy of 16 years old.  We were in Florida.  I found out he was a drug addict.  I sat in the parking lot of a cheap motel sitting crossed legged, knee to knee with my brother while a tropical storm pour buckets of rain on us.  Clutching his hands, crying so hard my chest and belly hurt for days while he told me about my dad's secret life I had known nothing about prior to that day.

I didn't get a period for three months, I was so fucked up.

I used to have dreams about driving a bat into his face, hearing the bones crunch.

I didn't know for the longest time whether I still loved him under all that rage.  It took me a few years to realize I had all that rage because I loved him.  I was so angry at him for choosing so poorly because I believed he was smarter than that.  Better than that.  I hated him for hating himself that much.  Because he wasn't a weak man.  He wasn't weak.

After that, I became his ashamed champion.  I love him.  I am ashamed of him, and for him.  I will be the first to say he is fucking stupid, but I will also be the first to never talk to you again if you open your mouth about him.

Fast forward to three weeks ago when my dad's neighbor called me on the phone to tell me he thought my dad had a stroke.  Yadda yadda yadda.  After a two-week stay in the hospital, he was transferred to in-patient care.  No stroke.  Fractured neck vertebrae.  Carotid artery blocked by 65%.  Whoopty fucking do.  What really concerns me, and gets my goat, is the fucking cerebellem degeneration.

This is why he slurs.  This is why his coordination and balance is blasted.  He pickled his brain and let his nourishment go so far as to fucking..  Degenerate his lower brain.

Because somewhere along the way, he turned in his drug habits for alcoholism.

So we hear this from the doctors' mouths.  We hear that these symptoms may not improve.  We hear, "You have to stop drinking."

Fast forward to 8 days ago.  My dad was transferred to an in-patient hospital facility.  I get a call a couple days later from the care coordinator there who is basically doing her job to ask if there is any family that will be able to help my dad care for himself once he is released.  There's not.  And then she goes on to tell me, in her delicate way, that my dad is a raving asshole and is making heinous accusations and claims to the staff and is basically a drug-seeking shit head.  So I call him and ask, "How's the staff?" and he goes on for twenty minutes about how most of them are fine and good except this one nurse that thinks it's a game to make him wait for his pain meds 15 minutes or more after he's allowed to have them.

I let that pandora's box sit there unopened.

Fast forward to today.  I am under the assumption that my dad will be discharged early next week.  I get a call from the same lady.  I am at a check out of a store, so I call her back momentarily.  She informs me that my dad rolled his stupid ass in a wheel chair to the sidewalk of the street in front of their facility and when they went to get him to come in, he accused them of keeping him prisoner.  Of holding him hostage.  Of detaining him so they can make more money off of him.  The boss of the facility had to come out and speak with him in order for him to go inside.

So they fucking discharged his ass.

The lady said, "He's free to leave as soon as your family member gets off work to pick him up."  We have no family in that town.

While I am on the phone with her, my dad calls.  I call him back.  He says, all chipper like, "I get to go home right now if I can find a ride.  I tried calling my neighbor but he has been drinking and doesn't want to drive."

No mention of the scene.  Like it's a stroke of fucking luck and he's so pleased at his good fortune.

"Do you think Emily might give me a ride?"

(I just learned recently that Emily, my oldest friend in the world, suffered from sexual harrassment.  FROM MY DAD.)

I find someone else to give him a ride.  His lying, fucking manipulating, terrible, disgusting, useless, hateful, fucking pathetic ass got a ride because mine and my brother's good friend answered his phone on the first ring, asked what was up, heard me ask a favor, and said, "I'll be there in an hour."

I text my friend after he drops my dad off.  He took my dad to the store on the way, which is why it took a bit longer than it should have.  I asked if the store run was for my dad.  He said yeah.  I asked if he bought alcohol.  He said he didn't see it, but he heard it clinking in the bag.


The rage is in control of my pancreas and stomach.  It is making the bile come up my throat.  It is making me want to lash out.  I am so angry.  I am so angry.


The betrayal alone.

All together...  All together it is me giving it up.  Giving him up.  I think.

