Thursday, July 1, 2010

नेगातिविटी Begone

I have a father who is possibly not getting better, and he won’t tell anyone if he’s feeling worse or not. I have a brother who is now staying with me, can’t find a job, and won’t pick up after himself. He’s taking over my house. I have a boyfriend who wants me to kick said brother out, or something along those lines. I have enough to worry about. I don’t need any more negativity.
I am drowning, and I feel like I haven’t got a friend in the world right now. It sucks. I know people care about me, but no one can help me. I have to fix this myself, and it sucks. I am tired of carrying the weight of the world (as I see it) on my shoulders and all I get from people is what I’m doing wrong. I don’t care what you think anymore. I’m doing the best I can with what I have. If you can’t say nice things to me, or pray for me, then don’t do anything. Just stop.
I am sick of people being nice to my face, then talking about me behind my back like I am a horrible person. I do things for others all the time. I buy them things, give money, take care of their kids because they didn’t pay their bills. NO MORE! The bank of Rebecca is closed.
Yes, I realize I have dated the same man for nine years. Yes, he is probably never going to marry me. You think I don’t know that? Jeez. I may be blind in one eye, but I’m not STUPID, contrary to popular belief. Live your own life, let me muck up my own. It’s bad enough already. I don’t need any more help.
I am just sick of it all. I want to scream, and I can’t. I want to hit something, and I can’t. I have to sit here like a good girl and act like I have it all together, when in truth, we are so close to losing our house, it’s not even funny. Don’t tell me I don’t know the seriousness of my situation…I know it all too well. I can’t sleep at night because I know it.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Life as I see it

I was a dork in school.  I assume I still am one.  I have always been different and some people just don’t like differences.  I was/am overweight, read entirely too much fiction, avoid the sun (although in retrospect, that’s probably a good thing), and tended to avoid people in general.  I had my circle of friends, but they all were friends of my boyfriends at the time.  Once the relationships ended, usually the friendships did as well.

Now I struggle to have friends.  I had friends in school who I should have cherished and treated so much better.  I didn’t.  I let them walk away, and I should have held on, at their ankles if necessary, to keep them from leaving me.  Luckily, I have been reconnecting with old friends and acquaintances.  Not everyone likes me, I am sure, and I struggle to make sure I don’t fall into my old habit of trying to buy friendships buy doing things, being the way I think they want me to be, etc.  I was a doormat.   No longer.

I am going to stay a dork.  A geek.  A nerd.  I will wear that mantle proudly and I will strut my stuff in my geekdom.  I will be myself, and if they can’t handle it, there’s more where they came from. 

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Random Musing

So it’s Thursday.  I have worked 6 to 5 for the past two weeks.  I am super excited for this weekend, as I am off until Wednesday.  I am unsure what my schedule will look like, but I hope I continue to rake in the hours.  I really need the money.

I am concerned about Daddy’s insurance lapsing, and if that happens, I don’t know if they will be able to get coverage elsewhere.  I want the chemo to work and to stomp this in the mud.  I wish there was something I could for him.  I am always fixing things in my family, and this being helpless sucks monkey balls.  I wish there were easy answers, and there aren’t any. 

Thursday, April 29, 2010

My Two Moms

From the time I was around 12 to about 14, I lived in eight different homes.  I had a reputation for being a difficult child.  Yeah.  I was.  My mother was schizophrenic and an undiagnosed one at that.  Imagine waking up with your MOM standing over you with a knife saying the voices are telling her to kill you.  That’d mess up anybody.

So, I was lucky, and ended up in a foster home when I was 14, and stayed there until graduation.  They loved me and even though I wasn’t ‘legally’ adopted, I was/am theirs.  For a long time, I avoided my mother.  I was ashamed and scared of her.  I didn’t want to be associated with the crazy lady.

I regret that now, because she is gone, and I can’t change anything from the past.  Once the doctors figured out her problems, they put her on medication.  It didn’t always make her stable, and she had so many medical problems that makes me wonder if the cure was worse than the disease sometimes.

The last few years of Mom’s life, I lived with her and my brother.  I am grateful that I had the opportunity to be there for her.  We settled our differences for the most part, and I helped her, I would like to think. 

They say that hindsight is 20/20.  Perhaps.  But I tend to not always remember the crappy stuff.  I remember the good stuff.  The stuff that made her mom.  Like when I was a kid, we would dance to the Stray Cats.  Or her waking me up when Madonna or Michael Jackson came on the TV.  Always making sure I had blank tapes so I could record songs off the radio because we couldn’t afford to buy the actual music.  Mom would cook chili for my birthday.  Best chili EVER.  Mom letting me dye her hair green, just because.  Letting me wear her clothes because they were cooler.  Letting me borrow her long earrings. 

I think my favorite memory of my mother is right before she got REALLY bad off.  Sixth grade.  I had to do a report on a country, and I chose France.  My mother made certain I had French food.  Anything that she could find, bleu cheese, french bread, french water (Perrier, I think).  We didn’t have money, but mom came up with it so I could have a good time with my presentation. 

My mother may not have always been the ‘best’, but she tried.  I was fortunate to get a second chance with her, and I was there when she passed.  I am fortunate to have a foster family that loves me as their own and a foster mother who was there with me when my birth mother breathed her last breath. 

So thanks.  To both of my mothers.  A person could only be so lucky to have two moms who love them unconditionally.  

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Family…

So…My brother and niece are staying with me for a little bit.  I am not used to sharing my space with anyone for an extended period of time.  Even the boyfriend goes home on Sunday’s…how the HELL am I going to deal with having three people here this weekend??!?

I love my family.  I love my brothers.  I just know what type of person I am and I have come to accept that I can be a bit grumpy when I feel like people are invading my space.  Granted, they don’t mean to do so, but I can’t help but be territorial.  It doesn’t help that they do little stuff that gets on my nerves.  Not their fault, just my being anal. 

I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in over a week.  Not their fault, really.  I just can’t sleep with people in my house.  And I wanted to get a roommate to help with bills?  I think not.  Sigh.