God Help Me

I’m typing this up offline as there is only a small window of opportunity to use the internet, before Comcast knows I’m online and starts forwarding to their activation page. I was already in a horrible mood. When I lost the internet again yesterday I had a mini-breakdown as things began to pile up on me. Today it was a like bomb. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. As soon as Cynthia woke me up today and told me there was a message on the machine that she thought was from my mom, but it wasn’t from our phone numbers, I knew it was bad. To spare anyone who reads this I’ll put the facts in convenient bullet point form…

  • My mom’s psycho bf “WDisney” was sent to jail for threatening to kill my mom
  • He’s getting out soon
  • My mom is staying at a friends house
  • My mom is being evicted
  • She’s talking about moving to Texas

    Cynthia doesn’t seem to care about all this, she just says she knew it was going to happen. I thought it might happen too, but I had hoped it would end before it would go that far. I’m thinking about bringing the bowling pin (yes I have a bowling pin) up from the basement. It’s a good thing I’m staying up at night right now, because I’m going to have to be on the lookout for him. Unfortunately, he knows who my aunt is and where she lives. We hadn’t wanted him to, but thanks to my “you can trust WDisney” mom, she let him know. My mom said I could go get anything I wanted from the apartment in case he trashed it, but not only do we not know when he’s getting out, I don’t have a key anymore. She took mine and gave it to him. There’s a chance I might lose all my stuff, and my grandmother’s things, the only things I have left of her besides one picture, since her house burned down a few years after she died. And while I didn’t like it, and haven’t lived there in a while, I’m losing my home too. I’m never going to live there again. I may never see my mom again either, because there is no way I’m moving to Texas. Assuming he doesn’t trash anything, I’ll have to move a few of my most important things up here, and the rest will go wherever my mom goes. I’m also going to have to get my birth certificate and other stuff off her, since she’ll no longer be in charge of that. I have been staying here with my great aunt, but I don’t know how much longer that can last, and I have no where else to go. Obviously, this has shaken my already fragile state. Sometimes I curse my sanity, it would be easier to just break and go completely insane. I’m having so much taken away from me again, there’s a threat to both my things and my family, and I can’t even get on the internet to vent and waste time. I guess I’ll be reading the manga, since I won’t be able to listen to music or watch anime (which I’m running out of). And the same the next night and the next night. For who knows how long. I should stop here or I’ll ramble endlessly. I have to go get some more cleenex and something to chew on, I really need to stop biting the inside of my mouth.

    Edit: And if you didn’t see my Twitter in the sidebar, I do not have internet now. Hopefully it’ll come back in a couple weeks.

