Well it's another sleepless night for me. Apparently asking when family has Free time for me to visit on an up coming trip between states is a reason to be yelled at. They want me to visit, but actually saying when to visit is wrong of me to ask. I'm travel with just MJ, who is almost 3, without her daddy. He has to stay and work. I thought it would be nice to have extra time to see everyone and not all crammed into one or two days. It's like traveling to Disney world without booking a hotel, then showing up and demanding a 5 day stay at a discounted price. You don't do that. You plan things out. Which is what I'm trying to do.
Plus you don't just take a toddler on a trip and expect her to keep up with adults. She has a schedule. I want to keep it as close as possible so she won't be overwhelmed or a cranky brat. Why is it so hard to respect that?
Oh, and once again I was told the pain in my hands is all in my head again. Are you for real? How about I kick you in the balls and tell you that pain doesn't exist? I wouldn't be going thru all these tests for nothing. And 5 years of it! Can you seriously make up this shit and keep lying for 5 years repeating the same stuff? I hate drugs! I don't want to be on them! My parents were assholes growing up from drug use. I worked in a pharmacy and have seen what long term drug abuse looks like. I don't want to be like that. I take only what I need to just make it thru the day. And I hate it. I'd rather be working then sitting in pain all day. But it's all in my head. Yeah.
Of course my parents took my brother's side. Oh that's just how he is, I can't say anything to him about it. You shouldn't worry about those things. Seriously? Thanks for not sticking up for me. I keep forgetting he is the only one they like. Geez, my family sure does suck.
I try to stick to this notion of family and how they should be kind and caring and looking out for each other. But that is totally not the case here. I need to give up that notion and just stop visiting them. I already regret this trip and I haven't even left yet.
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Hoping For A Cure That Never Comes
As I crawled into bed at 10pm tonight, exhausted, I pushed play on my random movie thinking I was minutes away from sleep and tomorrow. 4 hours later and yours truly is still awake, thinking of all the things I could've accomplished had I known I'd be awake this whole time. I don't even feel tired anymore. Guess it was body rest I needed instead of sleep. Because here comes the worst part.
The pain has settled in for the night.
The pain that never truly goes away.
The pain that burns, aches, and stabs like a rusty dull knife, or a super sharp one that hits the right nerves and travels into your fingers or back up into your arms.
The pain I would never wish on anyone.
The pain that keeps me home when I want to go out and play.
The pain that feels like a punishment.
This shit is getting old. I'm tired of doctor hopping. I want a fucking answer and a cure. I want to stop putting on a fake smile and actually not lie when I say I'm doing fine. I want to go to work and provide for my family. I don't want to struggle in the summer when the electric gets high. I want to go out and visit friends. I want to take MJ to the park, the zoo, all sorts of places by myself instead of scheduling help for those things. I want to drive further than 15 minutes. I want to lift a gallon of milk without wincing in pain.
But I can't. And the worst part is, people just don't understand. I need so much help that I can't afford. There are things I should be able to do like any normal person but I can't. It sucks. I cry a lot. I want to do these things. People look at me like I'm a lazy person. Tell me to go get a job. That I just look after a kid, I know nothing about what a hard day of work is. Or go to your doctor and get it fixed and get back to work. I wish you could be me for a week.
And it's been bad. Real bad this pass couple weeks. I don't know if it's stress, hormones, or just me trying to do some work. I try to push thru and get some things done. I've gotten so good at lying that I even lie to myself. I don't want to deal. People don't want to hear about your problems over and over and over. So you just say you're OK or fine. You smile and laugh where appropriate even thou inside you're dying. I clentch my teeth a lot when the pain increases. You won't see it on my face though unless a real zinger cuts thru. Or you touch my hands on a sensitive day.
I hope you never have to find what it feels like to be in this much pain. To have to air dry your hands because the touch of a towel hurts. To never know what not being able to grip your eating utensils feels like. To not being able to curl your hands to grip anything. The pain of having to leave your job that you worked hard to get because you couldn't do it anymore. To wake up each morning wondering what your pain level is and what you can tolerate.
If only you could understand, then maybe you would stop judging me.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
The Family Problem
I tried to make time for my family whenever I travel back home. But some times the drama is just too much. I just want to sit and cry right now, but what does that solve? This time it won't make me feel any better. I guess you should know some stuff about my family.
