Tag: Rants


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

Let Her Cry

29
December

I’m not exactly sure how to structure this post because there are so many things I want to talk about, so if it is a little more flighty than usual, then I apologize.

I guess first of all, I should talk about Christmas.  My parents and I had our Christmas meal with Nana on Christmas Eve so that my aunt didn’t have to see me or threaten violence against me.  I cried almost the entire three or four hours that my parents and I were there.  I managed to almost have an asthma attack because of the crying and I messed up my internal system by getting so worked up.  (My temperature shot up, I started getting sick, etc.)  So, it wasn’t all that pleasant.  I felt bad for my grandmother because she’s almost 80 and she’s got a lot of health issues going on, so having to have separate Christmases was tough on her physically and mentally.  (She has a lot of anxiety issues, so this whole situation has upset her quite a bit.)  I also felt bad that I couldn’t even fake a smile or a good mood while we were there.

When my mom talked to Nana about how Christmas Day went with my aunt, uncle, cousin, cousin-in-law, and cousin’s son, she said that it wasn’t a really festive occasion.  Apparently, my cousin’s son went through Nana’s house looking for me and was sad that I wasn’t there to play with him.  I almost cried when my mom told me this.  I missed him, too.  He’s the one person that I have missed every second of this whole non-communication between my aunt and me thing.  He’s just so awesome and thinks differently and is so smart and creative, so being around him is always fun.  I feel like he’s a kindred spirit.

Nana said that my aunt asked how we handled Christmas without them.  When Nana told her that I cried almost the whole time, my aunt said that that was good because I hadn’t made any effort to apologize to her.  Okay, that isn’t true.  First of all, I actually did write a “letter” via Google Docs and sent it through my uncle’s email address with a note for him to please give it to her.  While the apology isn’t a complete acceptance of the alleged wrongs that I’ve been accused of committing, it is an apology for what I did do; a request that she cease this anti-Janet “campaign”; a request that she learn a little bit more about the physical and mental health problems affecting my mom, Nana, and me so that she could understand the context of the posts I write; and questions about why she made comments to my mom suggesting that I should be kicked out of my house, that I was a bad daughter, etc.   Anyway, the apology is the best that she is going to get.  I would’ve sent it to her personally on Facebook but  she blocked me from sending her messages after I sent the message chastising her for not contacting her sister (my mom) after the June 2011 hospitalization or any of the hospitalizations/surgeries.  I can’t do it via the phone (fear/anxiety issues), face-to-face is out of the question, I don’t have her personal email address, and I just don’t think sending a letter is practical.   I would post the apology letter on here, but she doesn’t actually read this site, so it wouldn’t do any good.

On Christmas, I wasn’t just upset about the downfall of that particular relationship.  I was also upset that my maternal grandfather’s only surviving sibling had unfriended me on Facebook, as had one of his kids.  These were two of my favorite people in the family, so being unfriended saddened me.  And part of me wondered if my aunt had anything to do with it.  I hate being paranoid, but it was weird how they unfriended me shortly after she had posted something on each of their walls.  That thought/paranoia, plus the knowledge that she keeps badmouthing me to Nana and (when my mom calls her) my mother, made me very frustrated because some of the key issues with being Borderline are the fear of abandonment/rejection and intense and unstable relationships.  I think anyone who knows me in any way, shape or form could cite any number of examples that I will go to a near breakdown state whenever things change, relationships end or near an end, I start feeling unappreciated, and when I feel alone, unloved, or unwanted. So, when I was crying on Christmas Eve, I was thinking about the familial implosion, possibly killing myself over it, and how I was somehow a horrible human being.  That’s not the kind of thinking that one should have at any time, but it is especially bad during the holidays.  And that thought process and the pain that it caused makes it harder for me to come up with a way to apologize over any of this or keep quiet about how I feel.  I don’t want to excuse my (sometimes) bad behavior, but I want my family to understand where it comes from.

(BTW – When my aunt tried to lay all the blame on me for this, Nana wouldn’t have any of that.  She told her that she [my aunt] was to blame, as well, and that she was the one who wanted the family split up. She’d also told her off on the 23rd when Nana mentioned that she had to fix the table for our lunch and my aunt told her not to worry about it with us because we “weren’t used to eating at a table” anyway. )

Aside from the Christmas tear-fest, I was going to share whatever the results were from my MRI and EEG.  I went to the neurologist’s office yesterday, but (after waiting an hour and a half) I was told that the neurologist had just left to attend to an emergency at one of the hospitals.  In a small way, I was upset over not finding out the answers, but I would rather not know what was wrong with me than know that my neurologist might have wasted time with me that he could’ve spent on someone who was truly in need of his help at that moment.  (And I know that neurologists are not exactly doctors who have soft-fluffy-type emergencies.)  Anyway, my neurologist was supposed to call me sometime later in the day yesterday.  He didn’t.  He still hasn’t called.  I could call them, I guess.  The only thing I do know from the appointment yesterday is that I had lost another 6 pounds, in addition to the ~50 that I’d lost in the last year.

