Thursday, May 28, 2009
I have rage issues. Seriously. I want to punch my psycho step-sister in the face. Right. In. The. Face.
She puts the pictures of my kids in a drawer, and is still bringing in picture of her family - pictures taken in 2000. Stupid bitch.
She brought in a cheap-ass calendar from MacQuarries, and covered up the calendar that the nursing home put up. Stupid bitch.
She threw away my father's Werthers candy, and replaced them with sugar-free candy. He is not diabetic. Stupid bitch.
She bought Dad a book, he can't read it. The print is too small. Stupid bitch.
Sooner or later, I have no doubt that our paths will cross and there will be an eruption of ginormous proportions. I think I have remained silent for just about as long as I possibly can.
Poor Dad. He still doesn't have a sweet clue who she is. The other day, a nurse had to ask her to leave because she was getting him so agitated with her stupid questions. When will she get it? She hasn't been in the picture for so long, and now she's playing the good daughter?! Stupid, stupid, stupid bitch.
The only bright spot - just about everytime she's there, Dad asks her where we are - especially hubby. Ha. Ha. Ha. Stupid bitch. I hope that rots your socks off all the way home.
Why am I allowing this to consume me? My anger towards her seems to consume just about every waking moment of my time. I wake up in the night with headaches, because I'm clenching my teeth so bad. I avoid the grocery store that I always shop in because I don't want to run into her daughter, becuase I'm afraid of what I might say.
Now she's bringing in the other brothers - one who hasn't seen or spoken to his father for 20 years. Stupid alcoholic bastard. Another hasn't seen him in 16 years. Stupid bastard. I think at least he had brains enough to give up the alcohol after he got fired. And he had the balls to leave a note for one of the nurses saying that he was upset that his father seemed so bored.
Are you people clueless? Do you have any sort of brain in your pea-sized head? Do you really think a man with Alzheimers, who hasn't seen you for as long as 20 years, and at least 5 for the stupid bitch, is really going to know who you are? Do you even deserve to be known? Do you even have a right to show your wretched faces? How dare you all. I hate each and every one of you with every ounce of my being.
This is killing me. Never have I known such anger, and it scares me. I think really crazy thoughts sometimes. I'm actually plotting my revenge and I have my speech prepared for Dad's funeral.
I just don't know how to handle this. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew how to just let it go, like hubby says. But I can't. What gives any of them the right to come back into his life now? What gives them the right to try and sooth their guilty souls. What gives them the right to be his children.
I just don't get it.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
I have a best friend.
I feel loved, wanted, appreciated, respected, cared for. I trust him enough to tell him all the things I've never told anyone else. He trusts me implicitly as well. We both struggle, we both have fears and flaws. We accept each other with all those fears and flaws. I've shared myself completely with him and vice versa. Our feelings have deepened over the last few months, and been acknowledged.
We've been connected from day one, feeling things about each other without "knowing". And in turn, knowing what the other is feeling, doing or thinking even though we've been hundreds of miles from one another. We have a passion for one another that's sparked and grown, constantly simmering just beneath the surface. The love we've had for the other has increased since we met. I've loved him for a while now and known how he has felt about me. Recently, we talked about someday having a relationship, what we'd be like together. I made the confession that I'd been in love with him almost as long as I loved him. Recently, we've disclosed out loud that we're in love with each other.
Just one thing. I'm already in a relationship. Except I get none of these things from the current guy. He can't let me in, and can't be there for me. Without meaning to, all he's done is hurt me and ignore me. But I've stayed, trying to make it work. Being the only one trying, the only one putting any effort into this relationship is draining me.
I don't know that the relationship with the best friend would be like. I know we'd have a lot to work through. I'm realistic; I know like any other relationship, it would have it's problems.
The difference is, I know he wants to try, and I do as well. I know how he feels about me, without question, without doubt.
I want to be with him. I want to throw caution to the wind. If I have the chance to be with someone who loves me, accepts me, faults and all, makes me feel special, loved, supported, desired, trusted. Who lets me into their world, their head, their heart, why would I want to wait?
