Barely breathing

This sinus thing is kicking my ass. With the humidity and all the crying, I have no voice, can barely draw in air, and when I do, I start choking on drainage. (I’m gonna create a dating profile and put that in there, I will be the hell’s belle of the ball.) It’s been further agitated by having to repeat myself three or four times because my voice keeps falling out and my throat is sore and I am surrounded by assholes too stupid to read so I have to humor them by squawking out a reply repeatedly. Up to me, I’d put a chalkboard on a string around my neck and just write everything out.

Making me even more pleasant was the arrival of shark week, which just goes to show- I knew it was coming the instant I started seeping tears like a geyser erupting. Maybe I still am dead inside and it was all hormonal.

Unlikely. All day yesterday I kept looking around at the usual places expecting to see Abby and Arsenic. Not once or twice.All.damned.day. Like my brain just can’t accept that they aren’t coming back. Miserable. There is a gaping hole in my soul that nothing is patching up. I hadn’t realized how attached to them I had become because well all those months I could barely connect with anything…It was a ninja attachment, I didn’t see it coming. I keep reminding myself they are in a far better place than I am. I want to be there with them, as ridiculous as that may sound.

Alas there are reasons for this other than general depression and pessimism.

My dad called last night and I told him about Abby and Arsenic. His response: “Oh, yeah? Don’t know what to tell you.” And I just muttered, “Ya know, it’s basic courtesy to say you’re sorry when someone has a loss in the family.” And this dickheadassfuckeryking snorts, “Oh, yeah, is it? What do you want me to say?”

HELLLOOOOOOO? aRE YOU FUCKING BRAINDEAD OR IS YOUR HEAD JUST THAT FAR UP YOUR ASS YOUR EARS CAN’T HEAR?????

When their pets have died, we were all supposed to grieve. Yet this is his reciprocation. No idea how many times I have yearned to find out the hospital sent me home with the wrong family. But hell, this time, even my evil mom was kind hearted. Maybe my dad is just senile. No…He’s just always been an insensitive asshole and I’ve always cut him a little slack cos of his upbringing at the hands of an adopted abusive father and his “women are here to serve men and not be heard” mother.

At some point you gotta stop using that as an excuse and admit that you never grew up enough to choose a better way for yourself than that which seeped in through upbringing. He chooses to be an ass, much like my grandmother chose to stay with a man who beat her kids. Yeah, Grandpa never hit her, only the two kids who weren’t his by blood. Never have forgiven her for allowing it.

So it fucked my dad up and then he twisted me and my sister. And much as he dotes on our half brother, cos ya know, a penis makes you the golden child…Lately dad’s even been screaming at him and popping off with insults like “dumbass”. Welcome to our world, little brother.

I am test driving an Android phone that R finally agreed to upgrade me to after five years of promises. Only because I found it on sale for ten bucks. The cheapest plan is $35 a month which no more than I use a phone, I am probably not gonna keep this damned thing. For all its nifty features, mostly it annoys me. My fingers are too fat for the touch screen pad and it takes ten times longer to type anything out. I can barely hear the speaker to utilize the youtube feature. The ringtones are shit. Yep. Unimpressed. I think the safelink flip phone is gonna be the winner, it has some cool features. Shit ringtones but nothing is perfect. I just don’t get the Smartphone worship. I want to do all that shit, I’ll come home and use one of my five computers ffs. (Yeah, don’t get any ideas about oooh, she’s worthy of robbing, cos my shit’s so old most of it runs on XP and I looove XP but still…very old second hand shit so not rich, just fortunate to find freebies and deals over the years.)

It saddens me to phase out my old flip phone. It has a dozen awesome ring tones, a cool skin I shelled out good money for…But cool ringtones just aren’t balancing out with it being so outdated and costing more than its worth. I am gonna keep it as an alarm clock, though. MUch rather wake up to Rob Zombie’s “Sick Bubblegum” than some generic elevator music tone.

