Monday, January 10, 2005

Everyone needs to vent some times...

To all my fellow readers:
I regret to inform you that I will not have all of the pictures done for Monday. You’re just going to have to give me a few more weeks, as it is that I am in the midst of trying not to have a nervous break-down. Fear not, for I will stay in the game and hope to come out with a good grade.


Hmm…where to start?
Okay, so as I’ve mentioned before, my Mother is a “hypochondriac/Munchausen” psycho…or at least she is very close to such a label. She has always been this way. Smokey Smurf can back testify to that.

Well, last year was HELL.
(How does your psycho mother fit into this, you ask? …hold on I’m getting to that!)

At the first of the year we had a “friend” and his (we only found out later that she was…) Pregnant girlfriend staying with us for what was supposed to be just a few weeks. Yeah…
Well, about a “few of weeks” into it, my husband’s place of work got shut down. SHUT DOWN!
More good news, right?!
…and I found a lump in my breast (thank God the mamo-smash-your-titty-gram found only fat build up…which is normal as you age)

It took Rogue Wit until that summer to get another job and I was in school full time and cleaned (still clean) houses for extra money. He in this time managed to get some work here and there but nothing substantial.
During this I became very disgruntled (as you can imagine) with everybody. Especially my husband and our “friend’s” pregnant/not-working either girlfriend.

Thank God we had just gotten our tax return in before his place of employment (Radio Shack servicing—Bastards!) was shut down. [Cut backs, I believe they call it…whatever, just as long as they can sleep at night]

No…I’m not bitter or anything.

Then my husband gets a job [finally…after I was about to fend for my and my children’s selves] and our “friends” move out. Good.

But what’s this, we must have “SUCKER” [in HUGE fucking capitals] written all over our faces because; we offer our spare (under construction) room to another “friend.”
Whom, might I add, didn’t have a job either!

(SIGH)

{I do have to add that some other shit happened in this time period but, it has been worked out amongst those who needed to work it out and I’m not going to mention or worry about it anymore…just know that I was in the middle of something I didn’t want to be in and it SUCKED and added even more stress in what was once a nice and boring life.}

Well, now during the summer they found some cancer on my father. Thankfully they were able to remove it all but, I’ve just built up a good relationship with him and it was a major shock. I didn't want to loose him...not now, not ever!

Then my Grandmother breaks her ankle and has a heart attack. (Which I posted about…way too fucking much, sorry guys and thanks for all the support.)


Thankfully we were able to bring her down here where there are several of us who are either nurses or nurses-aids. I’m glad she’s here.

Yet, wait…there’s more!

It had to have been early November I believe, my Mother (you know the psycho/Munchausen/bitch) developed 2 huge bleeding ulcers and had a heart-attack. My nephew found her in the bathroom seizing on the floor with “black-coffee-ground” vomit everywhere. That is a major sign of internal bleeding…a bad sign…a sign that it has been going on for a while.
You see my mother is an RN. Yes, a registered (fucking) nurse and she should have been privy to the signs and symptoms. In fact I know she knew…she had too have.

First off she had earlier this year had a stint put in her right axiliary artery and was told to quit smoking then. Yeah right…my mom smoked through every one of her 7 pregnancies and only miscarried once before me and after me (as a matter of fact I had a twin that didn’t make it…I ate him…in the womb..sick huh). If that’s not bad enough she smokes those Misty-menthol-lights 120’s, I like to call them "cancer in one drag" cigarettes.

Before I got pregnant with my daughter I was smoking two packs of Marlboro menthols a day but, I quit…not for me but for my daughter.

Anyway, I got a call from my older sister (whom like my mom is a mega-kamaya-maya bitch) and she told me what happened and that she’d just called the EMS. She didn’t have to ask, I told her I’d be right over.
I was…as a matter of fact I got there before the ambulance left.

She almost died that morning.

You see, we have to wonder if she was trying to kill herself as she is a nurse and knows the precautions to take for her health.
She was already on a blood thinner (which can make an ulcer an ugly thing…bleed you to death in a couple of days it can) and she was taking ibuprophen like it was candy (for her “pain”…something she has advised me against in the past because “Devona, it can cause ulcers and you already have problems with that and you don't want to have a bleeding ucler on your hands.”) and the icing on the cake was…she was taking aspirin a couple times a day…!!!
What the fuck for…aspirin is another blood thinner and there is no fucking reason to take two especially if she’s……………………

*BREATH*

Okay, I’m alright now. Really.

Then my older brother and my older sister (who by the way have a different dad…which apparently makes us less of a family even though their dad dislocated our mother’s shoulder in front of them and was/is a raging alcoholic) invite “their” dad to “our” Thanks Giving! And then they have the gall, the freakin’ gall to have him sit on the couch with them and my mother (whom he abused!) for “family photos.”


I turned off my fucking camera! Damn straight.


So “their” dad can come around but, “ours” (Smokey Smurf’s and Crack-Head’s and my) dad can’t?!


I see how it is. No really, some how, Smokey and I are the “black sheep” even though we’re trying to make it on our own and are doing a pretty damn good job. It’s always been this way.


What I don’t understand is that Crack-Head can be who he is and they treat him as part of the family even though, well, HE’S A FUCKING CRACK-HEAD, ALCOHOLIC, SATANIST! (No folks...you can't make this shit up) Now you tell me I don’t have a right to be a little pissed off?!


So, during all of this “Utter Crap” Rogue Wit’s blood pressure soars… like 200/100 (stroke levels) and the doctor notices that I have anxiety problems. Ya think?


I still do and I see him again tomorrow because…
1) I am still not sleeping.
2) I am crying more and more through-out the day.
3) I go from sweet to killer bitch in a matter of seconds.
4) I am having hot flashes like a Mo-Fo!


I just can’t take this anymore…and it’s starting to affect my children…and I can’t have that. I can’t. They’re my babies!
Does anyone have a magic wand? I could use a couple of waves right now.