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
It was almost 10 years ago when you called me on the phone. I had been expecting to hear from you earlier that day, and when you hadn't called, I tried to call you, but to no avail. When you finally did call, I was out of breath from getting the windows open. It was a hot August day in 1999.
We had just graduated college in May. I had known you for 4 years, and we were attached at the hip for just about that whole time. We lived in the same residence hall for the first few months of school, and then I moved home and commuted. I kept in touch with you and a few others from the building, and we became fast and tight friends. We would see each other every day after class and just about every weekend. When I came out to you during our sophomore year, you were so supportive. You took me under your wing and protected me from people who tried to hurt me with their words. You were so wonderful and caring. Your parents were the opposite, and you were a "lotus flower" that grew up and out of the dingiest of conditions. Remember that night that we were parked in front of your building talking, and some jerks started throwing snowballs at us because they thought we were together? You didn't even mind being considered gay by association. And when I fell for you, you supported me, and gently reminded me that you were straight. Yet you would confuse me. You would hold my hand as we walked together, let me bite you gently on the neck once. You were too good to be true, I can see that now. We were convinced we were sisters in another life. "Soul sisters" we called ourselves, and spent countless hours talking and writing each other notes expressing our love for one another. I did all I could do for you. I typed your papers for you as you dictated them to me. Helped you get over your fear of your public speaking course. My family let you stay with us during break weeks. And when your parents couldn't come get you after the end of Junior year because your dad got hurt, my dad and I brought you and all of your stuff the 4 hour drive (one way) home. Then we turned around and came back.
Then you met him. This guy, this one you said was annoying, ugly, and not your type. All of a sudden you were dating him. The kind of macho, egotistical, arrogant man I despised. You started spending more and more of your time with him, and I understood, but was of course jealous. I tried not to let you see it, but I'm sure you could.
You had spent a week at my house visiting just before that fateful phone call. I tried to ask how you were doing, talk like we had always done. But you were different. "I can't be your friend anymore," you said. The words cut through me like a knife and knocked the wind out of my chest. "What?" I said, stifling tears. "Look, I can't talk to you anymore, I don't want to." Click. You hung up on me. In the 4 years I knew you, you had never treated me that way, never hung up on me. And when I called back, he answered. Told me not to call you again. Told me this was not easy for you, but you had to do it. Why? That was my only question, but he hung up on me too. And then I threw up. I was convinced it was him, so I did try to call you again a few days later, and when I got you to answer, you hung up on me again and I knew it was you. Then you had the police call my house and tell me not to call again. The officer said I could try other ways of contacting you, but don't call. I put my fist through our "best friends" picture. I packed all of the things you ever gave me into a box and I was going to send it all to you. (I still have that box, buried away in my closet). I cried for days and it took a while to pull myself back up.
But I did. I got myself an apartment, new friends, and eventually, a girlfriend. I never heard from you again. I still think about you once in a while. I heard you did the same thing to some of your other friends, and that the ones you didn't do it to saw a noticeable change in your attitude. I heard you married him.
Now, 10 years later, I am still asking myself why? What did I do? Why did I deserve to be tossed out like garbage? But most of all I ask how? How could you do that to someone you supposedly love so much?
Every once in a while I come across your picture, or a note you wrote to me, and I have the urge to rip it to shreds, but part of me still hangs onto it. Part of me still has fantasies of you showing up on my doorstep, apologizing.
I am with the love of my life now. And we have everything in the world I have ever wanted. I know I am loved, and I love her more than I have ever loved anyone. Just once in a while you pop in my head, and I wish I had the closure I so desperately needed from you 10 long years ago.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Early 2001- a thirty-three year old man, his wife, and their two kids move to a bedroom community outside of Palm Beach FL. He's a paramedic, and she finds a job sterilizing and packing surgical equipment at a local hospital. They buy a house for around $185,000.00 and get one of those peachy loans that keep the payments where they can make them, as long as they don't think about having the thing readjust in three years, or that they are paying pennies a month on the principal. As long as he keeps working a few hours of overtime a week, they are fine, just fine....