I’m rambling…Probably because I just took the meds and have my hypomanic buzz for a few more minutes. I have no clean dishes left. Laundry is clean but needs folded. My sister fixed my vacuum so I should really go cleaning nazi with it…I feel so exhausted and drained, though on every level. I forgot how much is taps you out to spend days crying. Now I have all this on line shit and reading programs for my kid’s school I have to register for and keep track of. Not my strong suit. I still owe several people a thank you note from the Abby campaign. Not rude, just overwhelmed. And even in the midst of that, I am so passionate about what happened to my cats, I started that petition, one more thing to keep track of.

With any luck, if I can survive the next couple of heat stroke inducing days, it is gonna start cooling off and soon fall will arrive and the depression will deepen but the anxiety will die down a bit. Halloween will come and I will have a brief respite before the family gathering Hellidays start up…Argh…Last family shindig was Father’s day when stepmonster accidentally scraped Spook’s arm with her watchband and my kid went screaming to my mother about being abused and then it was steel cage match verbal rapid fire and everyone fled. Yep, therapists, it is indeed a mystery why the nearing of Thanksgiving and Christmas stress me out and make me physically ill.

I don’t even know where to start around here. The instant I try, then my kid is going to suddenly need attention NOW and if I don’t bow down she will have a screaming mimi. She can ignore me because she has other interests. I am not allowed the same, I am supposed to drop all and tend to her needs. I’m starting to think she has some male dna in her. (joke, guys, don’t tar and feather me.)

I’m joking again. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad. The fact I keep looking for Abby and Arsenic around the house shows I’ve not quite wrapped my mind around their loss. But joking around, is it coping mechanism or being callous? I don’t have a clue.

Oh. It’s come to my attention, and I did not know this when I let Spook bring Feet home, that he is not neutered. I have three girls not fixed. This is a bad thing and yet the cheapest neutering program is like seventy bucks and they only do it every other month. My sister normally has all her cats fixed at four months but I guess this was a stray she rescued so she hadn’t had it done yet. So on top  of being behind on the power bill because the state shut off the cooling assistance this year, Christmas coming up, the sticker on my car due right after Christmas, and now four cats to get fixed…

It is a mystery indeed why I am so high strung, pessimist, and cynical. But the thing is, for all I have been berated this week for not working and not having money…I see lots of people working two, three jobs and still in as bad a shape as I am. I’m gonna stop feeling like shit for being broke. I’m not alone. And hell, as long as we have a roof overhead, heat, and food…We’re far from destitute. Even if my own father makes it sound like I am raising my kid in a cardboard box eating out of trash cans.

One thing this past week has taught me…there are things far more painful than not having money for the latest igadget or a shiny car or fancy clothes.

Losing your two best friends in less than 12 hours is far worse than not having a dime to your name. Shame the human race’s priorities have become so shallow and possessions based.

No price could ever be placed on the love and joy Absinthe and Arsenic brought me.

 

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18 Responses to “Barely breathing”

  1. Ou vey. Dad’s upbringing is no excuse-sounds like my husband. Let it go man. Grow up and move on ffs, I am so sorry about Abby and Arsenic. They were lovely little fur babies that brought you joy even if in fits and starts. Thank you sister for fixing the vacuum and helping to lay the babies to rest. Mom needs an ass whoopin-can I do it?? Nice of R to let you trial run the android. I hate ieverything. I don’t want the next latest and greatest-I want something that isn’t gonna freeze up on my, cut out when I’m on the phone or iCloud tell me it’s full when it’s not. I hate it.

    I’d say one thing at a time, but you know that drill. You need to mourn your fur babies. Then pack your shit and move to our island with Wifi and Diane distilling our booze. Zoe will make us awesome art, blah will be the deep thinker most days, and I’ll keep an ongoing supple of men for us-and lesbians for blah if she deems it so.
    We will find someone to teach the kids-that or let them run around in leaf bikinis. Either is fine with me.

