Tag: mom


It Never Ends

13
January

The neurologist never called back this week, so I’ve been sitting here with an ever-intensifying headache and no clue what the hell is going on.  And any time that I bring up that my head hurts or my neck hurts or that I’m worried about the results, I end up having my mom find some way to demonstrate that her pain is so much worse.  She sometimes gets into this tendency of making everything a competition.  If I talk about having some specific kind of pain, she can tell me about her experience with that particular pain (or a different type) and how it was so much harder on her.

I told her that I’d been having more problems with getting fatigued by barely doing anything and I brought up that some of this muscle fatigue had been going on for years (because it has, but I’d never really told her about some of it), and do you know her responses?  First, there was the comment that somehow she was hurting really bad (not worse than usual, though), which was followed by the comment that some of the fatigue I had was a result of my not enjoying doing certain tasks and must be because she never pushed me hard enough to do those tasks.  She basically just took something that was about me and shifted it into something that was about her and about my being lazy.

Speak of the devil! She just woke up.  And it wasn’t one of those June Cleaver-style good, sweet, wholesome greetings.  No, it was her typical greeting, which is her breakfast order.  I’m a damn waitress.   When I was a little bit snippy about getting it right away, because I was (1) I was in a lot of pain and (2) I was agitated (meaning, crying) after reading a post on an LJ community about my icon promotion technique, she got more rude about it.  She insists that it was simply a request, but if I hadn’t agreed to do it, then I know that I would have been bitched out for hours on end and I would have had to go through the whole “no one loves me” whining spree that she loves to dole out whenever anyone doesn’t acquiesce to one of her demands.

Can I please have one day in my life that doesn’t end up sucking?  Can I have a mother that actually takes into consideration that I’m tired?  Can I be able to do things that I like without having to feel bad or angry or sad or upset about it?  Because if I don’t have a good day (or even an okay one) soon, I worry that I’ll just completely give up on things.

Comment » | Family, Icons, Like So Totally Me, LiveJournal

Unintended Anxiety

7
January

My head hurts. Actually, the back of my neck and the very top part of my back is the part of my body that really hurts. I was hoping that by now I might have a full-fledged answer for why I was hurting. I was hoping that maybe the test results would be in, and the neurologist would know for sure what the hell is going on with my head, neck, and back.

I had the appointment last week to find out the results, which turned out to be a dud because the doctor had the hospital emergency that he had to deal with. He was supposed to call that evening. He didn’t. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn’t call the rest of last week. I even waited until halfway through this week, just in case he was out or backed up because of the holidays. But a couple of days ago, I got tired of waiting and made the call.

I got a call back this afternoon. It was his nurse. Apparently, he was looking at my chart, but hadn’t gotten my EEG results back until late this week. I thought that was strange because of the appointment from last week being scheduled and me being told that my results were in that day. The nurse today couldn’t tell me what the results were, even though they finally had them. I wasn’t really worried about the results until I talked to my mom.

My mom was able to trigger my inner health-related panic attack voice. She said that if the nurse couldn’t tell me the results, then she must not have been able to read the EEG. She then said that that would be due to the EEG being abnormal in some way, so I started getting nervous. I don’t think she meant to trigger that anxiety, but I have this tendency to think the worst when she makes that kind of suggestion (because she is generally right about it) and I was sitting at home by myself in a bit of a panic. (My parents left for the grocery store right after I got the call.)

When they got back, I mentioned how nervous I was. At this time, my mom said it was probably no big deal and that she didn’t mean to scare me. I don’t know that my mom understands just how much this kind of thing worries me. I’ve talked about it in therapy multiple times before, and my therapist has told me to tell my mom not to make the comments because of the heightened anxiety it causes, but I don’t feel that it is fair to make my mom stop saying random things because I have an inability to deal with the comments rationally. It isn’t like my mom is trying to upset me or hurt me or anything. If anything, I think she may be trying to prepare me.

So, now I am going to try to forget about the whole panic-related stuff and have a relatively relaxed weekend. I bet that won’t happen, though. The neurologist is supposed to definitely call by Tuesday, so I hope that that does happen. I’m not holding my breath on it, though.

