Miserable Day

It's sorta funny when I think about. The entire day was pretty bad. It started with me waking up at 2AM because of the shooting pain in my hands and arms. I couldn't sleep. They felt like cement. I couldn't move. And it hurt so bad. But what could I do? Nothing. I have no health insurance. I have no money. Welcome to America.

I spent the next 20 minutes trying to get out of bed. And another 15 minutes trying to open my front door. Where I sat in the silence of early morning. Praying to God. And hoping that the pain and fear would go away. I know something is wrong. This is not normal. I've worked in health care too long to let this fall at the wayside. And the feeling in my gut, that spoke louder than any other person could.

Sometime after 6AM, I called my Dad. I knew he would be up. He's always up early. Just to talk. Maybe talking about nothing at all, maybe that would take my mind off of things. No, it didn't help. The only thing I could get him to talk about was the donut he was eating. And sometime after 7AM, when my Mom woke up, I was still miserable. Add to all of this, the miserable cold I got from getting caught in the rain.

But my Mom and I had a good conversation. We talked about a lot of things. And she was in such a great mood. It helped to lighten my own mood. Not the same type of conversation that my Dad and I had early this morning. But I'm coming to realize, the only time he has any kind of a real conversation with me, is when they fight...

So I went on with my day. I managed to drive myself to the library. I needed to get on the computer for school related things. Never mind that I have a laptop at home. But I have no internet access. And I need a new power cord...

I got some stuff done. But I couldn't finish it in the 1 hour they give you. That's right. You get 1 hour, of computer time, at your local library. Not much I could get done with 2 numb hands. So I headed to work. In pain. I still couldn't feel my hands and arms. And it was becoming difficult to breathe. I Thanked God that J wasn't home. That's all I needed. Was to be lectured by him, because I was feeling so bad and needed to go to the hospital.

From 9:30AM-5:30PM I worked. I locked myself in my office, and I finished all the paperwork for the guys. They're leaving early in the morning. Headed to the next job. I started payroll. And I had a million and a half things to do. Let's not get started on the fact that I couldn't feel my hands. And I've been panicked about that ALL DAY LONG!

I missed my session. And I got the usual call to my cellphone. Which I ignored. Guaranteed Dr. D. was at my front door knocking away. But I had to get through work. And honestly, I was in no mood to deal with all my crap today. I had already called to cancel. Guaranteed, he didn't believe me. So I call my parents when I get home.

I should have known when they didn't answer, that something was up. Because I can always reach them between 5-7PM. ALWAYS! Because they're usually eating dinner, or just finishing dinner, or having dessert. They're like that. On a schedule. But nothing. Not after the 3rd time I called on Dad's cellphone. Not on Mom's phone. Not another 5 times on Dad's. I knew something was up...

Oh ya, the crap really hit the fan tonight. I don't know what started it. Nor do I care. But honestly, I swear to God. If my husband ever told me the things my Dad has, I'd beat the man senseless. I'm not trying to be mean here. But there are certain things, that you should never hear about your parents. EVER! I don't care how mad the other is.

But that is what happened when my Dad called me at almost 6:30PM. I don't know how to put it. But it's time. It's time for them to walk away. There's nothing left there. No respect, no trust, and I'm doubting any love...

It saddens me. But if it will bring peace of mind to the 3 of us, it's time. It really is time. How many times can my Dad imagine things happening? How many times can he put HIS kids in front of my Mom? Hell, he tries to do that with me. I just don't let him. How many truly hurtful things can they say to each other?

That right there, that is the sole reason I run from relationships. I know it. No one has to tell me. I know this. For 27 years, I've heard the same fights. Seen the same things happen. And I usually sweep in, and fix things. But you know what? My own life is going up in flames. And I can't be there to fix them. I'm trying to save myself.