I think it is.
26th-May-2015 03:59 pm - Serious shit storm.
Peas in a pod.
So it happened like I have imagined countless times, with a different ending.  My dad's neighbor called me up, and with dread in his voice, he informed me that he thought my dad had a stroke.  He had just seen him, he was incoherant and had blood all over his face.  He said my dad refused to let him call 911.

I called my dad immediately and was truthfully quite relieved that he answered the phone at all.  When he spoke, however, I got scared as shit.  He really did sound like he had a stroke and half his face wasn't working.  I could barely understand him, but I did gather that he wanted to wait for a doctor's appointment he had the next morning.  He said he fell and couldn't remember when.

Of course I lost my shit.  In my way.

I got off the phone with him and blew up my brother's phone, but he didn't answer.  I was shaking with adrenaline and worry.  I decided the best thing would be a compromise:  I wouldn't call an emergency ambulance, but I would call his local police department to do a wellness check and would let the officer decide if it was necessary to call an ambulance.

So I did that.

My brother called me back to tell me he had also just spoken with my dad who called him to try and get me to leave off.  Fat chance.  My brother agreed with me, any how.

Long story short, he went to the hospital.  (And yeah, that does truncate a very long story, trust me.)

I hopped in the car and blew down there.  I arrived nearly three hours later, found out he was in the ER still, was escorted to his room.  Where he promptly said, "I don't want to talk to you.  You wasted a trip."  And then as per protocol, the guard escorted me out.

I asked to speak with his nurse.  I was told he said not to tell me anything.  I asked to talk to her anyway, just to relay information.  I waited about 45 minutes.  She came eventually and I tried to relay that his speech was ALL WRONG and that he wasn't that wobbly usually, that he was alcoholic but he never was like he was now.  She had me wait to talk to his doctor, who eventually came another 20 minutes later.  I relayed my information and he showed me a print out that indicated a CT scan result showing that there was no stroke.  I'm pretty sure that doctor told me more than he should have, but I'm glad he did and I wont tell.

I left and crashed at my friend's who lived nearby.

In the morning, I was really really tempted to just go home.  The asshole was in the hands of professionals now, and he turned me out, so what the fuck ever.  Before leaving though, I called to see if he had been discharged from the ER, and all they could say was that he wasn't there anymore.  So I called the main hospital line and they told me he was indeed there, and his room number, and would I like to be put through?  So I said yeah.

Another long story short, my dad asked me to come.  So I did.  I spent all god damned day there, and half the next.

He has a UTI.  He has a cracked C1 vertebrae.  He has a 65% blockage of his left carotid artery, causing the dizziness that leads to falling regularly.  He had an MRI to rule out for sure that there was no stroke.  The distorted speech and wobbliness is from vitamin deficiency and alcoholism causing his cerebellum to degenerate.  No word on whether it is permanent - the nuerologist says that it depends on how long it has been going on.

They put him on antibiotics, slapped him in a neck collar, put him on aspirin to thin the blood and a medicine to try and reduce the blockage in the artery.  They gave him a shit ton of vitamins, especially thiamine, to try and treat the cerebellum degeneration.

He has been in there for six days and the doctor on rotation today, the first new one in all this time, decided that he needed to consult an orthopedic specialist about the C1 vertebrae, who said, "Oh, you better transfer him to my hospital 45 minutes away so I can take a look at him and see if it needs surgury or anything."  Which may be in my dad's best interests, sure.  But this new doctor got HELLA defensive when I asked him to explain what changed that caused a hospital transfer.  I met the first doctor, and the nuerologist, and 2 of the 4 nurses who have taken care of him up until now.  All of them have been very nice, very clear, very open about what was going on.  This doctor and the new nurse today were both very, very defensive about my questions as to why the program had changed.  Both started to defend their actions, like, "It's my job.  It's not my job to talk about other doctors.  If you have questions about your father's care, go ahead.  But I am doing my job."  And the nurse.  I was trying to say that he has a hard time putting his room phone on the hook all the way so it can ring through if someone calls, and was about to ask her to check for me because I was going to try to call him and she was in his room on her handheld phone, when she interrupted me to say "I just ordered him food from the phone and put it down and it is working properly."  Didn't let me relay that he had a hard time with anything.  GAAAAAH.  It doesn't sound like such a bitchy thing just typed out right here, but god damn.  The way she said it made me want to punch her in the fucking throat.