Oh, I finally had my T4, TSH, LH, and FSH tests done yesterday afternoon, over a month after they were originally ordered.  The woman who did the test asked me if that was my husband in the waiting room.  I silently gagged and told her that that was my father.  She told me she was glad because she had been mad when she thought he was my husband because he should know better than to be with someone so young.  In a way, I understood what she meant, but it was kind of weird to have someone say that kind of stuff.  I mean, she doesn’t know me, so what was she going to say if she had been my husband?  How would she have gotten around her disgust?  And is saying that kind of thing a good idea when you’re sticking a needle into someone?  (It could cause someone to tense up and cause veins to ‘disappear’ in someone who, like me, is a hard-stick.)

Comment » | 10 Years of Madness, Facebook, Family, FPS-Related, General, Holidays, Mental Health, My Family's Weirder Than Yours Is, Sickness and Health, So Damn Special

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

When You Say Nothing At All

10
October

Well, in less than 48 hours, I may get to find out if I am going to go to jail or pay some hefty fine. I really am not looking forward to this. I shouldn’t be too nervous, since this is the third hearing that I’ve been scheduled for with this and, aside from my outburst last time and being made to feel like I was about 2 inches tall the time before, nothing has really happened this time around. I don’t want to quit worrying altogether, though. I have this feeling that if I don’t go in at least slightly anxious, then I will end up feeling completely overwhelmed or unprepared by whatever ends up happening.

Other than my inevitable meeting hearing with fate the judge and the city attorney, I don’t think I have anything else going on this week or anytime soon. Molly is going back to the vet this week, I think, to get her stitches taken out from her surgery. My mom will probably have lots of fun chores for me to do for her.

Oh, my mom is supposed to try pool therapy. I have a feeling her trying it won’t last long. I think that she truly has given up on getting around by herself and that she doesn’t feel that she needs to work toward getting better. If I suggested that to her, as I have tried to do in the past, then she would freak out and act like I’m just not understanding her pain or her weakness. I understand the issues that she has. I understand them quite well. What I don’t understand is how she thinks that that pain or that weakness means that she is excused from ever even trying to do anything at all. (Yeah, I know that sounds weird coming from me.)

Ugh. I’ve had (what feels like) a migraine brewing for a few hours now. I know that getting off the computer, shunning all electricity, etc. might help it get better, but it also might do nothing and will leave me in pain and bored.

I was going to call my family doctor to find out the results from the tests related to my last appointment, since I haven’t heard back on the ultrasound and the urine culture shouldn’t take too long to do. I didn’t call since it was Columbus Day and I figured that their office would close up shop for a holiday. I just need to remember to call tomorrow.

Comment » | Alabama Weirdness, Confessions, Family, Sickness and Health

Not So Pleasantly Surprised

31
August

A few months ago, I started receiving calls from Jamaica.  It was the typical scam call, which was easily identified.  I had a little bit of fun with it, for a while, because I liked listening to their pitch.  (Sometimes, listening to a lie is fun when you know that it is a lie.)  At first, it was the typical sweepstakes stuff.  Then, they started saying how they were from U.S. Customs.  I guess that they didn’t realize that U.S. Customs wouldn’t show up as being from Kingston, Jamaica.

Yesterday, the scammers got a bit more brazen.  I’d heard of Caller ID spoofing, and I knew that they did it some of the time, usually in the second or third call that they would make in a row.  I just didn’t expect my family to get one of those calls.  Well, we did get one.  Actually, I guess my mom got the call.  It was from Humana, which is the company her Medicare supplemental coverage is through.  Unfortunately, getting my mom to start giving out personal information can be a fairly easy, especially when she has just woken up.  It is even more easy when she thinks it is someone she can trust.  She was expecting a call about something from her case worker/nurse at Humana, so she thought nothing about them calling.

About four minutes into the call, the Caller ID switched from the fake number to the real number, which lo and behold was in Jamaica.  They were about to get some private details before my dad and I got her attention and told her that it was a scam.  This woke her up, and she tried to get their contact information from them.  They didn’t give legit information and she told them that if she was interested that she would call back.  She thought my dad was mad at her for almost giving out the information, which he was a little perturbed and wasn’t afraid to express this emotion toward her.  When he calmed down, we finally were able to get across how we were going to have to be especially vigilant  about these calls and not giving out any information to anyone unless we were absolutely certain that they were legit.  We also talked about how companies and organizations that we normally will deal with are not going to ask for things like account numbers or socials or anything like that.  They might ask for the last four digits (for some) or some information that isn’t really of any use to identity thieves and other forms of scammers.

It’s weird how this new level of deceitful behavior with scams kind of mirrors some of the new types of comment spam that I have seen lately.  Once upon a time, the comment spam would be easy to distinguish.  It would have BBCode instead of HTML.  It would be filled with drug names or sex-related topics.  Now, though, it looks like the spammers are actually reading the entries that they are commenting on, because the comments almost look like normal comments.  They even seem to get past things like Akismet and moderation filters.  I guess it makes sense that spammers would eventually learn how to adapt so that they could possibly get more exposure and might reel in more people to buy their product/service/nonexistent-entity-that-they’ve-made-up-so that-people-will-pay-them-lots-of-cash.  I just don’t like that they’ve adapted.  It makes being on the internet a lot less fun.  Plus, they’re on basically every site.  I’m used to them at fuzzypinkslippers.com and LiveJournal, and I’m almost used to them at Facebook and Twitter.  Finding them at Tumblr is really annoying, though.  I know that that site is growing in popularity, but I don’t like that so many of my likes lately have belonged to spammers, including “porn”-spam.  Really not cool.  I guess no place on the internet can escape the spam.