2004 – the value of their little slice of heaven has soared! When they go back to the bank to re-jiggle the mortgage before the ARM adjusts, they find out they have over $55,000.00 of equity, even though they have hardly touched the original mortgage amount. With the help of a friendly banker, they decide to take a new mortgage, for a lower 5 year rate – and a second mortgage taking $25,000.00 of their new-found equity to put in a back yard pool, fencing, and a pool house. After all, with the pool, their home is worth even more! Wow, what a great country. They can afford these new payments because he is averaging 15 hours of over-time a week, and she has gotten a couple of nice raises, and their kids deserve a nice pool - and a nice vacation to ski in Colorado.
2007 – The company he works for cuts over time hours to nothing, but he finds a second job as a gate guard in one of those exclusive communities – they pay premium for guards with medical skills, but the commute is hard on his 4 year old car. His wife develops medical problems of her own, and has to cut her hours to 20 per week. With no savings, they are being buried by not only the house, but the rest of the consumer package they have bought into: a car loan, credit card debt, and two teens in private school. Wife goes back to work 40 hours a week, against her Dr.'s advice to keep the family from drowning. They make a big decision: They will sell the house. They call a Realtor, and are shocked that the home that they are carrying about $210,000.00 of debt on is only worth about – wait for it - $190,000.00 , and they may have to discount it to about $180,000.00 to get anything like a fast sale. They buy a new SUV to make themselves feel better.
2009 – They didn't sell the house, and are nearing foreclosure. He inherited $15,000.00 last summer and it helped them dig out of some of their debt, and staved off the hounds for a few months, but they also took a really nice vacation – all this stress in their lives, they deserved it, didn't they? This time it is diving in the Bahamas. They return with some really awesome pictures. Now, they hope and pray they will be first in line for some of this mortgage reduction, foreclosure stopping, stimulating, government bail-out money. Their house is worth less now than when they bought it in 2001. Life isn't fair! No it isn't. Certainly, when their mortgage does it's 5 year thing in a couple of months, the bank will give them a break, with government cash. Yes. We. Can.
I am his sister. My Husband and I worked hard, bought a house we could afford, stayed out of debt, saved for retirement, put our son through college, drove old cars, lived modestly, and enjoyed life. In the past 8 years, from the outside you would have guessed my brother's family's income to be much higher than ours. In truth? We make at the very least $25,000.00 a year more.
Our responsible financial behaviour? Taxed To Death, Investments in the toilet – but we'll be OK. We've made plans, and will be able to take care of ourselves.
His irresponsible behaviour? Rewarded as the sanctioned Way of American Life. He'll get to 'write it off' and have another chance - and another, and another. He's pretty smug about that. But he called me today and asked for a loan - seems his daughter might have to miss her Senior trip - He doesn't have a credit card left with $800.00 left in the credit line. Would I be a dear and send it to her? As a graduation gift?
Sorry, I love my niece, but I'm more sorry you are using her for a pawn. She'll probably call me from college next fall desperate for books. I'll send money then. If I had my choice, the f'ing whiney braggart would be living in a 800sf apartment and forced to use cash for the rest of his life for being stupid – and made to pay back every last dime.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
My mother. How do I describe my mother?
I am nearing 25, happily married to a wonderful man and a new mother to a baby girl that is the center of my world. I have a 16 year old sister who still lives with our mother, alone. The two of them live together in the charming small town I graduated high school from, while my sister attends a Christian private high school - totally different from my own upbringing.
My mother is someone that I can no longer recognize. The last time we spoke was December 24th, 2004, when I told her on the phone that I was engaged. She told me that I was stupid, irresponsible, she wanted nothing to do with this, and that I had no business getting married. Granted, I was only 20 years old, but I was responsible, being as I had been on my own since two weeks after I turned 18; self-sufficient and still in college.
She has never had a successful, happy relationship, and I think she was jealous. She suffers from severe depression, is bipolar, and I believe an alcoholic. She divorced my stepfather, my sister's father, in 2001, and he died in 2002. Their marriage was certainly never the stuff of romance novels - he was a cocaine addict, consistently had affairs throughout their nine-year marriage, and lived with us probably only for a total of a year during that time. Thusly, she was damaged, angry, and broken.