I happened to mention my brother. Oh, that really pissed my Dad off. But how many times can I tell him, he is a big part, of the current problems. How can a man, that is older than my Mom, live with them? Does my Dad really think it was going to be OK? My brother doesn't respect my Mom or me. That's why I've avoided going home. Yes, I used to go home a lot more often. For a week or 2 in the summer. But how can I now? Oh ya, in front of my Dad he acts like this saint of a son and brother. But he's not!

And the neighbors, my Dad doesn't want to know the real reasons why they won't talk to them. The neighbor across the street approached me about my brother. What was I supposed to do? Lie? I just didn't say anything. They showed me the papers they got. But whatever. "We're" not supposed to talk about it.

There are so many things going on. And when I mentioned to my Dad that perhaps my parents should see a counselor. Or maybe each of them talk to a friend. Forget it. He didn't like it. But how in the world, does he think, it's OK to throw all of this crap on top of me? I see a counselor and a psychologist. Just trying to deal with this. All of it! I'm not embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes, we just have to admit what's wrong. It's the only way we're ever going to fix it.

Can I tell you something? I've had a horrible day today. Just plain out horrible. I've never in my life had this kind of pain. Not even after my surgery. Never. Ever. And I've never struggled to breathe this much in my entire life! But I can't afford to go to the doctor. I don't even want to think about what it would cost to go to the ER. And I've never, ever in my life, felt like I've needed to go more that I do today.

And on top of that, I was supposed to go talk to Dr. S. tonight. There is no way I'm going now. I'm late. Seriously late. After my Dad and I got off the phone, I was way too emotional. And already 45 minutes late! Dr. S. was probably planning to just yell at me anyone. Because no one can understand that I seriously can't afford school anymore. I'm broke. And my job is just not cutting it anymore...

Do you know that my life is in absolute ruins at the moment? I feel like I'm in free fall. And nobody, not a single soul, could give a damn! That's my life. I can rely more on my friends than I can on my family. It's just fact. They're so wrapped up, in drama that they create for themselves, that I'm left flapping in the wind. It's always been this way!

And then my Dad has the nerve to tell me that he wishes he would just die. He wants to die right now. Are you freaking serious? He absolutely has no clue. None whatsoever. And here I am. His daughter. His youngest daughter. Over 3 hours away, I can't feel my 2 appendages, I'm struggling to breathe, and you tell me this. How on earth do you think, that is not going to bother me?

I swear to God, I can't win for trying. Not in anything in life. Not in trying to talk to my Dad. Not in music. Because he didn't want me to have a career in it. Never mind that I made more money playing birthday parties, than I ever did at the hospital. I enjoyed it. And I was at least able to afford school and food at the same time. It never mattered to anyone that I nearly killed myself trying to work and go to school. That at one point, I was malnourished. Because I was trying to pay for school. And I honestly couldn't afford food.

Never mind that I've had to walk away from the only thing that was keeping me afloat...my internship. Even with all the violence I had to endure, being held at gunpoint and all, that was all I had. An internship where I felt useful and productive. I'm scrapping what little money I have, just to pay for tuition. I know I'm going to have to do without books. I picked up an application for the National Guard yesterday. That's how desperate I am.

But nothing matters. It doesn't matter that I've been on the Dean's List since I started college. Or that I have a 4.0 GPA. None of that matters. Because people are too wrapped up in their own lives. All my Dad can ever see is, this child that is his daughter. And why in hell can't I graduate already. I feel like a failure in his eyes. I always have. No matter how hard I try.

My brother is so freaking paranoid that I'm going to walk away with everything, that he had the nerve to put me down when I left last week. I almost told my Dad. ALMOST! I was so close to telling him just what my brother said. Because he always waits until no one is around. Grow a pair. Be a man, and say what is on your mind in front of our Dad. If you have the guts to tell me, tell him too! Are you honestly going to tell me crap about bringing home groceries? Because Lord help me, my parents bought me some food. Free willed. I never told them that they had too. Or that I needed it.