Oh, and, in a somewhat related note, my mom made a list on the first of all of the things that the neurologist (or, in one case, a different neurologist that used to treat my headaches) has diagnosed me with. I was kind of surprised at the length of the list. After she made the list, which is below, she told me why she made it. Apparently, the next time that my aunt starts in on how horrible of a person she thinks I am, my mom wants some sort of proof that my life is a bit more difficult than my aunt seems to realize. I mean, my mom and Nana have both tried to convey the physical and mental stuff I deal with, along with the stuff I have to do and (sometimes) choose to do, even though I have very little energy and always feel like crap or hurt. I think it’s basically her version of a wake up call.

The List

  • Migraines (actually, 3 neurologists dx’d this)
  • Chronic Daily Headache (2 neurologists dx’d this, including 2 of the three that dx’d the migraines)
  • Dystonia
  • Essential Tremors
  • Myoclonus
  • Vertigo
  • Tarsal Tunnel Syndrome
  • Degenerative Arthritis of the Lower Spine
  • Absent reflexes in parts of my legs

I think that is everything, but I might have forgotten something. Anyway, my mom seemed shocked at the length of the list, even though I’d told her about each of the things when the doctors would tell me what I was “suffering” from. And some of the things, i.e. the tremors and the myoclonus, are things that I was told I had quite a while ago. I think the tremors were diagnosed in middle school; while the myoclonus was diagnosed a couple of years ago, even though it had been going on since I was a very, very small child.

So, now I wait to find out if that list is going to be edited…

Comment » | Confessions, Family, Sickness and Health

Pick A Day Already

10
December

It is almost Christmas, just two more weeks now, and I still don’t know when my parents and I get to go see Nana.  Apparently, my Aunt has yet to pick her day.  And since we can’t have Christmas together like a normal dysfunctional family and since, according to her, we “picked” Thanksgiving Day to spend with Nana, we can’t pick Christmas as well.

I don’t get how we picked Thanksgiving.  There is one day to celebrate Thanksgiving on and that’s Thanksgiving.  We didn’t say we wouldn’t eat with them.  That was my aunt’s decision.  And since all that we do on holidays is eat together, because they always seem like they’re ready to be somewhere else, I don’t get why we couldn’t stick food in our mouths at the same time and in the same place.  They would leave right after anyway, so I just don’t see why they can’t be grown-ups and bottle their hostilities towards us for an hour or so on two days this year.  I mean, I’ve been bottling it up (obviously) for years and they want me to continue bottling it up publicly, so why can’t they do it for two out of the 8760 hours in the year?  Apparently, that’s too much to expect.

And if we have to have separate holidays, then I think that we should get to pick Christmas.  Last year, we got snowed in on Christmas and they chose to eat lunch and open presents at my grandmother’s house on Christmas, without us.  And, according to Nana, the cousin-in-law was none-too-pleased that my parents and I weren’t willing to drive over an icy bridge, up and down an ice-and-snow-covered mountain, and down some country roads to get there in a car that’s 12 years old and didn’t even have much get-up-and-go when it was purchased, doesn’t have 4 wheel drive, and doesn’t have any winter weather gear (because this is Alabama) to celebrate Christmas with them.  Oh, and the drive would’ve been without the dogs because we haven’t been allowed to have them around this particular family member since we first got Xander.  (Odd, since they have a dog of their own now.)  So, we would’ve been leaving 5 dogs at home, without food, with a limited supply of water, and (for Willow) without their medicine.  We also would’ve had to take all of our medicine and some extra clothes with us, in case we got snowed in there.  So, I’m not exactly sure why she was upset at our not coming last year and I’m not sure how it is that they got to choose when they celebrated Christmas with Nana last year and how they get to choose it again this year.  Of course, they picked the day the family celebrated Christmas during the first few years that my cousin and his wife were married, thus leading to some issues for my family with regards to Christmas.  So, it’s always been them who gets to choose that day.  It kind of makes me feel like my family has never really been appreciated by their family.  And that’s not exactly the warm, fuzzy feeling that one should have on Christmas or at any time of the year.

