27 July 2011

After the last fruitless blog post I figure it's time for an update for anyone who cares. I just took my last Klonopin and can't get more until Friday, assuming I can get to the Dr. since Dad has my truck this week and his car won't make it to town without losing all of its water.

Overall I'm in a better place than I have been, and it's been a fight getting this far. I still have setbacks, like thinking about Frank and wanting to kick him in his lying, abandoning, promise breaking balls. I've been having lots of flashbacks too, those don't help at all. It seems the world is still against me, though Frank absolutely believes the world doesn't care. It's the people in it who don't care about me or anyone else, him being one of the non-caring dickheads. It feels so great being thrown away like garbage by someone who was supposed to be your best friend, and then have it blamed on you. Hopefully he still reads this blog. If he does here's the message: That was a bullshit and pussy move you pulled. Thank you for shitting on me.

Dave and I are going strong. He's working himself to death in the gardens and yards (he takes care of his mother's place too). He's actually been calling and saying "I love you" in return to mine. Maybe those months of sitting on the curb taught him I'm not going to put up with bullshit and discompassion forever. Still he called 8 times while I was locked up in the asylum. He didn't have to. We weren't together. He didn't have to come get me when they let me out. Now he finds time to call or come over or even better, take me fishing. He has rarely snapped at me for no fault of mine... and when he has I've stood my ground and told him to fuck off if he's going to treat me like shit for no reason today.

Dad and I are getting along still. It's rather scary because I know it's going to blow up again sometime. He read the letter and the only response was "I don't agree with everything you've written" and an explanation about my movies like they were the most important thing on the list. No discussion. No information. Nothing. It's the same response I got when he read the chapter of my autobiography dedicated to him and my asshole brothers.

I'm on a bit of a downslope at the moment because the collection agency Heartland Health and its doctors send overdue bills to called again saying I owe them money when the fucking bill has been paid. She said it's going to another collection agency and I'm going to have to pay overdue fines and other fees because I didn't voluntarily pay them $375 from my money shitting ass. I don't know why it bothers me as much as it is, but it does and it creates stress, anxiety and depression. I'm never going to the hospital again, for any reason, even if I'm suicidal. I'll just take my chances and hope it works out.

Since Dad has the only working vehicle to go to work every day until he gets his car fixed, I'm more isolated than normal. The Sims 3 is getting boring. TV is boring. I'm broke and couldn't go anywhere if I had money. Hopefully the car is fixed soon and the isolation I'm experiencing doesn't become all consuming like it does every August when I'm not in school.

09 July 2011

Letter to Dad


While I realize we haven't fought in a few weeks, that is a rare thing, and I think it's only because I spent most of my $300 financial aid refund on food for us.

When we do argue you absolutely make me feel like dog shit and you seem to enjoy it. I don't need to hear that you're going to be the one paying back my student loans all of the time. I don't need to be told in so many words that I'm a failure. I already know I am. You go for the jugular and hit below the belt every single time we fight. You know damn well that badmouthing Mom is going to set me off more than I'm already going off, so why do it?

I'm not sure you even love me for real. I feel like you just tolerate me because I'm the piece of shit that you created. I can only remember one good thing you and I did together when I was growing up and that was making homemade apple pies. The rest of it is me begging you to do things with me, take me places and to stop picking on me. Your version of teasing is not cute, it cuts me to the bone every time. It always has. And you let Joe and Jon tease me the same way. Neither you nor Mom defended me whatsoever.

I was fed to the wolves from day one. You knew Mom was excessively using corporal punishment to the point I was welted and bruised but you didn't do a damn thing to stop her. You didn't do a damn thing to stop Grandma and Marsha and everyone else from using me as their personal dysfunctional toy, someone to bitch at and hyper criticize because I would defend myself against their attacks, I wouldn't mold myself to their super religious views of what a child and woman should be. Shit this Fourth of July was the first family gathering I've been to where I wasn't the victim of some asshole's attacks that you just sit back and watch, or more honestly, join in on.

Why did you never defend me? Why wasn't I ever good enough to take fishing? Why did you think it was cute I would bang my head into the wall instead of seeing it for what it was, a warning sign that something wasn't right? Why did you decide it had to be me against the world from the beginning? The only solace I got was from Grandpa Lowry and that was too short lived. At least I knew he wasn't going to hit me or tease me or criticize me to the point of wanting to die. Yeah, I was suicidal by the time I was in the fourth grade but nobody noticed or cared. Nobody cares if I'm suicidal now.

