Spiralling downward. I think I’m loosing all I have left.

  February 10th, 2009 by Kuddles

A little over a year ago I moved out of my mother’s house for the first time. I had told her I’d had enough. That I was leaving, and that now that I was 18 she couldn’t stop me. I packed my clothes in a couple backpacks and garbage bags, just stuffing most of my stuff inside, in a hurry to get out and get away. She was sick, she was Bi-polar. I knew it all too well, I knew how she felt, but it still hurt to have her curse me, call me names, and tell me how worthless I was. I know she was just angry, but why me? She knew I was like her. She knew I was more sensitive. She knew that. She’d almost lost me to myself, twice. But she never stopped. Never took her anger out somewhere else. – But right now even though I know leaving made me happy I wish I hadn’t. She’s gone. She hung herself on March 10, 2008. About 5 months after I left. It really feels like it was all my fault. If I hadn’t left, if I hadn’t left her… she’d still be alive. I know she would. I had no life at the time, I was home all day. I never went anywhere and didn’t have any friends. I would have been able to stop her. I could have been there for her. It’d only cost my happiness, but because I left she’s gone. I regret leaving but I still know it was the right thing to do, but only the right thing for me.
Moving in with my dad was nice, not quite to nice at first. I mean I’d never moved in with him before because I just didn’t like the things he did. Marijuana is not something I ever wished to be around. Let alone a bunch of his friends who smoke it with him. But things with my mom were just too much for me anymore. I had to go and his “apartment” was my only option. But to my surprise he actually quit and started trying to get healthy. But that didn’t last very long. He soon got very sick. He had COPD from long years of drug abuse and ciggarettes. His oxygen levels just wouldn’t stay up long enough for him to be without oxygen. Right about the time he started getting sick is when my mother hung herself. In fact I was at the hospital visiting my father the day she did. We were expecting her to come up and have dinner with us in his hospital room. We called down cause she was a little late and no-one picked up so we called my grandparents only to hear that my younger sister had found a note from my mother and called the cops, and the police found her hanging in the garage.
So with my mothers death my sister was forced to move in with us. (Our [mother’s side] grandparents offered her a place but when they found out that she did drugs [and I say drugs because I don’t know the extent of her use then, I’d seen her in pretty bad shape before, she’d been doing things for a while, part of the reason I just couldn’t stay with my mother, the anger and drugs just made it too much.] they said they just couldn’t take her. So I moved out of my apartment with my father and into my boyfriend’s fathers.. shack. Giving my sister my room and bed. And still paying the rent, and even for some of their food, including paying for my own at the shack and my boyfriends. My sister continued with her drugs.. and slowly, most likely without really knowing, brought my father back into them.[My boyfriend has been here the whole time, since right after I moved out of my mothers, he was basically the only one I had to lean on emotionally though all of this.] Every now and then my bf and I would go back to the apartment and spend the weekend with them, so I could see my sister and dad and we could get away from my bf’s father who was w-a-a-a-y too much like my mother. The last time I went over was for my 19th birthday. I could tell he’d been doing drugs again, and that he was abusing his meds again. I knew it and I was very un-comfortable. I’d come from the drug and anger-filled shack to come to my slurring father, missing sister, and not exactly the birthday I’d hoped to spend. But it was quite and improvement over my 18th birthday when my mother got into a huge argument with my grandfather (who took care of and supported us) right before I was going to open my gift/ Screaming and yelling.. everyone just left me alone sitting at the table. Staring at the cake. But I’m a a little off. Becuase despite being gone for the day, doing things he’d managed to bring me back a cake and some ice cream and sing me Happy birthday before passing out while eating it. Partly because he wasn’t using his oxygen party because he just took a half a zanex bar and a roxycodon. When I know he shouldn’t have. I knew when he was supposed to take his meds. And it definatly wasn’t at 2:00 when we were suppoesed to be spending time together. Now after that I’d just wanted to go back to the shack. I couldn’t handle watching my father kill himself slowly after loosing my mother just 6 months before. So that night when he woke up I’d sat down and spent a little time with him while he was still alive looking, then he offered to take us 3 out to eat. (my sister had just come home and went straight to bed.) So we did, I felt that instead of just taking some money from him as a present that I’d rather spend a dinner with him my my bf. I must say I’m very happy I did. The times I spend with my father and getting to see a drug free him are something I’ll never regret, even if that ment me leaving my mother’s house. Because three days after my birthday party on August 2, 08′ my father was found dead from an accidental overdose of his medications. In 6 months I’d lost everything except my sister and the few pieces of furnature that I could take back to the tiny little shack. As of right now my sister is living quite happily and drug-free in Tennessee with out Uncle, our father’s oldest brother, who takes care of her as their own child she’s so happy in a normal loving household. I’d very, very happy for her. But I feel like she’s forgotten me, we normally talk via email or myspace but it’s gotten to where if she responds.. it’s every month or less.. that if she REs normally I send a few messages before she’ll send me one. I miss her a lot. But I’m happy she’s happy, and that she’s drug free and doing well with good friends and our father’s side of the family.