It’s not like it should matter to me when we celebrate Christmas.  There are no presents to open in my immediate family, so it’s not like there will actually even be a Christmas here.  At least, not a materialistic type Christmas.  And Nana doesn’t buy presents anymore, so there won’t be anything like that from her.  So by not getting Christmas with her (again) I’m just missing out on one of the two days a year when I don’t (generally) have to cook.  Basically, I’m not getting one of my days off because some members of my family can’t put their big kid underwear on and deal with us for an hour or so.  Way to go, them.

I could easily end this by apologizing, but the more ridiculous they get with their behavior, the less I think I should.  Besides, like I’ve said many times (online and off), I haven’t said anything that I should really have to apologize for.  They’ve used the same language in conversations about other people.  Why do I have to apologize because my “conversation” is available for lots of people to read?  Their conversations are a lot more likely to be overheard by someone that could take offense than my posts are to be read by someone who would get upset.  Maybe I’m not completely competent about social mores, but how is their behavior any better than or my acceptable than mine?  How is it okay to insult or degrade people about their lives behind their backs if you’re doing it vocally, but it isn’t okay to rant about my own feelings about what goes on in my life on a website that I pay for?  Why is that okay?  Maybe whoever is reading my blog on their behalf (’cause I know they are) will be willing to have my aunt or uncle or cousin or even the in-law send me an email or something explaining that.

Sometimes I wish that I had a truly boring life.  One where my family got along and everything could be considered normal.  Then I realize that wishing for a different life won’t do any good because I’m stuck with this one.  I’m stuck in a family where our relationships are basically based on some antiquated caste system with the “better than” members not wanting to talk to or spend time with the “less than” members, where it is normal to have third parties read blog entries to find negative words and then report back about how “this” or “that” was said even when it wasn’t, where it was okay to give R-rated movies to me when I was 15 but the second I mentioned being suicidal or psychotic I started getting gifts most families would consider to be okay for a little girl, where censorship is okay when I judge but they’re allowed to spew whatever crap they want, where my dad has to get “groomed” (haircut and extra shaving) to keep them from calling him names behind his back, and where I’m told not to talk about them, but they get to lie to my only living grandparent about what I say so that maybe, just maybe she might decide to quit talking to me or loving me or something.  Yeah, that’s the family I get to have.  I should just accept it and move on.

Comment » | 10 Years of Madness, Confessions, Family, Holidays, Mental Health, My Family's Weirder Than Yours Is

You are the Silence in Between What I Thought and What I Said

25
November

Well, the computer came back today.  Yay.  It appears to be working fine.  Unfortunately, my external hard drive has to be reformatted again, so that makes me quite unhappy.  I guess I should just get used to this kind of geek-related disappointment.  So, I’m waiting on the formatting to finish.  I’m also trying to get my iPod to sync.  It keeps saying that it’s done syncing, but it hasn’t added ANY of the (1000+) songs that I spent the last couple of weeks listening to.  This is also disappointing.

In less disappointing news, I had a pretty good Thanksgiving.  Aside from my mom’s blood sugar dropping throughout the day, my getting a migraine from (of all the foods that could cause it) pinto beans, and finding out that my aunt is apparently going to get to pick what day she has Christmas with my grandmother before my parents and I get to (thus ensuring that she doesn’t have to see us), then it was actually quite good and bordering on superb.  Of course, when you factor all of that in, it knocks it down a few pegs.

I have to have blood work done sometime in the next week or so.  One of the doctors from the UAB Clinic wants to do his own hormone-research stuff to figure out why it is that I don’t get my period regularly.  Even though I’ve been diagnosed with PCOS, apparently, he feels the need to figure out what is going on.  So, good luck to him with that.  He thinks it is my thyroid, which is a theory I bet he will abandon when the blood work comes back with a low-end-of-normal reading on my thyroid function hormones.  Then he will probably give up.  If I sound convinced of this, it is because I am.  This is what always happens when doctors decide to check my thyroid.  I even told this doctor that, but he seems to think this time will be different.  (Maybe he is a bigger nut than I am.)