She is an angry, violent, bitter person. She took out her wrath on me during my childhood with belts, fists, and words. I spent at least a third of my life either recovering from bruises or "you are so worthless, I never should have kept you". I spent years in therapy, with the idea that I would be able to recover from the damage my mother and stepfather's marriage had inflicted on me, but we always seemed to spend the time discussing my mother's dysfunction instead.
My sister is now caught in the crossfire. She is nearing her 17th birthday, and does not acknowledge publicly that she has a sister. I believe she is brainwashed to say these things to the people around her; that if my mother ever heard her admit my existence, she would suffer the same fate as I. Recently, I received a phone call from one of my mother's brothers, a dear man that I don't know well as a result of his estranged relationship with her. He told me, reluctantly, that my sister had gone to a party with some friends from school, decided to experiment with alcohol, and had gotten drunk. A male friend from school attacked and raped her.
She is a Type 1 diabetic, and ended up in intensive care after the attack from diabetic ketoacidosis, in and out of a comatose state. My mother is enraged. She has called my sister every name she can think of, and has told her repeatedly that it was her fault. My sister is on virtual lockdown and does not even think without permission.
Consequently, I am thisclose to purchasing a plane ticket and flying out to my home state to see her. My husband and I want custody of her, but it will be difficult securing and paying for an attorney five states away, plus, my mother will undoubtedly pull out all the stops to fight me every step of the way.
I do not know how to deal with this woman any longer. I had every intention of calling her, finally, after the birth of my daughter six weeks ago, to share the wonderful news with her that she had a grandchild. But that same day was the day I recieved this news, and my heart has grown colder towards her. I no longer believe I can ever have a positive relationship with this woman ever again, particularly not as long as she tries to not only keep my beloved sister from me, but that she works to damage her as she did me.
I've wanted for years to have an intact family unit and to have not brought this darkness down on my husband's family, but thankfully they are wonderful, forgiving, lovely people who do not judge me based on my familial background. They are my family now, and I love them wholeheartedly.
My question is, is it even feasible or realistic to ever hope to have a relationship with my mother ever again, and is it even more unrealistic, if not, to fight for my sister's life? I am willing to sacrifice my relationship permanently with my mother to save my baby sister and bring her here to me.
I welcome any and all advice.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
What you are doing is not fair. I know - life is not fair - but what you are doing is just offensive to me as a mother and as a woman and it’s plain wrong.
I married you when I was a silly little girl - just doing what I was told - but divorcing you filled me with a furious need to never be ’silly’ again. To never be disregarded or ignored or insignificant again. I have long since nullified my resentment of you because I am not sure I would like a person that hadn’t learned all those lessons you taught me. All the strength that leaving you brought me - the bull-headed determination that still stamps itself on my face when someone tells me that I can’t do something, or raises a hand to me, or dares to act as if I am ‘insignificant’.
But your absence from our son was never excused. Make no mistake; I have never, and will never, speak ill of you to him, but I will never lie to him, either. I waited and waited for you to start being his father. I knew that Washington had nothing left for me - but I stayed - just in case you would decide to be in his life. I put my world on hold and I did not move on or do anything for myself because I never ever wanted to give you another excuse for why you just couldn’t make him significant enough. I waited for 8 years for you to make just one move closer to him. One. And you didn’t. I all but begged you - no, I did beg you to be in his life - and you simply said ‘no’.
So I left. I left because while I was busy trying to force you to not make my son feel insignificant and unimportant - your behavior began to highlight that fact and make it throb. So I took him and we left to find a better life. And we did. We found a wonderful life filled with love and compassion and family and no one ever feels left out or small. He has brothers and sisters and a man in his life that would never hurt him or his mom. And he was healing. I know that no amount of a mothers love can ever fill up the hole that being abandoned by a father leaves - but he was healing, and the wounds that you left became only bruises and they didn’t bleed like they did when you simply said ‘no’.