I guess I should just get used to these people, shouldn’t I?  They don’t seem to be going anywhere, so I guess I should accept it.  It just doesn’t seem like it should be something that I have to accept.  People shouldn’t have to worry that calls that they receive might take the little money that they might have in an account or might fraudulently use their insurance.  People shouldn’t have to worry that the next comment that they get might be from a spammer who, at best, wants them to buy something once that is not worth a dime or, at worst, might unleash holy hell on their bank account or their computer or cost them in some other way.

Comment » | Confessions, Facebook, Family, Geekery, Internet, LiveJournal, Rants, Tumblr, Twitter

The 4th

4
July

Happy Fourth of July!  I hope that everyone is having a great day.  This isn’t exactly my favorite holiday in the world.  I used to love it a lot, but now it seems kind of like any other holiday.

I don’t get why people call it the nation’s birthday.  It seems like the country’s birthday would be the anniversary of it winning the American Revolution or the day that the Constitution was officially ratified.  The day the Declaration of Independence was adopted just doesn’t seem like a birthday to me.  Independence Day should be the celebration of that, but calling it America’s birthday seems like the equivalent of saying a person’s birthday is the day their parents either had sex or the day that they were conceived.  It disregards that the colonists could have lost.  It disregards the struggles with regards to the Articles of Confederation and the framing of the Constitution.

Even after winning the war, the country might not have been “born”.  The war just guaranteed that initial bit of independence from Great Britain.  It didn’t guarantee that the country would last or that the states would want to stay together.  They could have split up.  So, it seems like we should celebrate another day as the birthday.

Anyway, other than my being annoyed at the birthday thing, I’m annoyed about my neighbors shooting off fireworks.  It is illegal to shoot them off within city limits.  They do it every year.  They don’t just do it on the Fourth.  The fireworks go off from the 1st of July through around the 7th or so, when they run out of them.  These are probably the same people who would advocate capital punishment against anyone who committed any crime and the same people who say that illegal immigrants are evil people because they violated the law by coming here.  (Some of the people who support launching them even though it is illegal are literally the same people who have said that all of the laws of the country/state/government have to be followed and respected.  They will advocate on behalf of laws that violate the Constitution, but heaven forbid you ask them to not illegally shoot off fireworks.)

For the record, there are shows for people to go to so that they can see fireworks.  These shows have permits that grant them the right to shoot the fireworks.  These shows are closely watched by safety people.  These shows are okay.  These shows I have no problem with.

I might not get so annoyed by the fireworks my neighbors use if the litter from those fireworks didn’t end up in my yard. I would be less upset if they didn’t disregard burn bans when they are in effect. (People will set the fireworks off when there are full burn bans in place, even though it compromises public safety.) I would be even less annoyed if I didn’t have to spend 6 hours on the nights they do this keeping Gretchen calm.  Having to comfort a terrified dog those 6 hours and then keeping an eye on her and making sure that she doesn’t continue to have issues for another 6 hours gets to a person.  I think that if my neighbors had to spend their holiday weekends trying to keep part of their family calm because someone was outside their house violating a law, then maybe they would get why I get so pissed about the fireworks.

Comment » | 10 Years of Madness, Alabama Weirdness, Causes, Confessions, Friends, Geekery, Holidays, How I Met Your Neighbors (aka An Overactive Imagination), Rants

Downy or Wingy

8
June

Today, I got yet another one of those lovely letters from the Community Development people.  Before I opened it, I had already recited the entire complaint against us.  I’ve memorized that complaint over the years.  I shouldn’t have to have it memorized.

Yes, our grass needs to be mowed, but it doesn’t look that bad.  In fact,  I think that the letter might have been sent a little early.  The law says that you have to have your grass at 8″ or below, which I would think that ours is not quite 8″.  Maybe the letter is preemptive?  Who knows?  We have until the 21st of this month to get it cut.

I think it’s a bit odd for them to issue a complaint right now.  Let’s face it, it’s too damn hot for anyone to be mowing your lawn.  We’ve had 12 days in a row of 90°.  Right now it is 95° and the dew point is 60° with an air quality that is listed as moderate.  That means that anyone who went out right now to mow the lawn would be in for a world of overheating and getting sick from the pollution levels.  The only time the temperature is even slightly decent is in the very early hours of the morning, when its not quite light enough to really mow the yard.

So I guess we have to get the guy next door to put his health on the line to mow it.  It’s either that or another trip to court, forking over another (at least) $100 in fines plus the extra court costs, being talked down to (again) by a judge, and the threat of being put in jail.  Yeah, I really hate this stupid rule.

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