I Want My A/C

My family has been enduring one of those things that could break a lot of people.  August in Alabama with no air conditioning.  That might not seem so bad if you live in one of those oddball places where summer temperatures never get over 80°F, but in Alabama, even in the northern parts, August is known as one of the most brutal months of the year.  It is always hot, and it is usually humid.  Right now, at 8:49PM, with the sun having been down an hour, the temperature outside is almost 83°F.  That 83° is about 20° cooler than it is inside my house.

The last window air conditioner that had a working compressor quit doing anything more than blowing air about 3 days ago.  Before that, it had been making this God-awful sound for a few weeks.  My mom called a handyman to see if they could install a “new” one (one that was purchased a while back, but never installed) and they said that they could for $200.  Since our family lacks the ability to pay that $200, we’re not getting an air conditioner put in.  We would ask for help from the church, but as I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, we wouldn’t expect anyone to actually end up helping.  My mom tried asking CASA if they could do it, but apparently that is yet another community outreach project that they “no longer do” because of lack of volunteers.

So, we sit in the heat.  We go through all of the ice that is made and use up the ice packs fairly quickly every day.  It isn’t really a pleasant experience. It’s made even more unpleasant by my overheating issues and the fact that I can’t seem to eat anything that is above (normal) room temperature while it is so hot.  Basically, I get to have water and crackers all day.  Fun, right?

I’m hoping it either cools off soon, which would be a miracle, or we find someone who can help us get a window unit in.  We don’t have a central unit because it never worked for more than a few months at a time.  So, as a kid, it was getting fixed every single summer.  I’m almost tempted to call my Nana and ask her if I can please come stay at her house, where there’s A/C.  Of course, that house has no internet and very few channels on the television.  I would get to read and to sleep, and that’s about it.  Of course, I would get to do it with cool air blowing on me.  That might be worth missing the internet and television.

Ugh.  Just found out that I might get to participate in yearly (or more often) drug testing because I happen to receive Medicaid.  Apparently, I might be one of those people who does drugs.  Oddly, according to the bill, if I were a resident of the penal system (prison), then I wouldn’t have to have the test.  Apparently, prisoners who receive health care from the state aren’t likely to be on drugs, which is nuts since, in some prison systems, around 1000 incidents involving drugs occur every single year.  I know you can’t keep prisoners from receiving health care, but it seems like proposing taking away their health care if they got caught with drugs would help the state’s finances more than doing drug tests on every person who doesn’t reside in a facility for criminals, the mentally ill, or the elderly.  So, I get to have the tests done in order to keep my insurance. Not to worry, there were more dumb bills introduced to the state legislature this session.

Oh, I’m curious about something. I’ve noticed that there is a repeat reader to the site (actually to more than one) from Guntersville and Albertville.  Now, that wouldn’t set off any alarm bells expect that they seem to use the search function on here.  They also seem to come on a weekly basis, so it is making me a little worried.  I’m thinking that it is a particular family member checking up on me on behalf of a certain relative, or it might be a friend of that relative.  Anyway, if it is anyone from my family or checking for my aunt, cousin-in-law, cousin, etc., then I would like to say something to them (and you can tell them to visit the site, since their IP addresses are no longer blocked and hasn’t been for a few months now):

You haven’t trusted me since the first incident in 2002.  You told me what I could and couldn’t post about, and you thought that was fair, even though I never identified who I was actually talking about and never said anything that wasn’t true about you.  What I said in January (about the possibility that he might be at increased likelihood of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder because people who have a predisposition for those disorders have an increased chance of getting them after being given ADHD medicine) is true.  It is possible that he is already exhibiting signs of either of those disorders and it isn’t being picked up on by some folks.  I’ve noticed something about him that reminds me a lot of me at that age, and my mom has said the same thing about him reminding her of what she was like as a child.  Both of us had our first psychotic/delusional and depressive episodes before his age, and you might think that you would notice that about him, but if you’ve never had those experiences at that age, then you wouldn’t know what to look for.  He is a smart and wonderful child, and I worry about him.  I worry about him more than you probably realize, and it isn’t in some creepy way.  It is an anxiety that he will become like mom and me.  It is an anxiety that this child who has already gone through a hell of a lot as a kid will suffer from mental illness for his adult life.