And then, lo and behold, because you just can’t just let people heal, you showed back up. Talking about video games and cars and all the things that a boys his age think dads talk about. With no explanation of why your face was not familiar to him or why your voice did not sound like home to him. With no reasoning or apology or anything to explain why you refused to exist for so long - nothing but expensive electronics and promises of a car when he turns 16 and BAM! You are a hero - you can do no wrong.
My son is caring and loving and considerate - but when he comes home from your house, he is mean. My son would never hurt his mom’s feelings - he knows what struggles we went through -he remembers . But when he comes home from your house he makes fun or our life - he belittles our home and he tries to makes it seem insignificant. That is not ok.
And now - you think he belongs to you. Now you think that all if takes is your money and your lawyer and you big words and you can just take him away. You think that it’s ‘your turn’. You think that you can just make demands on me and my family and we have to just lie down -like before- and that you’ll get whatever you want because you are ‘the man’ and what you say goes but you are wrong in so many ways.
I will fight with you. I will play your stupid game. I will go to court and I will break your ‘rules’. I say whatever I need to say and I won’t smile pretty this time. Did your brother ever find out all those things you told his wife? Did your mom ever find out why you really spent that time in jail when we were married? How about your wife - is she aware of your how you feel about other men? Or does she just ignore that - like I wouldn’t?
I will fight you for my son and he will stay with me. And no, I will not be covering ‘all the costs’ you incurred because I moved out-of-state. I simply say ‘no’. And if you want to play dirty and remind me that life is not fair - then I will do that too. I am not above hitting below the belt - and you should know that, going in.
My son will not be insignificant or unimportant- and you are not allowed to use him to try to alleviate your insignificance and unimportance. I raised him. I cried for him when he hurt and held him when he cried for you. I answered the hard questions and none of them ever had anything to do when an X-Box or an IPod. I built my whole world around him not hurting - so you are not allowed to come in and try to push it all over.
You are not important. You are not significant. You are not a dad- you are just another struggle that he will remember having to go through - I know that, because I know you - and I know you can’t endure anything that is real - and you will disappear again. And I know that you will blame it on me for fighting with you- and that’s ok too.
Just go - I’ll play your stupid game, and I’ll pick up all the pieces and put him back together, I always do, just go.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Posted by Anonymous.
I knew this would happen. I feared it. Everyone would have thought I was crazy. I once told a friend (who turned out to not really be a friend) about this fear. And he did tell me I was crazy. I never confided in him again.
There just isn’t enough love.
There were many reasons I had for deciding not to have children when I was in college. One of the most important/ main reasons was that I feared not having enough love.
However, after quite a lot of time & thinking (&thinking&thinking), I did decide that my love for my husband was enough- and I wanted to show him that I love him. So I decided that I did want to have a baby. (And I did want to)
Turned out, I liked being pregnant. (Another fear was that it would be horrible!!!)
I never got sick & felt pretty good most of the time. I was a little tired in 1st trimester; and again when I was rather large. I had a relatively uncomplicated pregnancy.
Of course I feared labor (another reason). Rightfully so.
I won’t bore you with the labor story.
Well, she came. She was big. She was heavy. And she was adorable. But about a week or 2 after coming home, she became fussy. Needy. Demanding to be held. All day long.
Not great timing; my husband’s job was oh-so-stressful at this time.
He feels he has to take care of everything/everyone. So he had work stress & would come home to screaming. And the “kitty cats” needed attention. It was a very very stressful time. And nobody had any good advice. We got so sick of hearing “it’ll get better”… nobody told us what to do RIGHT NOW.
So not the best start.
He had asked me when she was, I dunno, 3 weeks old or so if I loved her.
I broke down in tears because all I could say was “I don’t know”. I knew I would probably come to love her. But again with the whole “unconditional love”… I needed to get to know her.
Now she’s 5months old and I have come to love her. It didn’t take very long, actually. But it’s still quite stressful at times.
My husband worked from home for the past 2 months. Which made it difficult when she cried. If I couldn’t quiet her quick enough, I felt the added stress from him.
Basically with all this worry about love, I never thought about not having enough love for him anymore.