Oddly, right after he made the first call to find out if I had ever had the thyroid tests done, I got my period.  I was quite surprised by its appearance, since it had been many months since it had last come around.  Of course, it was very heavy, painful, and nausea-fever-and-dizziness-inducing.  It was not fun.  Of course, I don’t think it has ever been fun.  I think that it is over for now, which is odd, because I only got it for about a week and a day, but it could come back.  (Sometimes it just appears randomly a few days after it has supposedly quit.  It’s very rude like that.)

Tomorrow is the wonderful day which will test my dad’s anger management skills, aka the Iron Bowl.  I’m hoping that his ability to keep his temper in check this season will continue through the game tomorrow.  If he does, then it will be an Iron Bowl miracle.  There might even be holiday specials made in his honor if he manages it.

Comment » | Family, Geekery, Holidays, My Family's Weirder Than Yours Is, Sickness and Health

Come On Now

15
November

My mom decided to call her sister on Saturday to find out why exactly her sister’s family won’t be at Thanksgiving. It was, of course, my fault. Apparently, she is upset because she had been told that I called her an evil bitch. I didn’t remember doing this, so I decided to do a search. In the ten years that I have had this site, I have used the phrase “evil bitch” 3 times.

  • The most recent was in 2010. I referred to a psychiatrist as an evil bitch after she told me I smelled bad, even though I had showered, put on nice smelling clothes, etc. Valid use of the phrase, no?
  • The next most recent was in 2005. It was a reference to the furthest back entry where I had called a psychiatric nurse at the Mental Health Center the “Evil Bitch Monger from Hell”.

Clearly, since my aunt is not a psychiatrist or a psychiatric nurse, I didn’t call her an evil bitch.

I decided to try just evil next.

As for various forms of the word “bitch”, I said others described her decision about the separate Thanksgivings as bitchy, I described someone from the other side of the family as saying things that distressed me and led to me making bitchy responses, I mentioned an argument between my mom and me (later in the argument, my mom began talking about how awful I was vs. her sister, which led to sarcasm from me), I called myself bitchy, I called my eighth grade history teacher a bitchy person and said she was a misogynist, I described the call from my aunt’s daughter-in-law as being done to bitch me out, I described my mom’s mood swings as “incessant bitchiness” right before I first mentioned how frustrated I was about the video on the news, talking about nother bitchy psych nurse, a reference to myself, my mom calling me a bitch, saying my dad was bitchy about Farmville and Facebook, my being pissed at a former family friend, me mentioning a philosophy teacher that I felt was bitchy, and talking about the evil psychiatrist. That’s pretty much it when it comes to calling people bitchy or bitches or anything of the sort. So, technically, I didn’t call my aunt a bitch. I also didn’t call her evil.

She also said that I said that she made my life a living hell. I did accuse her of that as part of a meme I was participating in April. I spelled out my reasons for it, too, which I think she should read since apparently she has never read the actual entry. Other than that, my comments about her have been relatively mild. They have all been based on the same things that were discussed in the other post, which makes sense because we, as a family, have not dealt with the cause behind the feelings. Until we do that, the words will continue to be something that probably comes up. That isn’t a threat. It’s just part of what goes on until some kind of resolution happens.

It’s weird how she is upset over the 5 or 6 that had any negative content about her in the past year, but doesn’t realize I’ve also posted 1 where I was genuinely concerned about her after she had eye surgery, quite a few posts after Thanksgiving last year gushing about her cooking the meal, the 3 or so in the last year where I talk about missing her in some way, etc. That’s out of around 100 posts total that I’ve made on fuzzypinkslippers.com in the Family category and the 152 on the site overall the beginning of 2011. Most of the posts in the Family category refer to my mom or my dad or both. There are  probably more posts from the last year about going to court over my grass than there are about my aunt. So, I think a littler perspective might be helpful.