Of course, none of you seemed to be angry about my worries about him.  No, you were upset by my saying that one of you in particular would have a hissy fit.  (Oddly, your response to my entry was to have a hissy fit.)  Why did that, of all things, upset you?  Why did it upset you that I find it ridiculous that everyone else in the world can talk about him without you getting pissed off, but if I even mention him or you, I end up getting a hateful phone call from you?  You had a blog, right?  You got to talk about him.  I guess that’s your right as his mom.  Well, I’m his cousin.  I’m one of those people who actually talks to him during family get-togethers.  I watched him create that cat out of LEGO blocks over Thanksgiving, while everyone else thought he was copying something.  He is such a wonderful kid, and I see that spark of creativity in him that could help him change the world.  The bad thing is that I know that that spark is tied to horrible anxiety, depression, psychosis, impulsive behaviors, etc.  I also know that even though you will say that you’ll be there for him, and I hope that you are there for him, you will never understand what it is like to be so different from the rest of the world.  And not understanding that could be bad for him, so I worry.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe he won’t end up with the family mental health issues, but if I’m right, then what do you plan to do about it?  What do you plan to do, when you don’t know how to deal with this kind of thing?

I’m still disappointed in the behavior of those involved in this whole thing.  And I’m very disappointed that one of you thinks that the only thing you have to do when your sister nearly dies is to send her a card that says that you’ve heard she hasn’t felt well.  That is the only contact that you have made over any of her times in the hospital, having surgery, etc.  Any contact between you, besides that card, has been from her calling you.  We don’t have long distance service, which means that calling you costs a lot of money.  You know that we don’t have money.  You do know that, right? You do realize that she can’t afford to call you, but that I get to hear about how she misses you.  That’s always fun.  I get to take care of her, do a lot of her primary care-giving (duties shared with my dad), lose sleep over her surgeries and her health, lose sleep in general by having to stay in the living room instead of sleeping in a bed, etc. for around 2 or 3 years, but no matter what I do, I get to hear about how she missed you.  I get to get lectured because I don’t do things right, which makes me think that she thinks you would do things right.  And that pisses me off because you won’t even call her.  You won’t sacrifice 5 minutes to call the only sister that you will ever have, but somehow you’re the relative that she wants to talk to.  So, if you actually care about her, then you do the decent thing and you talk to her, because I cannot put up with her missing you anymore.  And if you choose to send another card, then don’t say that you were told she was sick by your mom.  You know that Nana would have told you that she was sick multiple times over the past few years, so it seems strange to say that you just decided that now was the perfect time to send a card.  You don’t have to tell her it was me.  You don’t have to mention me at all.

Finally, if you guys don’t like that I talk about my life, including you on here, then don’t read what I say.  I said as much to one of you.  And when I say this, I mean you shouldn’t read it and you shouldn’t have a person read it and relay it back to you.  You have the opportunity to talk about me to anyone.  If I piss you off, you can tell your friends or one another, but none of you have respected the fact that this blog is my way of telling my friends what is going on.  It is my way of dealing with the stress in my life that comes from what has become one of the most dysfunctional relationships I have ever had.  Yes, it is public. Yes, 6.5 billion people can read what I think about you.  That might upset you, but think about it this way:

  1. How many of the people who read this site know you?  How many do you know?  How many are going to be able to pick out who I’m talking about?  Most people who come to this site come from the Uniontown (PA) area or from New York City, Edinburgh, Strongsville (OH), Washington D.C., Olney (MD), Chita (Russia), San Antonio (TX), and Los Angeles (CA).  You might know the ones from DC & Maryland, but I doubt it.
  2. How many people do you talk to about your personal life?  How many of them do you tell details that might be embarrassing?  Since the majority of those people live in the same area, is it possible that you might ever talk about someone you know to someone they know and end up embarrassing that person?  Isn’t it more likely that talking directly to people from this area would result in some kind of embarrassing moment?   So, isn’t it ridiculous that you want me to not talk about you where people who don’t know you, won’t meet you, and will never have any impact on your life happen to come?

Original Article

About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.