But I’m stuck in a hole that’s deep and dark and I don’t think I can see the light that points the way out at times. I live on a very limited income. A whopping $670 a month. It’s a fixed rate I just can’t work over time, and every if I could I’d probably get fired for doing so. After food for myself and my bf, bills and necessary expenses I’m left with little to nothing to put away. And it seems that I can get no relief not any time soon. I’m lucky enough to have a very generous grandfather (the same one who’s taken care of me my whole life) who just paid off some debts I got from my parent’s deaths. But even with that it’s not enough to get me out of this hole. It filled in a little dirt at the bottom, but there’s no rope descending not even a flashlight beam. My monthly expenses even without the small amount that I was paying towards the debts every month meets and at time exceeds my budget. And things just keep getting worse.

Right now I’m facing something I have to pay for that I really can’t afford. I have to spay and neuter the cats we have because no one else is going to. No one. my bf’s father I honestly belive would just let them run rampant screwing until there’s 50-or 60 of them running around here. But I can’t just sit back idle and watch that happen because I know their expenses are going to fall upon me eventually. He has a habit of getting people to do things once or twice when he doesn’t want to or “can’t afford it” (code for:I need that for my pot budget) and then just expecting them to do it. And expect them to keep doing it till in his head it’s their responsibility.

I mean I already pay for all his son’s food and shampoo, soap, even clothing and items he needs. I don’t mind doing it. But hid father doesn’t even offer to help not even for his own fucking son. It makes me wan to smash his face in. Especially the way he treats him. My bf “quit” school I say so with quotes because he never formally quit, and when he asked and begged his father to let him go back he said no. That is would be a waste of time for him to drive him to his bus stop. (he’d have to drive him to his bus stop because he’d moved them out of the school zone and never changed his address and apparently going to the school board is too much trouble.) So he kept his son from finishing school and basically stunted him everywhere else. My bf tries to get a job he just puts him down in any way possible, including that “he can’t drive” which is something that I believe is entirely his fault as a parent. He can’t just go out and get it, you need parental permission and help every step of the way. Including being on their insurance.

When I met my bf I was in a good place. I had moved in with my father, I didn’t have alot of bills and my father took care of the food for half of the month, and I only paid him $250 in rent. I had a car and I was insured. I was going to help my bf get his life straight because I love him and I was able to do so then. We went all over trying to find him a job. He applied everywhere, but this was around the beginning of the economy going sour. There were few jobs and high school drop-outs aren’t high on the list of getting employed. I got him permit test books and a ID because he needed one he was 18 and needed a way to prove it. I had intended on teaching him how to drive but living away from my vehicle by the time he turned 18 kind of made things hard. But I was still able. I still didn’t have too much expenses every month I was good stable and I could still help. But now.. I just don’t have it. I’ve lost everything and I can’t help him and he can’t help me (money wise). He’s always been there for me emotionally though all of this. He was there for a expecially bad fight I had with my mom while my father was in the hospital and I needed some help cause I was really sick. He was there for my mom’s wake and was there when I saw my father dead. He’s been with me though all of this and I love him so much that I just don’t know how to express it and when I try it never comes out right.

But right now he’s whats on my mind in this depression. I feel like.. he’s getting sick of me. Like I’m not worthy of his time any more and I’m only good for what I buy him or what tasks I can do for him. I know we’ve spent the better part of a year and a half without really leaving each-other’s sides but I feels sick and a nauseous, and now my hole has a large stone covering the exit, blocking every tiny particle of light, leaving me in complete and true darkness. I’m lost and scared and I don’t know what to do. It’s been 3 years since I’ve felt this bad and it scares me.

I need him to hold me and tell me it’ll be okay, that he loves me and cares for me. But instead tonight he just turned over after I talked to him without a word. I could feel my heart crack and the dark feeling seep deeper in and I immediately knew I had to find something to get my thoughts out onto. Something somewhere. So that maybe I can feel better. I cannot kill my self. I can’t. I can’t do that to my sister and I can’t do that to my bf. Because, I know in my head I’m being irrational right now. I know that but I’m sad and I’m depressed and my rational thoughts even though they are there can’t banish this feeling.. this weight.. this darkness that’s swallowing me up whole. I know he loves me. I know he cares about me and I know that. I do I really do. But all I needed was for him to offer me his arm hold me and tell me he loves me.
I know I’ll come out of this, and I might even feel all better in the morning after some sleep, I know myself and I know my bi-polar emotions and how they work…

And I know I probably sound selfish..
ButIs a hug and three short words, really too much? Or am I loosing him, all I have left? After loosing my mother, my father, and being separated from my sister am I loosing him too? I just don’t think I can take it.

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