Things in this house are getting pretty bad. It’s no fun to be around us at all; and I wonder if she’s picking up on this.
I guess somehow I knew there was only room for one love. I just never expected to fall out of love with my husband. He’s about to come home from a 2week business trip.
I’m sorta dreading it. Again, a 14hour travel time to come home will be stressful for him. And to be faced with needy cats & a young baby who may/may not recognize him…
God I wish he’d learn to deal with his stress. Because it is tearing me apart.
I spoke to him openly before getting pregnant (and during) about being sure to love each other above all others. I grew up never thinking my parents loved each other, and it bothers me still. I want to show our daughter a better way to grow up. Now I don’t know how.
He was the greatest husband.
Until he became a father.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Dear everyone in my family,
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Background: i met my dad via facebook, (seriously), after finding his mother after a 13 year search. after a month of small talk he told me that my mother raped him and that i was a product of the years of horror that ensued. my parents were both teenagers and he was gone before my birth, never to be seen or heard from again. i am still in contact with his family who have welcomed me with open arms.i posted this on my blog for a minute and then took it off because i didn't want the new family who still talked to me to get offended, as they read my blog. in fact, i have been so depressed about this incident i haven't been in the mood to blog at all. i need some constructive criticism on how to get over this from an unbiased perspective.
i am upset and confused! who are you? and what makes it so?
this is why i erased your family from facebook so i wouldn't have to "see" you going on about your life without me. i liked it better when i didn't exist to you invisibly. every time i see your name i get younger and younger. but your family doesn't take no for an answer. i suspect you know this already.
i've talked a lot mostly to mary and anne and tania sometimes too. craig sent me a message only once that my showing up renewed his faith that his own daughter might find him someday. i told him not to leave it to faith and to pick up the flippin phone already! but not in so many words. but still he never wrote back. what is it about you men and the indifferent abandonment of your daughters? why is it up to the daughters to come to you?
can i think you're a big jerk? isn't that part of the natural progression of things? can i think that you are just being stubborn? because i am way more than anyone on my side and i assumed it came from you. and i've always had a way of making things happen. i just decide its time for change and so i do.
but i'm at a loss here. can i say that you are being a coward? because you hear something you don't like you delete my face from your book? but you can still hear me i know you can hear me. i'm pretty loud after all. and i have a lot of things to say that you probably won't like. but tough titties and too bad for you because this is supposed to be unconditional, asshole. can i call you asshole? no, i guess that's not very nice.
then what am i supposed to call you? dennis? who's dennis?
how many chances are you going to get to be somebody's dad?
how many more years do you think i will wait for you to swallow your pride?
because it is pride. i'm not a stupid woman. i'm a lot of things but i'm not stupid. and i know you are not stupid. everything that comes out of your mouth is a college thesis. i know you were smart as a teen too. i read the letter you sent my mom when i was very young. i know you sent her a message through facebook and signed it "hugs." so what gives? thats all i was asking for. for a friggin box with her face in it to be in your list of people you know. say merry christmas. there's a difference between tea and crumpets and an internet forum. p.s. its doubtful she wants your stupid ugly crumpets but that's not the point. she sent you the requests as a courtesy to me, as my mother who loves me, not so she could keep tabs on you. you're so vain, you probably think this friend request is about you?
i could care less if you are friends with my mother. but don't make me the sum of 30 years of woes. that pisses me off. be accountable, as begrudgingly as it may be, for the act of creating a human being. you don't even have to be accountable for your absence. we'll get to that later. don't be an asshole. be a dad. the hard part is over with. but dont try to lead me to believe you had the latin interpretation of an uvula floating around in your head, but didn't know about the birds and the bees. dont try to bullshit me, kay? don't make me go through the rest of my life believing that you think i am something that HAPPENED to you. don't make me the scab on all your old wounds. you know the biggest wounds have to heal from the inside out.
but whatever. i'm trying to be indifferent to your tantrum. i know it doesn't seem that way to you and you want to feel like you are being just and right, but you're not, dad. you are behaving badly. cause this is not all about you. it may have been then, but its not now. your blood is part of me and its part of my kids. so stop being such a baby okay.