  • I Despise My Life

    And living in general. And my mother. No icon this time I just don’t feel like it. Like most days now I went up to Cynthia’s to eat. My mother was here yesterday, don’t know why she came over and stayed the night, but she did, though she barely spoke to me or even saw me. Most of the time she was on the couch watching TV. This morning she made garlic bread and left the pan on the stove. When I got home from Cynthia’s at around 8 I saw it there and decided to move it because I don’t like things on the stove, particularly heavy things. It’s a messed up old stove. Like if you pull down the oven door too quickly or forcefully the whole thing tips forward, and the top part with the oven dials is separating from the bottom part where the burns are, which is why I don’t like things on it to make it any worse. So I moved it and set it down with some other kitchen stuff, near the crock pot. I didn’t see the crock pots heavy glass lid there, and when I put the pan down the lid fell on to the top of my foot. That’s what started all this. I have accidents all the time, every day actually. This isn’t the first time I’ve smashed a body part. I’ve been lucky so far, at least in the past few years and had no serious injuries, but I always worry, especially when I hurt myself. I’m always alone, and even though I do have free health care provided by the state, if something bad happened I probably wouldn’t get any help. The lids edge landed right where the foot ends and the big toe starts. It hurt like hell (still hurts of course) and I was afraid I might have fractured it. When I’m worried there’s really nothing to do but tell someone just to talk, to get reassurance, and to let them know what happened, just so they know. I didn’t call my mom at first, I called Cynthia. Basically the only time I got medical attention for an accident (I fractured my ankle on a school field trip) I was with her. Had I been with my mother then it probably never would have happened. My mom was out in Arizona with her boyfriend then. She had left me with my great aunt (who we both had been living with) and moved back. I didn’t have health care (I think this is the first time I’ve ever had it) but my aunt still took me to the hospital. I’ve always known with my mother that no matter what happened I wouldn’t get any help with her. So Cynthia is my first choice to call. After I spoke with her I was still worried so I broke down and called my mom. I never should have called her. But no matter what she’s still my mother, and unfortunately I still love her, and I’m weak. I hate myself for making such a stupid move. At first she was sympathetic, and said she was coming down to see me even though I told her not to. She’s often had the proper mother sentiment even if she hasn’t had the actions to back it up. She called back a few minutes later and said she didn’t think she could come down because she’d been drinking. I didn’t really think she’d actually come to see me, she’s never cared when I’ve been unwell or hurt before, but it was a nice thought, my mother actually being near me. She immediately turned it into about her. That guilting, self serving crap “tell me you love me tell me you love me” “tell me you’re alright tell me you’re alright” Then saying “I’ll come down, I would come down but…” All just so she can feel better about herself. After having to go through all that for like 5 minutes I finally broke down crying and said exactly what I said here “I never should have called you.” And that really started the waterworks. She thinks she has cancer, colon cancer specifically. Could she? Yes, of course. Cancer runs in our family big time. My aunt had eye cancer, and my grandmother had breast and pancreatic cancer, that’s just what I know about. She’s also going on 50. So yes she could have cancer. Do I believe she has cancer? I’ll believe it when I great a straight answer out of her. She first told me she wants me to go live with stay with my great aunt Laura in Maryland, who I barely know. It’s not the first time she’s tried to unload me. I was half raised by my great aunt Cynthia and my grandmother, I only really spent any time with my mom during the many times we moved to Arizona (we kept moving back here) when she wasn’t with Matt-freak that was. She said it was because she’s sick and has cancer. I flipped then. I usually try to keep my cool, because there’s no point in arguing with that person, but I couldn’t stop myself from saying yes, you’re always sick, but no one else is. If you get dizzy you say you’re having a heart attack, and now she has cancer. She said she really is sick. I asked her if a doctor told her that, and I couldn’t understand her very well because drunk people babble, and it’s even worse when they’re crying, but the first time she said yes, she knew she does, and the second time I asked her she said she had to get the test done. I could go on like that forever and each time she’d say something different because drunk people are never clear, especially drunk pathological liars. She said again she wants me to go with Laura because she wants me to be taken care of, since she can’t right now and can’t even work because of it. And she’s worried because she’s always taken care of me. Why does she think she has cancer? Because she can’t go to the bathroom. She used to always have diarrhea and now she’s constipate and and she says she can’t go to the bathroom at all and she’s in pain. Cynthia blames it on her drinking herself stupid and not eating. She also watched on old episode of Dr Oz this morning, and the first segment was about cancer pains, and since she has all the symptoms she immediately said she has colon cancer. Last Thursday she was talking about looking for a job, and having someone move in with us (which is the thing from the last few posts), and even today she was talking about having roommates, wondering whether to keep the Showtime package so she can watch Dexter, and saying she has to clean because we still need our water fixed (we’ve had barely any water except a trickle from the shower for almost a year now) and now she has cancer. Obviously I don’t believe her. Of course she could have cancer. My poor great aunt Cynthia who I worry about constantly, has had it before, and has spots on her lungs, could have cancer. My aunt Cyndy who bakes herself out in the sun and smokes like a fiend could have cancer. I, with my constant headaches, dizziness, and walking into walls and everything else could have cancer. Do any of us? (If there’s a God in heaven I do or will soon, fingers crossed) I won’t believe it until a doctor actually says it. I particularly won’t believe it from my mother until it’s actually confirmed. Part of it is her hypochondria, part of it is bitterness. She always says something is wrong with her, and is always complaining about something. And I mean always. That’s the bitterness part of it. She’s so self centered. Like when I called and needed her she immediately turned the whole thing into a Pam Pity Party. I’m so used to hearing her complain about everything and saying she has this sickness, and she has that sickness. When she has a problem it’s the end of the world, and she suffers so much. She’s not even interested in helping herself, she just wants to complain about it, guilt other people into sympathizing with her. She was supposed to get a tests done in December and never did. Then the doctor was trying once again to have her go get tests done a few months ago. And even now has she gone to get the test done? I couldn’t get an answer out of her, but the last thing she said was that she still needed the test. I called Cynthia right after I spoke with my mother because I was in a horrible state. She said if she really thinks something is wrong then she should shut up and go to the hospital to find out. She said if my mom called back not to answer it, and I told her I didn’t plan to. I don’t want to talk to her. My mom did say she would call back in a few minutes, after she finally did decide to hang up, but I didn’t think she would and she hasn’t. More “I’m so sick *drunk babbling* you don’t believe me, no I’m just making this up for the fun of it *drunk babbling* I’m going to get help I just want you to be taken care of” (oh, yes, please have a hit put out on me and put me out of my misery). I so wanted to right then and there just to drink all that przc, but I’m such a coward. I’m so afraid of having a seizure, or seriously messing myself up instead. I know I’m not a good person, but I don’t believe I’m a very bad person either. I don’t see why I deserve this. Why oh why are there no tall buildings around here? Did God get his messages crossed, I’m the one who desperately wants to die. It might sound mean or selfish to talk like this about my mom when she said she has cancer, but please spare me you’re ridiculous PPP comments. You don’t know me, my life, or my mother, it’s not the first time she’s said she was sick and was actually fine. I will believe her when she says she went to the doctor and this is her diagnosis. Until then I will not pander to an attention hound. Now I have to go lay back down, try to make my foot comfortable, and get to sleep.