I am sick.  I got a chest cold and lost my voice.  I have a big ass head ache.  My child needs my attention.  I have to catch up on the work I got behind on to go to the hospital.  I don't want to deal with bullshit people who are more concerned about covering their asses than about telling me in real talk what the fuck is going on. Like, the doctor made a good call.  If he thought this dude in the different hospital needed to see my dad's vertebrae, okay.  Good.  Thank you for looking out.  But seriously, don't fucking rip my head off about you doing your job when all I needed to know was that the ortho doctor said send him.  Jesus fucking Christ.

And before this new doctor, we were told by the first one that he would most likely be discharged yesterday or today to inpatient care.  And now he's going to a different hospital for a new set of people to start this circle all over again with.  Which I don't even care about if it is what he needs.  But that means all the progress I made with communicating to this set of people wont matter.  My being at the hospital 3 hours away from home for two days wont matter.  If how these new people speak to me now, having not met me or spoken to me before, is any indication of how it will be trying to stay in the loop, I am motherfucking screwed.

And it wouldn't matter so much except NO ONE can understand my dad's slurred speech.  Except for me, apparently.  And a speech therapist I didn't meet, but who saw my dad only to make sure he could swallow ok.  Not to interpret.  So every time they try to go in and tell my dad shit, he doesn't understand them because he's half deaf, and they don't understand him when he tries to say he doesn't understand.


I just want to crawl under a rock.  And sleep.

Really.  I am at home, but I don't feel like I am at home.  I feel tightly wound, and heavy, and out of balance.  And there is no indication of when this shit will settle down.

Oh, and on the very top of it all.  A good friend of mine and my brother's died in his sleep the second night my dad was in the hospital.

10th-Mar-2015 03:59 pm - Whine.
Peas in a pod.
I just spent about an hour watching crap on Youtube.  I went to Youtube after Facebook was too boring.  I had started to feel a bit down, and antsy, and thought maybe I'd find something interesting to stop feeling ridiculous.  No, it didn't work.  The only thing I can take away from that hour is the knowledge that Lorde twitches like some epilectic vampire while singing, and some call it dancing.  And it's impressive in its uniqueness - indeed, it must be an outlier on the scale of dancing - but it isn't worth an hour.  Not to say her twitching/dancing is bad or worthy of scorn.  I'm not a goddamn bully.  But I'm not any better for having seen it.


Wesley is going to Seattle this weekend to do some recon.  Until then, we are basically sitting on our hands.  I hate this feeling.  I hate feeling static.
28th-Feb-2015 03:23 pm - Horse.
Peas in a pod.
So Em just cancelled on me.  She was supposed to be here in an hour, and it takes almost three to get here, and she just now texted that she isn't feeling it and so she'd better postpone.

The fuck.

This girl has been on my ass for months to get together, and we have made plans several times.  And every time, she is the one that blows it.  Something came up, the car is iffy, meow meow meow.  It's really upsetting.

Em is my oldest friend, so I know this sort of nonsense is just something she does.  There are cycles of ridiculous behavior like this.  It tends to fall in line with when she is feeling down - she isolates herself while crying about being lonely.  It's fucking annoying.

I get that people need their space when they are trying to process shit.  But that dude is long gone, and she is the one that made the plans, and she is the one to cancel them.  I love her, and maybe I'll email her later when I have calmed down enough to make sure she is doing okay, but as of right now - fuck it.  I am so over being second best to the memory of some stupid fucking asshole bag of dicks that treated her like shit and then walked away as easily as he pleased when she asked him to be less of a codpiece.  Put your big girl panties on and stop being such a flake.

It's a good goddamn thing I didn't tell my son that she was coming.  He loves her and if I had to explain that she just decided she didn't want to come after all, I might have had to punch her right in the vagina.