Now, if she wants to claim that I’ve been more harsh about her daughter in law, then that might be a legitimate issue, but…I haven’t even called her a bitch or evil.  I did accuse her of being a catalyst in tearing apart our family and of having a double standard about medications, but I didn’t even get all that vicious on her.  So really,  they need to get over it.  If what I say is causing them so much anxiety, stress or anger, then they are old enough to know how to click the little x in the corner of the browser.  They are also old enough to not have surrogate blog monitors check out the site for them.  I think that if they would lay off on the familial pressure (via the monitoring and the accusations they make to my mom and grandmother) then things might get better.  I keep posting things related to them because their anxiety heightens my anxiety and my paranoia.  I really wouldn’t think that people who are related to me would want to cause me to either get so angry that I have severe headaches or so depressed that I cry for hours on end because I’ve heard yet again how horrible (in terms of actions) yet insignificant (in terms of importance to them) I am.  Honestly, the best way to end all of this drama is for them to back off.  They want to prove that I’m immature or wild or needing to be controlled by my parents*…that’s fine, but this all seems like a way to bait me, which doesn’t make them come off as being much more mature than me.

*Yes, my aunt actually told my mother that my mom should be able to exert some kind of parental control on me about what I blog about because she is my parent.  Yes, my aunt knows that in less than four months, I will be 28.  She also knows that I am a lot better behaved at 27 than my mom was during her teens and twenties.  So, again…perspective.

3 comments » | 10 Years of Madness, Confessions, Family, Holidays, My Family's Weirder Than Yours Is

Why Do I Even Bother

28
October

Mom just got a call from her mom. Apparently, I’ve been up to no good again and saying “bad things” about certain people. I thought this was weird because I haven’t been saying anything recently about certain people. The last thing that I could find that is public is something from September. It was a rant about my mom taking me for granted while glorifying a particular family member, who I was (and still am) annoyed with over the lack of participation in my mom’s recovery process. I still feel my rant is justified. Of course, I still feel my rant from January is justified and I feel the rant I made in 2002 was justified, too. I also think that they have been taken way too seriously in some respects, while not seriously enough in others.

Since I know that those people are probably reading and will probably continue reading, I want to say this:

I have specifically asked, many times, that you not read this site if you don’t like what I say. I have also asked that you not take it off the computer or try to use it against me with other family. Apparently, this isn’t possible.

I am sorry that you were offended by what I said, but I’m not sorry that I said it. That may sound childish or rude, but let’s face it, I’m not exactly thought of as the most mature member of the family.

I do think that it was unfair in 2002 to shut me out of your life for 9 months until you suddenly decided that something might happen and that you couldn’t live with yourself if it did. I think it was even more unfair that for the next 9 years, even when I tried to make up for the 2002 post, I was basically ostracized within my own family. I think it was unfair that I spent two Thanksgivings when I was severely depressed wondering what I would have to do to make you spend time with me on a holiday that we used to enjoy together.

I think it is unfair that I am the bad one about the January thing in general. I find out something that was apparently so private that people who share DNA couldn’t know, but that was okay for hundreds of thousands of strangers to find out at the same time as those strangers. I get pissed about it. I make one tiny little comment, then become public enemy number one. Meanwhile, it is okay that that post that got her so upset was found only 6 or 7 hours after it was made meaning: she was checking up on me. Yeah, you can say that I apparently needed to be constantly monitored, but the thing is that I didn’t.

I also think that it was unfair that in January, when you talked to her after the post, you didn’t somehow emphasize that making a phone call to me would only further agitate me. You have known me since I was a little kid. Have I ever really been comfortable on the phone? No. Have I ever really been able to vocally defend myself? No. Didn’t it occur to you or to her husband or to anyone who may have thought that call was a good idea that it was, in fact, a bad one?

I shouldn’t be forced to feel guilty because I said things you didn’t like. I shouldn’t have to be told not to write about things that you don’t like. If I cater to you or to anyone else, then I won’t be writing about what is upsetting me anymore. I won’t be doing what the blog was basically set up for. Writing about my issues is how I deal with them. If I don’t write about them, I go more crazy than I already am. If that happens, then I go to the hospital. If that happens, then what? Are you going to move my mom and dad down to your house to make sure that they’re taken care of? Are you going to try to keep up with their health problems? Are you going to give my mom shots (insulin or otherwise) when she’s so out of it that she can’t give them to herself? If I don’t write about these things, these are questions that you will have to have answers for.