what are the influences playing a part in this? don't they teach you morals and values in Bible school? WWJD and whatnot? isn't loving your heavenly father supposed to include loving your fellow man and doing right by people? you know like family? like daughters and grandchildren? aren't we included in your quest to be a better man? don't you think this is something to resolve on your spiritual journey? do you want to be old and look back on these moments and be heavy with regret? if you don't feel heavy hearted about this you are lying to yourself. you seem too genuinely good a person to in good conscience lay the memory of me down to die.
don't get me wrong. i am not chasing you down. i am not rushing into your arms with my pigtails held out by the wind. i'm not sending you pictures emblazoned with gold stars to hang on your fridge. i am pissed at you now, but not hateful. i wish you would change your mind, but it won't destroy me as a person if you dont. but i'm not letting you walk away from me for a second time, thinking you are doing whats best for me. thinking that your absence is out of respect for my wishes. you're not getting off the hook that easy.
i don't want your money. i have no idea if you even have any. i dont want to displace anyone you love or otherwise. i don't want to disrupt your life. i want an apology. "gee, sorry you had to go your whole life without me, but i'm here now." and guess what that's not even a college thesis.
so here i am now in my new house, surrounded however abstractly by hawaii. why is there no memphis? no fair you get to haunt me via internet, but all i get is a cold shoulder and a blue and white generic facebook sillouette.
but hey, you do what you need to do. i wont be bothering you anymore. but if you choose to stay in nowhere land in regards to my life, do it on your own conscience. dont let this be a memory where you get to be the noble knight rescuing the damsel from distress. if you want out, you better have the balls to admit to yourself why and own it. time doesn't go backwards as you know.
p.s. i got this tell-it-how-i-see-it attitude from you by the way. of all the genetics to trickle down, you couldnt have given me some piano skills or multilingual skills. you had to pass down bitchitude.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
There has been something on my mind that I wanted to talk to you about. Perhaps I should do it in person, but I know I will not be able to accurately and appropriately convey the information I need to convey so I figured I would convey it in writing in order to get my thoughts down.
First, I am glad that you are feeling better and getting to the point where you can go about your regular schedule. It's good to see you doing well.
I also wanted to let you know that we you and are here for you if you need to talk or hang out or anything.
Now to the two things that are not easy for me to bring up but that have been on my mind. I feel I would be doing our friendship a disservice if I did not bring these things up.
First, I have been thinking about your ex. I know I asked you the other night if you had told him about your recent HIV diagnosis and I couldn't tell whether or not you intended to tell him in the near future. However, I feel that ethically you should. I know the doctors told you when you contracted the virus, but one thing I have learned through my work, my psychology degree, and the need to see many types of doctors (OB/GYN, Primary, Dentist, Oral Surgeon, Pediatrician, Surgeon, Osteopathic doctor, Reproductive Endocrinologist, etc.) is that doctors, tests, and technologies are often incorrect/inaccurate in particular if they are new. Because of this I think it would be wise of you to tell him as soon as possible and encourage him to get tested. With all tests (even old, well-known ones like pregnancy tests) there is always a chance of error and inaccuracy. In fact, I called the CDC and was told that there is no test to determine when you contracted HIV as you have told us. For this reason, I think you should err on the side of caution for his and your sake and have him get tested.
The second thing I wanted to bring up, and this is hard for me, is certain habits that we as a group have that I feel may need to slightly change. I have always prided myself in being a level-headed, educated, and compassionate person when it comes to HIV. When you first told us that you may have the virus I did research on the tests available for detecting the virus, the percentage of chance that the test would come back false, and I refreshed myself on some of the methods of transmitting the virus. One of the things that comes to my mind is sharing drinks, food utensils, or essentially saliva swapping. In general, what I read says you cannot transmit HIV by sharing drinks or utensils. However, those same sources (such as the CDC) go on to say that in theory transmission is possible if one person has some portion of blood in their mouth and the person they share a drink with has an open wound. The language used on these sites also leaves room for the possibility of transmission in this manner but states it is unlikely.
