Trauma Llama

I thought yesterday sucked out of the gate as my sinuses were so infected even my gums hurt as well as my head. I figured seeing the shrink would just make the whole day suck more but I was trying to get through it.

And then en route to my 11:30 doctor appointment, the death trap quit running. Amid a fucking funeral procession. I got it running, told the doc I was on the way, then the fucker quit AGAIN and went nowhere. So I had to call back to reschedule then TRY to get mom to answer the phone so she could come get me…GRRR.  She did (oddly, two different gentleman stopped to make sure I didn’t need help, which in this town is odd) and then she let me drive her car home and keep it so I could get to the doctor.

I LOVE this fucking Buick. The paint job is pretty decrepit but the interior is posh, everything fucking works, it rides smoothly, runs quietly…So I told my mom I’d buy it from her if she was willing to sell it. I’d have to make payments, of course, but she said…Okay. And I’m like, excellent, I’ll just wait for the city to tow the Grand Am off the street (as I have nothing til Friday) and I can settle that tow bill and disposal with the city. I mean, what else can I do?

I called to tell my dad mom and I were wanting to make this deal.

You think he’d be cool, right? She doesn’t like old cars, I wanna marry the fricking thing, it’s all in working order and comfy as fuck…

Instead, that prick started screaming at me. Something about, “43 years I’ve tried to get you a car to drive but you never want to put any money into them, I wish I could find something that’d just need gas and you could drive it forever!”

Okay, followers…Did I not recently write that I was fully willing to get this Grand Am worked on, at my expense, as long as I had a loaner vehicle/way around?

He buys me a fucking car that wouldn’t even run, period. None of the gauges work. (I got yelled at for letting the coolant run dry, then the oil run low, and it’s like, fuuuuck, I checked it three days ago it was fine but DAMN wouldn’t it be nice if they designed cars with these things called gauges OH WAIT.) R has no time, or at least “time where you don’t have to be driving it”. Yeah, sue me cos this town’s public transport consists of expensive taxies and buses you have to make an appointment to ride.

Anyway…There I am, thinking, I have finally found the answer to my problem, and this man just keeps yelling at me. Like I broke the stupid car.

And then he keeps carrying on about “getting it off the street” and of course, that’s fifty bucks and where to go with it anyway…He wouldn’t front the money cos they have to have $900 to fix their house foundation…Mom ain’t got it. So…let them tow it, and fine me, what the fuck else can I do? But noo, he had to turn it all confrontational and I’m irresponsible for not having cash on hand, ESPECIALLY now that I am getting that alfuckingmighty child support….Never minding it ALL goes replacing food stamp money we lost so how can I save a damned penny?????

He had me so mad I told him I was running out of phone time and had to go. And I only have 20 mins time left til next week so it wasn’t a lie, but also, it was to escape that oppressive senile fuck of a man. All I could hear was him screaming, “I wish I’d never bought a fucking thing for any of you!”

I never asked. Aside from my first car he procured, and i paid half the bank loan on, I never asked him to get me a car. He has always taken it upon himself to do this shit. I can’t point it out cos then I am just more ungrateful.

I was okay with the city tow thing. If they don’t do it by Friday when I get cash, I’ll call a truck, figure it out. But I thought the solution, keeping this Buick, was perfect and my mom is on board. In spite of my cousin fussing about “what will I drive when I get my license and job?” Um, he can’t get his license til August and we’ve all been told repeatedly that my sister is going to help him get something “better” than this Buick. Have at it! I love the car. I just need $140 to get everything from the Pontiac transferred to it. But now I am gonna have one hell of a tow bill for the impound lot so that may take awhile…

Fuck. I can’t catch a break. And I am surrounded by ass clowns.

Making it worse, dad called R and brought him into it yesterday. After I purposely did not call him and drag him in. So R called me all growling and demanded I bring the Pontiac key to him at his house when in fact, he could have just as easily dropped by here for thirty seconds to get it instead of making me drive mom’s car (I will be less antsy once insurance is in my name, the woman is a nervous nellie from hell). He was copping an attitude. I was pissy as fuck due to the sinus issue keeping me from my cigarettes thus necessitating nicotine withdrawal and pissy little syndrome.I was furious my dad dragged him into it, pissed off at him for having such an attitude…

Yesterday sucked donkey balls.

Today wasn’t as awful. I dodged my dad’s message he left. I don’t wanna deal with him. Mrs R asked for a ride to pick up her car at the dealership today so I took her out there in the Buick and explained what was what…and she agrees it’s ten times the car the pontiac is, so what is my dad’s fucking problem?

I don’t get it, but I am a hair’s width from excising my cancerous father and his crew from our lives. He’s fucking toxic. I mean, this is a good solution to the car problem, mom’s on board and not even venomous and…

Forty three years he’s been holding every tiny thing over my head, including the fact that in 1973 when I was born, my hospital bill cost him twelve hundred bucks. I kid you not.

Respect your elders is a nice concept but useless when they treat you like shit and you just wanna give it back.

Back to more pleasant things. I found a Canadian series called The Collector about a guy who sold his soul to the devil…and the devil isn’t as much of a dick as my father is.


6 Responses to “Trauma Llama”

  1. You’ve been talking about cutting your family out for awhile. I’m surprised you didn’t just give your dad and R hell because you never asked or wanted that death trap any fucking way.
    I am impressed that mom and Mrs R are on the same page about the Buick. (I love how they all make it about themselves, assfuckery abounds. This should be in the first paragraph not here but I’m too lazy to move it)
    Is be a bitch and send the tow bill to dad and say this wouldn’t have happened if R would have done as he said and GOT DIDN’T BUY THIS PIECE OF SHIT. Then again, I’m hormone and adjusting to meds… It’s a valid reason, right?
    Did you ever get to the Dr?

    • Oddly the shrink visit was the ONE thing that went right that day, he took my suggestion of a two week increase in prozac, then another 20 mg increase and he gave me my focalin back. Now I just have to find the fifty bucks to pay for it.
      I know I talk a lot about tossing my family out but it’s not a lack of initiative. I literally talk to and see these people at most, twice a week. In that time, they infect me like fucking ebola. I want them out. My kid adores them and they are her family so it’s like I have to take one for the team…Maybe in a month my mind will make better sense of it all. at this Prozac dosage I can barely work up the gumption to make a sammich.

      • Well so glad the doc appt went well for once! Hell even with private insurance focalin for NSLM was $25 for the generic, so don’t feel so bad about the price. You know you can use that child support that you family thinks is the savior to your problems… Ass clowns.
        Maybe with the med makeover it’ll be different. I HOPE it is for you and Spook. But there’s gotta come a time when enough is enough, ya know? Cuz even Spook is being toxicified. Oh now I’m hungry. 😉 I do hope the med adjustment works for you. 💖

  2. YAY for mom being willing to not be a bitch for once. Fuck your dad. These people are idiots.

  3. Two very well thought out solutions:
    1. Sell your soul to the devil for a car that runs on souls
    2. Use the unwanted family member’s souls to run the car
    3. Once the devil reads this blog he’ll hire you as an executive advisor

    You get to torture smug A-holes, earn a fat wage and buy a sports car!! (and get your mum to marry the devil, then you get a new dad)

    I would say I’m not a corrupted bar steward but I just worked out I’m suggesting selling souls, dealing with the devil and getting rid of family members!

    • I just finished watching all 3 seasons of a show about a soul collector (The Collector) and ya know…at my age…I’m thinking I’d sell my soul for ten more years. My kid will be raised, I’ll be elderly, and who gives a fuck anyway.

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