What I say doesn’t actually hurt this family in anyway. How have you been harmed by my words? Offended? Maybe, but not hurt. Whereas, I’ve dealt with having my education called into question multiple times, been treated like a dangerous fiend since my time IP, and hearing speculation that my grandmother (and then my mother) have drug problems because of their use of pain medicine. I’ve seen our family get torn apart because suddenly there is only room in the family for you and my uncle plus your son, his wife, and their son, and maybe your mom’s “adoptive” sister that you apparently communicate with more than you do with your own biological sister.

I will not quit writing about things. I will not apologize about your getting upset by them. I will not pretend that I’m okay that this family has been so dysfunctional for years now. I will remind you that you are an adult, you have a choice about what you do when you’re on the internet, and you make the choice to read these things. You know what you will find and you do it anyway because that justifies the anger that you have toward me. The subsequent acting-like-Janet-is-a-subhuman attitude is then okay because I brought it on myself. If you don’t want to be angry with me, then don’t read things I say. If you don’t want to know that I’m frustrated about you, then don’t read it. Or learn to skip posts that are categorized as “family” because they “might” be about you and they might be negative.

So, I shall say this now: back off and try to get over it. Oh, and stop opening that entry over-and-over. It will not be going away. It will not be edited. You need to move on.

I’m guessing this feud will probably hamper any Thanksgiving plans, but…it might be worth it. Sure, Thanksgiving is one of those rare days where I actually do eat a significant amount of food, and it is one of the few days that I get to see people I’m related to that aren’t my mother or father, but if I’m going to have to put up with this crap then I don’t want to spend the holiday with them. I want to spend it with Nana. At least she’s loved me and actually tried to be there for me through all of this.

I shouldn’t spend a family holiday with people who clearly don’t want me to be a part of their family.  I want to be where I’m wanted, and that probably won’t ever be in a room where she is.

Comment » | 10 Years of Madness, Confessions, Family, Holidays, Letters, Rants, So Damn Special

Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

14
October

On Wednesday evening, I went with my dad to the grocery store. I don’t usually go these days, but I went this time because my mother had fallen a little earlier in the day. Even though she still uses the scooters there, I didn’t think she could handle going. (I honestly didn’t think she could get outside to the car.) My mom wanted to write a shopping list so that we didn’t forget her food and other items. When she was writing out the list, she wrote a lot of non-words/gibberish.

While I know that sometimes we all have moments of forgetfulness, this shopping list incident plus her inability to communicate clearly and her tendency to forget things makes me very nervous. It could just be that she is getting older and that, because of her various health problems, the insane amount of psychiatric medicine that she is on, and her past history of multiple (over ten) suicide attempts (all overdoses), she is just going to begin losing more and more of her ability to “function” properly. I’m worried that it isn’t. I’m also worried that because she forgets that she is so forgetful and has such trouble communicating that she won’t actually attempt to tell a doctor that she is deteriorating to such an extent. I have this feeling that a trip to a neurologist would help figure out what the hell is going on in her brain, but every single time that I suggest it, she gets defensive and says that there isn’t anything wrong with her. Honestly, it reminds me of the hesitance that Dadada had around the time the doctors said that he definitely had some form of dementia. He swore that he wasn’t losing his mind and that we were all just making it up to make him seem like a senile old man. (We weren’t.) I really don’t want to see my mom go down that road. I really don’t want to be a caregiver of a dementia patient again. It was hard enough when I was little and less self-involved. I don’t think I have the ability to do it anymore and I don’t know if my dad could do it by himself (or with help), and I really don’t want to ever have to think about putting my mom in some place where other people take care of her because I know how that can turn out.

I could just be anxious over her for no reason, but the longer it goes on, the longer I think that I probably have a very, very good reason to be anxious. Unfortunately, I can’t make her go to the doctor. I could go with her when she goes to the doctor, but she could say that I was just being an evil daughter who wants to have her institutionalized and, knowing her, she would say that to protect her own warped view of the world.

I wish that there were some easy solution to this whole thing, but I know that there isn’t and that’s frustrating, depressing, and just plain scary.

Comment » | 10 Years of Madness, Confessions, Family

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