See, I grew up in a very abusive family. And the courts didn't care. My half sister tried to get us out, but the law didn't care. My sister tried the same, but again the law failed us. My dad is a real nice guy out in public. But behind closed doors, he will beat the shit out of us. Every little thing that he felt we did wrong we got smacked, whipped, beat, and grounded. I was pulled by my hair down the stairs one evening because the dog peed in the kitchen. Because I didn't let him out in time. Or put paper down for them to use. It was one week before my 18th birthday. I use to get beat and yelled at for things my brother forgot to do. He was their golden boy. They didn't care if it was his chore or not, I was the one who got blamed. Even though he's the older sibling. I'm the youngest.
When my sister left, I got blamed for the laundry not being done. I had no clue how to work a washer or dryer at the time. But my brother new. I had to learn fast with no help. Then I kept getting told I was a mistake, not meant to be here. And my brother beat on me. My sister did too, before she left. My parents would beat on them, they beat on each other, they beat on me. I had no defense. I thought I was going to die. I didn't think I was going to ever make it out of that house. Some days I wish I had died back then. Especially dealing with this health shit now. I always wonder if it's because of something mom did while she was pregnant. I know they partied heavily. I know she drank while pregnant; she told me her doctor said she could have a glass of Brandy every night cause it was good for her. I don't know.
But back to today. I'm going back home for a couple days. Help out my husband's mom with some stuff. Look thru his dad's old things, see what I want to bring home. And of course I send out the call to everyone when I'll be home to make plans to see everyone. My siblings text of course, so I just sent out of group message to a bunch of people. And of course those two don't talk to each other. Ever. Don't know why. I don't care either. But I forgot that there is a certain setting on your phone you have to turn off so your texts back don't go to the whole group. And my brother didn't do that. So my sister got his text back to me. And asked who it was. And like a dumbass twat waffle, he said some dumbass reply instead of just saying wrong number and leaving it at that. So of course my sister knew it was him. And had to antagonize him back. And because of all that, they both yell at me, tell me it's my fault, and be jerks to me.
You know what, I'm on pain killers for my hands. It does mess with my mind some times. There are days where I use thingy to mean ten different things. I'm trying, but I still don't remember everything I'm supposed to. Thank heavens for spell check. But all they had to do was either ignore it, or say wrong number. For them to blame me because they can't think for themselves is ridiculous. Yes I sent the original message, I take responsibility for that. But the shit they do after is not my fault.
And then!!! To top that off, my brother tells me to get over it that he yelled at me. That he had a hard day at work babysitting 35 adults, and that he gets up at 4am to go to work and deal with that shit. That all I do all day is watch 1 kid. That he's allowed to be upset and yell at whoever he feels like it. Must be fucking nice. He turned out just like dad. He said he wouldn't, but he sure did. Just wait til I give him a piece of my mind when I get there. Cause I don't just watch 1 kid all day. I would love to be at work 8 hours a day, to have vacations, sick days, go home and relax after work. You don't do that being a parent. To top that off, I have the pain every day. Some days it's like being stabbed repeatedly with a dull knife. Other days it's a dull ache. It can travel up my arms. It makes my fingers curl up. I drop things all the time. I can't open jars. I can't type this without taking frequent breaks. I can't hold anything heavy. Especially nothing over a half a jug of milk. And only on my good days. I can only drive short distances on my good days. I've had to adapt. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. It feels like one more punishment to complete my whole not supposed to be born existence.
So I'd like to see him try to go to work like that. I just want to smash his hands and see how he can work like that. To drive, to do chores at home, to work, to cook, to take care of someone else. To have to push thru the bad days with no help because the husband can't just take off of work for me. And we don't have the disposable income like he does to hire help. Because he doesn't pay the bills at his house. His mother-in-law does. Because it's her house.
And of course it's only me doing the visiting. He hasn't visited at all. Doesn't even want to. Doesn't care. My parents have, but then blamed me for all the money he had to spend coming out here. How is that my fault? I'm just so tired of it. I just wanted to be treated like the respectable adult I am. To have family that actually loves me instead of abuses me. I don't know why I even bother trying any more.
Oh, and can't wait for that phone call from dad yelling at me about it too. Cause my brother will tell him, and so then he'll call to yell and blame me, telling my dad some twisted story that didn't even happen right. Like last time.
