|I wish I could have taken a nap today...an all day nap...maybe even longer.|
Today was not a good day. Actually, the previous sentence is an understatement. I started crying around 11pm and didn't stop until 2am, after losing my temper on the boys for refusing to go to bed. I came very close to a complete and utter mental break-down with suicidal thoughts and all, but please do not be concerned as I have managed to get my head back above the water. I just hope that I can keep it there,
Pete has been sick for a week now. He has missed several days of work and his job is in jeopardy. That is not good at all. His income is the only income in our household. If he were to lose his job, chances are that we would lose our home. The thought of being homeless again terrifies me. Also, the fact that Pete is an illegal alien makes his chances of finding a job around here slim to none, especially finding a job that at least pays $7.50/hour and a boss that doesn't treat him like a slave. The whole prospect is worrisome to say the least. It is killing me to watch him in pain. He needs a doctor. He needs treatment, but we do not have the money for these. He fever has been on for three days now. He can't walk. His big toe joint is swollen to five times the normal size. His knee is inflamed beyond belief. He cannot even bend it. It appears to be completely disfigured. From the waist down, on his right side, he doesn't even look human. His lower spine seems to also be affected. All of these areas are extremely hot to the touch. He's also having severe stomach pain. I assume that part is from the amount of Aleve that he is taking every day to combat the pain. He's taking a very unhealthy amount, way more than the bottle recommends. He cries out in pain intermittently all night long. He curses and asks God why. I'm awake all hours with him. I keep begging him to let me take him to the hospital, but he will not go. He says he doesn't want to bother my grandma about watching the kids and that we already owe the hospital too much money. I don't blame him. From past experiences when these attacks have happened, we have went to the hospital, they never give us answers. They only give him a hydrocodone and send him home. I just want this to be over. I would give anything to see him healed, but I don't think it's going to happen. I fear this thing will eventually cripple him. After the attacks are finished, they always leave him a little more disfigured than he was before. We can hardly find shoes wide enough to fit his feet anymore. I'm really frightened.
Another thing that has happened is that I have had to break tie with yet another of my family members. This time, my aunt on my father's side. She hurt me deeply. It breaks my heart that my family is so incredibly dysfunctional, abusive, manipulative, selfish, unloving, and apathetic. It seems like every day I feel more alone in this world. I have to give my mother credit, though. She really is trying to build a relationship, but she is afflicted, which always has and continues to make having a relationship with her difficult. My father, God love him, is unable to be in relationship with anyone as he is bed-ridden and quadrapeligic. It may be wrong of me, but I wish that I had someone, anyone to lean on. I grow tired of always having to be strong, always having to be the one that gives and gives, but never receives. I don't blame my parents. I know that even if they wanted to be there for me, they are unable to do so, as has been the entire length of my life. The only other family I have is my dear grandmother. She helps me in a physical sense, but it is impossible to talk with her. I'm not sure why that is, but that is just the way it is and always has been. We work side by side to get everything finished that needs to be finished and to care for all that need cared for, but it seems we are both to weary to speak to eachother or even acknowledge the others prescence. Besides that, I really have no one. My friends are nowhere nowadays. It seems we have all grown far apart. I try to talk to them, but they have no compassion, always turning the conversation back to the topic of themselves. Some of my closets friends, who I have always felt a strong bond with are drifting away. They are too busy having fun, partying, going out, etc. Those are all things that I used to do, but no longer do and I think it has caused seperation between us. There are others who have changed completely into someone I do not know anymore and it's almost like I can not understand them, nor can I understand them. It feels as though every single conversation that I have been a part of in the last few months has ended badly and I walk away feeling more depressed and hopeless than I was before attempting to make contact with another human being. I feel completely isolated and alone. I need some kind of connection with another, but at this point, I'm afraid to even try anymore. I can't risk adding anything more to the burden that I'm feeling.
In school I'm not doing well at all. I dropped one class in hopes that it would give me more time and energy to focus on the other classes. I'm way behind on my work in those classes and not faring well at all. As for the grades that I am earning, they are not good at all. With everything that is going on in my life and the lack of encouragement that I am experiencing, it's hard to be motivated or to focus on anything. Sometimes, I wonder if I will ever have a degree in hand. I'm almost thirty years old and have accomplished nothing. My life is slipping by and I have yet to reach any of the dreams that I set for myself to achieve as a much younger woman. What I really want to do is write and I have some great ideas but I never follow through to the end, always losing interest before I get half way in. I'm starting to feel as if my life has been a waste. I find myself constantly questioning the purpose of my own existence. Perhaps my life was never really meant to be. It is hard because I blame myself for being a complete and utter screw-up and for all the foolish decisions that I have made based on my belief in love, faith, miracles, and goodness, but I also can not help, but feel that I was disadvantaged from birth. I keep trying to figure out how that part is my fault, but I can only find compassion and sympathy for the innocent child that I once was. Perhaps it is my destiny to eternally fail at everything I ever attempt to do. I just hope it is not a curse that I pass on to my children. This is not the life I imagined for myself or my children, but it seems that no matter how I try, I can not escape this hellish nightmare.