For myself I think the chances are remote and I am not concerned. But I guess because I am a mom now I feel the need to be overly cautious (even if irrationally so) with my two year old son, K. I have to be honest and let you know that the other day when you came over to the house for the inauguration I was disappointed, scared, and upset. I was upset by the fact that you let K drink out of your water glass. I don't know if you noticed but K commonly picks at his upper lip and at times pulls the skin off which causes an open wound from which he bleeds. Also, it is common that we as human beings have some portion of blood in our mouths either from toothbrushing, cheeck biting, eating hard foods, or general canker sore types of things. For this reason, I think it is best not to share drinks with the kids. It may sound strange but for some reason I can think about the rational remote odds of something happening should I share a drink and dismiss it quickly. But I can't do that with the kids as I don't know what I would do if for some reason one of them became the first documented case of transmission through drink sharing no matter how remote the chances were.
I know the chance of contracting HIV in this manner is remote, but I would expect that when it comes to K (and eventually my nine week old son), we would all want to err on the side of caution in this type of situation. Especially because most articles I have read (at least the ones that look as if there was some scientific research involved) make statements saying "transmission is unlikely" but "possible in theory". I would also think that as a person living with the disease you would certainly want compassion, but at the same time you would want to take extra precautions to ensure that you did not do anything that may put someone else in harms way no matter how remote the chance.
I'm not sure how you will take this letter. We still love you, want to hug you and kiss you, and be your family. Because of that I had to share this with you as I didn't want to get bitter and upset for feeling like you were being irresponsible and negligent when it came to K's protection. I didn't want it to be something I worried about that would eventually cause distance between us. So as hard as it is to bring it up I felt I had to.
I'm sorry you have to deal with this.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Okay, so I work at a job that I love. It's close to home, my hours are flexible, my boss is my best friend. The problem? Her children. I mean, never in my life have I dealt with such horrid little people in my life. It is so awkward because not only am I dealing with my best friend's kids, it's also the boss's kids. It's a no win situation.
I have huge issues with people who do not discipline their children in any way shape or form. You are not doing ANYONE any favors by letting these beasts get away with what they do, my friend! I mean, your youngest is a thief who steals money not only from the cash register but also the deposit bags! Do you punish him? No. Do you make sure that it doesn't happen again? No. You gently tell him not to do it. THIS is one of the main reasons I do not invite you in to my home. I do not wish to be robbed.
Your middle child is a slob. She is continually dirty, disrespectful and in general, not pleasant to be around. The fact that she continually interrupts our every conversation for no reason other than to hang on you and have the attention focused on herself, is utterly annoying. Do you ever tell her that we are having a private conversation and ask her to wait? No!
Your eldest child is the worst. She, too, is a slob. Her whole demeanor is slovenly. Please teach her how to dress and walk! She does not need to be given a job sitting behind the desk. She is 13 years old and needs to actually move her fat ass a bit! The way that she speaks to me and other adults is appalling! She is not an adult. She is not entitled to be in adult conversations. Her superiority complex is a disgrace for someone her age. Her attitude that "This is my parents store and I'll do what I please" is disrespectful not only to me and all of the customers who come in here, but you should see this as disrespectful to YOU! Because she is representing you and when people see a fat, lazy, foul mouthed brat behind the desk, they do not want to come back!
My final straw was this weekend while at your middle child's birthday party. Your 13 year old shoved me repeatedly, insulted me, grabbed at me and was just constantly offensive and you laughed with her and said she was just joking! No, she wasn't! This is your child's normal behavior and it is horrific. I cannot even stand the sight of her and am praying that I find another job just so that I do not have to see HER anymore.
Instead of making excuses for these ill-mannered, horrid people, how about teaching them some manners? Instead of rewarding them with candy, snacks and sodas how about making them take responsibility for their behavior and punishing them? I don't want to lose our friendship but the constant strain of being around your children makes me want to have nothing to do with you. Your husband once thanked me for befriending you. Maybe you'd have more friends if you tamed these children in to being normal, respectful human beings.