    So Went to the Doctor

    The following has a lot of ranting and swearing, so if you’re going to whine and bitch about me being angry or something don’t read it. Do the world a favor and go kill yourself instead. Still, I’ve placed a cut off where it gets really bad, so you don’t see it unless you click “more.”

    Like I said before I haven’t really been in the mood to blog for a few weeks now. I can’t even bring myself to watch any anime or read any manga. I went to the doctor on Monday. I was really unsure about it when I saw it because it’s not in an actual building or anything, and from the outside it looks like a house. Well, it probably was a house and was remodeled. That place is surprisingly busy though. We waited for a while an my mom went in first, then a while later me. I talked to the nurse a little and she checked my height/weight, blood pressure (110/45 I think), and my pulse. She was shocked by my pulse and asked if it was always that fast. It is, I have the heartbeat of a hummingbird. I’m sure that isn’t good. I had to wait even longer for the doctor. I guess the room I was in is also where a lot of supplies are kept supplies in because the nurse and some med student kept going in and out. The med student was getting a needle ready for something, I guess someone was getting a shot. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of that. The nurse kept saying “no, no, you’ll bend the needle” and “you have to get the air bubbles!” and “cap the needle, you can’t walk around with it like that.” I’m surprise the person survived it. When the doctor came in the med student followed, which I was not happy about. You should have to consent to it. Even if she is a student I don’t think she has any right to listen in on my conversation with a doctor. Don’t confidentiality laws cover that? He let me basically say everything I wanted to, but I felt really rushed. It’s difficult enough talking to people I know, extremely difficult to strangers, and with an audience? I ended up missing a lot because I wasn’t able to go calmly through my list. He even let the girl use me as a guinea pig. The doctor checked my eyes and apparently there could be something wrong with them. Then had her check my eyes, and she said something about discoloration. When he did my reflexes (knees, arm, and achilles) he let her to my heel too. And he listened to my heart, breathing. He told me to take a deep breath but honestly it wasn’t that deep, since I was having trouble breathing well at that time (I do sometimes).