It is frankly horse shit.  That is all.
2nd-Feb-2015 12:01 am - This.
Peas in a pod.
31st-Jan-2015 01:50 pm - If you can't laugh at yourself..
Hill Valley.
So last night, I couldn't sleep.  Almost like he knew, Wesley reached over and started feeling me up.  He was doing a good job and was taking forever, so when I got tired of waiting, I did my thing and took what is taken.  Gave some, too.  Then we are laying there, still engaged and saited, with me laying across him.  We both hesitate and look at each other and he asks, "Any idea how to disengage?"  I laugh and say, "Yeah, I know how you hate changing the sheets.  Let's just roll and then you can do your thing."  So I start to roll onto my back and take him with me, not realizing that we were diagonal in the bed and there was no room for our four limbed mess.  I promptly fell, hit my head with a crack against the tile floor, and Wesley fell on top of me.

I lay there for about 5 minutes, laughing.
28th-Jan-2015 02:37 pm - Yes, please.
Peas in a pod.

This.  For just about every reason.
27th-Jan-2015 03:09 pm - Let's party.
I generally feel like I have a pretty good fortitude insofar as I don't really have emotional 'cycles'.  I tend to be pretty stable emotionally.  That being said, I find myself in a sort of..  Downward slump.

I feel isolated.  I really do.  I used to always be a bit confused when I heard that term before because it really sounds like physch talk.  Like a pretty concisely defined word for some abstract emotional state.  My mood has been glum lately and as I've searched for a reason why, as I'm not like to sit around and do nothing about it, I've realized that I am pretty fucking isolated.

Wesley is my best friend and he's here, of course, and that is really good.  I'm not sure what I'd be like internally if I didn't have that guy around.  Despite this, I still feel a terrible lack of human contact on a regular basis.  Well, adult-human-with-whom-I-have-shared-interests contact.  All of my loved friends are far, far away and we communicate solely through text.  I don't have any friends to speak of in this place.

It probably is self-isolation, honestly.  The no friends here thing is most likely my own fault.  We never wanted to stay here for this long, and so I never gave thought to how to meet new folks in this town.  Doesn't help that this place is not my kind of place, and so these people are generally not my kind of people.  But that is an assumption, and without knowing if it's right or wrong, I went ahead and didn't try anyway.

I go to work and come home with the babe, and take care of household chores and go to the grocery store.  And Target.  And that's about it.  My biggest aquaintance here is the girl that cuts my hair.  She's younger than me and alternative and I think she's really cool, but she's also really professional and I would feel a bit weird asking her to hang out.  She boyfriend-hops and is in the roommate/apartment switching stage of life, and while that isn't something to turn a nose up at or avoid, I feel like it is certainly not where I am at.  So I just chat my ass off with her when she's cutting and dying my hair and then I drive home.

I sort of embarrassed myself recently, in relation to all of this.  I'm reading a book series and contacted the authors and got into an email sort of conversation with one of them and then I went and fangirled way too hard.  She seemed pretty cool and I was too bored to check my enthusiasm and the fangirl sort of slipped out with my exuberance to chat with someone who seemed so cool.  Embarrassing.  She hasn't written back, and I don't blame her.  SIGH.  It's kind of a bummer, too, because it would have been fun to get to know someone that has truly respectable skills in a discipline I admire.  Le fuck it.

After that all fell down, I sat around feeling bored and sorry for myself for feeling so bored and I came up with this realization that I need to figure out some sort of outreach.  I really do need to find a new friend or several that I can assimilate newness from.  It's my own fault I'm this antisocial.  And while this flat-line town gives me absolutely no hope, I do have the internet.  I poked around the community lists here and I think I'll start with that.  It's too bad AIM is a thing sunk in the past, but maybe my original impression that LJ was dead wont turn out to be true.

I'm tired of feeling so bored and lonely and sorry for myself.

(I want to go back to school so badly.  I miss that environment of challenge, intelligence, and all the new faces.  Plus, I miss swing dancing so hard, and all my memories of it are interlaced with being a college student.)

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