This while he stays in their home. It's been almost 7 months. He doesn't buy food. All summer that I've gone, he wasn't working. But he feels like he has the right to tell me something about my groceries? Oh, bull crap! Do you even know how to clean the bathroom you use? Can you offer to do the dishes after I cook? No. You eat, and you run to your girlfriend.

Do you know that soon after he moved in with them, he said something to me? Ya. Something very hurtful. Something that made me refuse to go to the store with my parents. Something that stuck in my head. That had me avoiding my parents' house. I wouldn't let them buy me a loaf of bread. I hardly went to visit them for a long time. Then when I would go, I would avoid being at the house. I'd go to the library during the day. And the office at night. Because of what he said. But our Dad never knew the truth...

Then sometime during the summer, I said to hell with him. If he gets to live there for free, and eat for free...who is he to tell me anything, when my parents buy me some groceries? So when my parents wanted to take a road trip, I was game for it. Or if they felt like buying me some groceries or a couple of shirts, I figured, it was THEIR BUSINESS. NOT HIS! It's not like I'm running off with THEIR money. Or only going to see them for food, trips, and shopping. I go to see them. BOTH of my parents. Because I think he forgets that MY MOM is just as important as OUR DAD! I still only eat 1 meal a day. And a little something when I take my medication. I still live off of very little money. But I do this on my own. Can he say the same?

But that is what I'm dealing with. I just pray to God that he helps my parents. They need all the prayers they can get. Whether it's time for them to part ways or not. Maybe they shouldn't have listened to their 5 year old daughter, 22 years ago. The daughter that begged them to get married...

And I also prayed to God, that if there is something serious wrong with me, just to take me. I can't handle this much longer. The pain. Both physical and emotional. I'm sitting here an empty shell. Unable to let anyone love me. I can't trust. And I'm starting to lose faith in this game we call life. I really have no faith in people. Not Mr. Blue Eyes who wants nothing more than to help me heal. And to love me. Not the Cowboy who makes me smile, with the sound of his voice. Not Sanchocito who I really thought I could let in. And most certainly not J. The man who would do anything for me. But I can't.

These are my friends. What they don't realize is the hurt and the pain I've lived through. My inability to trust anyone. Or to truly believe that someone can love you without, expecting something from you. Or hurting you. I'm so afraid of being hurt. But honestly, how much worse can it get? This horrible secret that I've had stuck inside me, since I was 7 years old, I could never ever tell my parents. I would never know how to begin...

Let's be real. They have enough going on. And maybe I was only sent to earth to try and make peace of their lives. I don't know. I sit and ask God every single day to give me strength. To help me along. But at this point, not only is the world fighting against me. My own body is turning on itself.

I don't know how much more I can take. I really wish Memo or O was here. I need someone to just listen to me. To reassure me that I'm going to make it until tomorrow. Because I'm really not sure. Everything hurts. My heart, my head, my soul. Physical pain. Emotion pain. Mental pain.

People see me. They really think I have it all together. How else would they trust me with their kids? What else would motivate people to ask me to be their kids' Godmother, or their Madrina for their wedding? I'm not sure. I want to be as strong as people think I am. I'm just not sure that I am. Or that I have the ability anymore.

I've always said there is a lot of fight inside of me. But when there is nothing left. And you're an empty shell, where do you dig for what you need to survive? I'm at that point. I want to call someone to talk to. But the only person that comes to mind, he has enough on his plate. A serious illness that has returned. And do I really want to burden him with all of this? Do I want him to see this disastrous side of my life? The side that makes me not believe in love or in people.

At this point, I know I'm in the world alone. I know that for a fact. After today, that was made blatantly clear. From a parent that felt his emotional needs were greater than my physical ones, to the loss in humanity as a whole. I wipe away the tears, I try to gather strength, and I pray to God that he gives me another day to live. No matter how hard you work, life is nothing more than a dog fight. ♥