    He’s having me get an MRI and a CT Scan, but he’s waiting until he gets my old blood test results before he’ll have me get others, since I don’t know everything they tested. I do know they did not check my sugar. So now I’ve got to wait a week for that before he’ll order more tests. Then my mom doesn’t have off a weekday next week so I’ll have to wait until the week after that to go to the hospital. This is ridiculous. She should have explained the situation and asked off for a day next week, instead of making me wait even longer. Why can’t people realize this is serious?!! At this point it’s the diabetes test I desperately need. I’ve temporarily cut all sugar out of my diet until I know whether or not I have it so I don’t make things worse. They’re still getting worse on their own. My feet are continuing to get more discolored. Mostly it’s just a deep maroon sort of color, but I had noticed some other brown dots inside them. Now instead of brown dots inside of the red, they’re just brown small spots. I noticed today when I got a pain in one of my toes, and I reached down to touch it. The area was really hard, so I took of my sock to look at it and there the brown spots were. I checked the other marks on my toes to see if any of them were hard, and one was too. There’s also constant sort of numb feeling on the top of my foot in front of the toes, and a feeling that’s sort of like when it’s going to get numb in the actual toes. This started happening in the last two weeks of October and is only getting worse. If this is diabetes and my toes are changing color due to a lack of blood flow I could lose them if I don’t get help like now. But as always no one will do anything. And that’s not the only thing, knowing my mom even if my toes do start getting black she won’t take me to the hospital right away, and I’ll end up losing my whole foot! I better not have diabetes and I better not lose any of my toes, or I’ll smash all hers and that freaking doctors for letting it happen. And then Cynthia tells me that I shouldn’t worry, I just shouldn’t think about it, that even people who have diabetes can eat sugar, and that the doctors will find out what’s wrong with me and fix it, then I can go to school and get a job because I have to help out around here. Okay let’s start with her first fucking stupid statement. I am so sick of people telling me not to worry and telling me how to feel. Of course I’m worried about it, and I should be! Any normal person would be worried, and anyone who wouldn’t is a fucking freak who doesn’t deserve to breathe. They should just die! Those happy-go-lucky optimistic people are so sickening, they need a good dose of reality! Second, sure people with diabetes can eat sugar once in a while, just not a lot of it. But not when their toes are about to fall off!!!! Why can’t anyone figure out with their tiny, stupid fucking minds why I am not eating any sugar when my toes are changing color? Even after I repeatedly tell them why they still don’t listen!!! I can’t risk it! I can’t risk it, I can’t risk it, I can’t risk it, I can’t risk it! I can’t risk making the situation worse, or speeding up the process of my toes/feet get amputated. But no one cares if I have to since it doesn’t affect them, so they don’t feel like they have to listen. Anyone else who could have diabetes and their toes are changing color and they want to eat candy and drink pop, go ahead I don’t care if you have to get body parts chopped off. But I’m not going to. Then there’s the “doctors will find out what it is, doctors will fix it so don’t worry” crap. Most of the people in my family are older, and a lot in my immediate family have had health problems. Cynthia knows doctors are stupid, worthless people who don’t care about anything but money. Doctors don’t know anything and they don’t care, and 9 times out of 10 they don’t know what’s wrong with you or what to do about it. She knows that because it’s been going on with her for years. The same thing happened to her older sister, my grandmother, until she died from their stupidity because they couldn’t figure out she had cancer until a month before she died. And once they find out what’s wrong with you, it doesn’t mean they can fix it. There isn’t a magical “fix it” pill that makes you better. Diabetes can be managed, yes. MS and brain injuries cannot be fixed, and there’s very little they can do for either of them. She keeps saying how there’s treatment for it now, and how someone she worked with had a mother with MS and she did fine with it and had 6 kids. And they didn’t even have treatment back then. That’s bs. MS is different for everyone, and there are different types of MS. There are treatments for it, but they mostly treat the symptoms not the problem. And most people with MS still end up at least with trouble walking if not paralyzed. She knows absolutely nothing about MS but she’s like everyone else in this family and thinks she knows everything. And I’m sick of hearing from her about how I have to figure out what I want to do and what I want to go to school for. I can barely fucking talk and think right, or walk and she never shuts up about that! I have a lot more important things on my mind like, uh, trying to survive, than that. I have enough to worry about with having to put up with that crap. I am close to snapping as it is already, people need to keep their little opinions to themselves.

    Well I feel better now. At least until something else upsets me. My feet aren’t feeling too good though, since I’m sitting. Can’t sit, can’t stand, can’t lay down. I’m going to go try to exercise a little more. I really can’t do a lot now since my muscles were already aching after the doctors, but I had to keep exercising anyway. Then when I noticed the color on my foot was spreading I really freaked. So I can barely walk. I’m hobbling around here. I think I pulled something in the back of my right leg too. But I have to do it anyway.

    My Stupid Mother

    God she’s pissing me off again. She didn’t call until 8:20 (whenever she does that I have to wait hours and hours before I can eat since I don’t know whether she’s coming home or not) even though she got off early today. But I was expecting her not to since she brought me food yesterday which means she’s done her good deed for the week. So I wasn’t in any particular mood when I answered the phone, but my mom immediately told me I was angry with her (which in general I am, but wasn’t particularly at the moment). She asked why I was since she brought me “yummy chicken” yesterday. I didn’t even want KFC, I wanted LJS which I told her several weeks ago, and she decided that I wanted KFC instead. Then she said I was angry several times, before saying that I sounded evil and quickly ended the conversation (which she didn’t seem to interested in to begin with), now angry with me for something she decided all on her own. I hate it when people tell me how I feel.

    She didn’t go to the doctor today because she wasn’t in, but she got another bug bite that’s looking bad so she’s going to get that checked out. She’s closing tomorrow which really brings down the chances that I’ll see her or get a call from her even though she said she would. So now I am angry, 10x more than I would have been, thanks a lot mom.