How come when we fight now you have to hit below the belt? Why do we even have to fight? Why do you always start it by yelling at me for no reason, making me feel like dog shit that you stepped in? Why did you have to tell me that you've resigned yourself to living with me until you die, like I'm some horrible thing? Did you stop to think how that sounded coming out of your mouth and how it would make me feel? Why did you always attack Mom every chance you got to make her feel like shit too? Why do you always tell me I'm just like her in every bad way? And why are my missing pornos in your desk drawer?

Ups and Downs

I sit here rather pissed at the moment, trying to relax to Belphegor.

I've had a tough week as far as everything goes. Right now it's just easy as hell to piss me off. I keep cycling from mild manic to mild depressed. Today is apparently agitated manic. And in looking for my headphones in Dad's desk I found my missing pornos. Not that they'd do me any good, my medicine has completely zapped my libido. Yay for Dave and I.

My estranged aunt and I came into contact after months of not speaking. I discovered she looks too much like Mom. All she wanted to talk about was the dysfunction on her side of the family that her and Mom grew up with, then remind me that I wasn't the only one that got hit and tried to defend Dad by saying he tried to defend me. He never tried to defend me. His version of teasing fucked me up royally and he allowed my piece of shit brothers to be hypercritical and follow his flavor of teasing.

Then I got into it tonight with her daughter, likely because she thinks I'm snitching. I'm impressed that she read my holiday blog. I'm impressed anyone reads this thing. She told me I made my point clear... good. And while I'm making points I can have whoever the fuck I want in my life. Fortunately there's very few I want in my life. Aunt and cousin pending decision. I'm still pissed at how the whole Mom dying thing went down with those two. I ended up getting an F in German because I couldn't do my homework by the way. Hope you're happy. Now I have to waste another 3 credit hours fixing it so I can go on with my studies. Then again, I actually give a fuck about finishing school with a better GPA than my current bipolar/dying parent induced 2.5.

I've had 2 shitty nights of sleep. Thursday night I swear I heard Mom yelling at me to do something for her. I woke up every hour Thursday night. Didn't sleep well last night either. Probably won't sleep well tonight. I can hardly wait to try. It should be a ton of fun.

04 July 2011

Relatives and Holidays.

We celebrated the Fourth on the Second. Amazingly enough my family was somewhat behaved toward me... that was probably because there were other people to pick on. The biggest cringe/want to stab moment was when the little ginger kid was throwing a fit because he couldn't go outside (he was overheated) and Grandma in her infamous ways said "Oooooh those tears come quick don't they?" I wanted to smack her. It's a good thing the kid probably couldn't understand what she said. I took enough of the shit like that as a kid when I couldn't understand it and when I could understand the insults being hurled at me.

The brother that lives close came for dinner and fireworks at Grandma's with the rest of us. His wife cut her hair and I didn't recognize her so I was glaring at her trying to figure out what strange bitch my brother had and wondering if his wife knew he had the strange bitch with him. Oops. No I wasn't drunk, her haircut changed her appearance that much and she didn't talk so I couldn't peg her for her voice. Yes, I face palmed.

I guess Dad's side of the family can get along with me as long as we're blowing shit up. This is probably the first get together ever that I was not the target of insults and belittlement... at least not to my face. Maybe they're finally learning that I fight back.

Somehow it got brought up that both of my counselors want me to have a dialogue with Dad about our arguing, what it does to me, how it makes me feel, etc.. to which the response was, we don't fight. Granted we haven't fought lately (probably because I used most of my $300 on food) but that doesn't stop the fact that when we do fight he hits below the belt as soon as he can and as much as he can and pushes every single button imaginable... especially badmouthing Mom. That sets me off quicker than anything else. I'm thinking of writing him a letter with all the shit in it. I'm better at getting my point across by written word rather than spoken.

Apparently there's still tension between the two warring factions involved in the molestation case (which goes to trial later this month). What one side doesn't realize is small children don't usually make this shit up, and I can totally fuck up that side's day by telling them about their son molesting me from 8-13, not that I would be believed by anybody in this dysfunctional family. It'll all come out in the book I'm authoring at the moment anyway. I personally believe the victim and think the one side needs to wake up to reality.

Factions are warring on Mom's side as well. One person can't see that she's abusive and needs psychological help as bad as my fucked up brain does, the other can't see that she neglected her kids enough that foster care has them and she needs psychological help as well. DFS doesn't just arbitrarily take children away. Then again there are plenty of kids that DFS should take that they don't. Personally I think they should all be in foster care and away from the dysfunction of the family until some epiphanies are made.

Both sides of my family are completely messed up. I fell victim to both sides, including my immediate family. I hate to see other children being sucked into the lifeless void of my family.

As you can tell my give a shit is busted. I just don't care about anything anymore... and I'm not about to hold back when I see injustice.