    Love you lots an lots ❤ xoxo

  2. Good Lord, I am sorry, but your father sounds like a dick.
    It will take as long as it takes for you to mourn. You have to honor that.
    I’m so sorry, I wish I had something wise to say that would help.
    Sending hugs

  3. Seriously!? I can’t (but so) believe how your family treats you,,, NOT cool at all! Sounds to me like you WERE switched at birth (imagine the poor family stuck with the DNA from Hell-child!? ,,, lol,,,) Can I come out & kick some ass(es)!? Hugs & £0¥€ ❤

  4. Losing my smartphone has been literal hell for me. I can concentrate more on getting things done online on a phone than PC because multi-tasking isn’t as easy. It also keeps me connected to the only people I give two flying fucks about in this life. And it’s always a decent enough camera where I didn’t have to haul my pro one to get memorable shots of things I like. Even without service and a bloated battery, I still carry it with me. When I come into money, a cell phone service is the first thing I am getting.

    I always need to be connected or I just fucking lose my mind, basically. Which explains why the agoraphobia has gotten 100 times worse, where I cannot even stand being outside for 30 minutes before hyperventilating.

    Your dad is starting to remind me of E’s (Strong Enough to Break) dad in his self absorbed thing. It is indeed basic fucking human courtesy to say you are sorry when someone loses their family. Even if a person did not understand attachment to pets (cause some people think we’re fucking crazy for caring so much) you at least fucking do hypocrisy and say you’re sorry. Wtf. So you ignore his insensitive ass and continue to mourn as you’re able. Medications take much from us but this whole grieving process is a necessary thing so that we don’t keep all that pain like broken shards of glass in our hearts.

    Also. Thank you for growing up to be amazing in spite of what you lived through with your parents.

    • Yes Zoe I love & agree with your last paragraph!!

    • I have to be connected to the net when home, or at least able to make a call when out…But this pathological need to do everything from one tiny device isn’t my thing. I prefer a full keyboard my fat fingers fit on, a full screen to view, and not worrying about the battery draining cos I am plugged in.
      I’m retro that way. Or showing my age, whatevs.

  5. Your father really is an asshole. And it’s too soon (far too soon) to ha e accepted the loss of good friends and companions. I hope the heat ends soon, I hope autumn doesn’t fuck you up too much.

  6. It’s sad that your father couldn’t break the chains of abuse, but instead carried the trait on to his own children. You either become your parents or you become the opposite of them. My mom was an abusive drug addict narcissist schizophrenic (and still is) but I vowed that when I had my daughter, I would not be the same kind of mother. I wish your dad could have learned that lesson and applied it to his parenting.

    I was ten when a dog ate my cat named Callie. I cried uncontrollably for years after she died. Even now, twenty years later, if I think about her too much, I get teary-eyed.

    Damn animals and our heart strings.

  7. Your post makes me appreciate all over again the fact that my parents are both dead. The kind of pressure you’re being put under just isn’t in my life anymore. There are other pressures, yes. But the peculiar pressure that a parent can put on a child is gone for me now. I want to tell you to cut your parents out of your life, to say ‘no more’ and not see them or speak to them or answer any communication from them. I think it would be far better for you. However, I’m not so old that I’ve forgotten how hard that is when both parents are alive. It’s far too difficult to establish a clear zone around you where they can’t interfere in that situation. And while a part of me wants to add my rants to this column, to tell you how horrid your father’s behavior is, it’s not going to change things for you. Nor will my empathy for your painful loss, even tho my heart is still torn after eighteen months and I still hear my Sable from time to time. This is the part of the journey you must walk alone. It’s what scares me most about life: some things no one can help. You’ve got to get right with yourself, and that just takes time. There’s no comfort in that thought, no blanket to hold close and keep you warm as you cry every night, I know. I’m sorry, sorrier than you can imagine. But you are a fighter, a scrapper. I can hear it, even if you can’t right now. Your joking is just an example of that to me; you are reminding yourself of the jest, the irony in life. It’s ok to do that. A coping mechanism? Probably. But so what? Like you don’t have shit you need to cope with?!?

    Peace, sister.

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