See, I grew up in a very abusive family. And the courts didn't care. My half sister tried to get us out, but the law didn't care. My sister tried the same, but again the law failed us. My dad is a real nice guy out in public. But behind closed doors, he will beat the shit out of us. Every little thing that he felt we did wrong we got smacked, whipped, beat, and grounded. I was pulled by my hair down the stairs one evening because the dog peed in the kitchen. Because I didn't let him out in time. Or put paper down for them to use. It was one week before my 18th birthday. I use to get beat and yelled at for things my brother forgot to do. He was their golden boy. They didn't care if it was his chore or not, I was the one who got blamed. Even though he's the older sibling. I'm the youngest.
When my sister left, I got blamed for the laundry not being done. I had no clue how to work a washer or dryer at the time. But my brother new. I had to learn fast with no help. Then I kept getting told I was a mistake, not meant to be here. And my brother beat on me. My sister did too, before she left. My parents would beat on them, they beat on each other, they beat on me. I had no defense. I thought I was going to die. I didn't think I was going to ever make it out of that house. Some days I wish I had died back then. Especially dealing with this health shit now. I always wonder if it's because of something mom did while she was pregnant. I know they partied heavily. I know she drank while pregnant; she told me her doctor said she could have a glass of Brandy every night cause it was good for her. I don't know.
But back to today. I'm going back home for a couple days. Help out my husband's mom with some stuff. Look thru his dad's old things, see what I want to bring home. And of course I send out the call to everyone when I'll be home to make plans to see everyone. My siblings text of course, so I just sent out of group message to a bunch of people. And of course those two don't talk to each other. Ever. Don't know why. I don't care either. But I forgot that there is a certain setting on your phone you have to turn off so your texts back don't go to the whole group. And my brother didn't do that. So my sister got his text back to me. And asked who it was. And like a dumbass twat waffle, he said some dumbass reply instead of just saying wrong number and leaving it at that. So of course my sister knew it was him. And had to antagonize him back. And because of all that, they both yell at me, tell me it's my fault, and be jerks to me.
You know what, I'm on pain killers for my hands. It does mess with my mind some times. There are days where I use thingy to mean ten different things. I'm trying, but I still don't remember everything I'm supposed to. Thank heavens for spell check. But all they had to do was either ignore it, or say wrong number. For them to blame me because they can't think for themselves is ridiculous. Yes I sent the original message, I take responsibility for that. But the shit they do after is not my fault.
And then!!! To top that off, my brother tells me to get over it that he yelled at me. That he had a hard day at work babysitting 35 adults, and that he gets up at 4am to go to work and deal with that shit. That all I do all day is watch 1 kid. That he's allowed to be upset and yell at whoever he feels like it. Must be fucking nice. He turned out just like dad. He said he wouldn't, but he sure did. Just wait til I give him a piece of my mind when I get there. Cause I don't just watch 1 kid all day. I would love to be at work 8 hours a day, to have vacations, sick days, go home and relax after work. You don't do that being a parent. To top that off, I have the pain every day. Some days it's like being stabbed repeatedly with a dull knife. Other days it's a dull ache. It can travel up my arms. It makes my fingers curl up. I drop things all the time. I can't open jars. I can't type this without taking frequent breaks. I can't hold anything heavy. Especially nothing over a half a jug of milk. And only on my good days. I can only drive short distances on my good days. I've had to adapt. It's the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with. It feels like one more punishment to complete my whole not supposed to be born existence.
So I'd like to see him try to go to work like that. I just want to smash his hands and see how he can work like that. To drive, to do chores at home, to work, to cook, to take care of someone else. To have to push thru the bad days with no help because the husband can't just take off of work for me. And we don't have the disposable income like he does to hire help. Because he doesn't pay the bills at his house. His mother-in-law does. Because it's her house.
And of course it's only me doing the visiting. He hasn't visited at all. Doesn't even want to. Doesn't care. My parents have, but then blamed me for all the money he had to spend coming out here. How is that my fault? I'm just so tired of it. I just wanted to be treated like the respectable adult I am. To have family that actually loves me instead of abuses me. I don't know why I even bother trying any more.
Oh, and can't wait for that phone call from dad yelling at me about it too. Cause my brother will tell him, and so then he'll call to yell and blame me, telling my dad some twisted story that didn't even happen right. Like last time.
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