Entries Tagged as 'my dysfunctional family is better than yours'
February 3rd, 2010 · 7 Comments
When I was kid I stood up for a little neighbor girl when a boy called her racial slurs and told her to go back to her own country. I was only ten years old but I knew that was wrong. She has just as much of a right to be here as the stupid little racist brat. When I told him to pick on someone else he punched me in the eye.
Right now I’m feeling like ten year old me. I wish that I didn’t get so incensed when I see injustice. Why aren’t the people around me upset when they witness felonies within our own family? Everyone says crap like, “No harm no foul.” Well, I say fuck that! A felony is a felony.
Life would be a lot easier if I cared a little less. But then I guess I wouldn’t be me. So I’m just sitting here, taking deep breaths, getting ready to be around my family tomorrow and not lose my shit.
Categories:Anxiety, Assholes, death, my dysfunctional family is better than yours
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January 30th, 2010 · 3 Comments
The past week has been full of emotions, sadness and frustrations. I have been caring for my grandma and grandpa full-time since November. Previous to that I was cleaning their house and doing little errands for 2 – 4 hours per week. I quit my job and took on caring for them full time when grandma was having trouble keeping up with the demands. Grandpa was not well when I started and I was aware I would likely be caring for him until his death.
He was 92 when he died and grandma will soon be 90. His rapid aging and health issues greatly overshadow the fact that grandma is only 2 years younger than him. He was a difficult man; he was not the most caring or considerate and this seemed to get worse as he aged. I would not have made it through helping to care for him into death if not for my kind and loving grandmother. I’m not sure if she’s an angel or insane, or perhaps a bit of both. (I’ve also started to wonder the same of myself!)
Modern medicine and science have been keeping grandpa alive for a very long time: he was on his fourth or fifth pace maker and had regular blood transfusions for more than a decade. Initially, just a few times per year but before going onto the hospice program in November he received 7 units of blood within 3 weeks. His body was just not able to keep him alive anymore.
The hardest part was watching him die while grandma made excuses for his controlling and manipulative behavior. He couldn’t do anything by himself, not even go to the bathroom. She would shuffle behind him once or twice an hour when he would declare, “I have got to go!” I could see the sadness and exhaustion in her eyes as she would shakily stand from her pink recliner but she rarely talked about it. As much as possible I ran around fetching things for him to save grandma’s aching arthritic legs and knees. Lots of microwaving his “friend” (wheat filled heating pad), grabbing phone, preparing and serving his meals, housework, paying household bills, gardening, preparing his medications, etc.
I have so much more to say and explain but I’m feeling exhausted from the week, so perhaps I will write more later. I’m looking forward to his funeral service on Tuesday and having the funeral preparations and stress end so I can start helping grandma recover and heal from her exhaustion.
Categories:death, my dysfunctional family is better than yours
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Less than a week until the wedding and the stress has been incredibly awful. Last week I decided to stop making decisions. I can tell my indifference to most things is annoying my mother but I don’t know how else to react. When I offer an opinion about my wedding, it is shot down so I can shut up or attempt to fight it out. Lame.
After telling my mother that I wanted to write a very carefully worded letter to Walt Disney thanking him for promoting the myth of fairytale weddings she told me that most brides give their mothers more responsibility so they don’t have to be all freaked out. It’s funny because I thought putting my mother in charge of making and transporting all of the food, coordinating borrowing tables, chairs, and tablecloths was a lot of responsibility. But apparently it is not enough because she continues to make shitloads of spreadsheets about everyfuckingdetail and lives for long conversations about table placement that make me dream of suicide. I don’t know what else to give her unless she wants to wear my wedding dress.
I just reread the previous paragraph and I am a total bitch! Which our good friends S and V told me is permitted. They said Mike and I both get a behavior “pass” this week. (But after the wedding they’ll start making a list – HA.)
S also saved me from my mother yesterday after the ridiculously overstressed transportation of the tables and chairs to the cabin. He jumped in and helped with discussing details I lacked the brainpower (or desire) to address. And at the end of the day when we were at S and V’s house, being fed delicious vodka cherry concoctions, S perfectly summed up the day of watching our families interact when he said, “There are too many cooks in the kitchen!” Suddenly I don’t feel so bad about mentally checking out and spending most of my day taking deep breaths and playing solitaire on Facebook.
Categories:Anxiety, Engagement, confession, fucking paradise, if anyone needs me I'll be drinking in my closet, my dysfunctional family is better than yours, wedding
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After an hour of discussing shit-loads of wedding planning details, the conversation turned to tables and chairs. The discussion was going NOWHERE. All I could think about was trying to get home in time to go swimming with Mike (which I wasn’t able to do). I finally burst out, “I could care less where people sit. For all I care they can eat off my ASS.” My mother replied, “Well then, your ass better be clean.” I think my mom is pretty awesome.
Categories:Anxiety, my dysfunctional family is better than yours, wedding, where's my medicine?
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My parents are on Facebook and it freaks me out. I don’t have any links between this website and Facebook so I still have a place where I can speak openly, but I still feel WEIRD.
It’s been a while since my mother entered the world of Facebook. I knew she was using (HA, HA) because she kept mentioning it in when I was around without specifically asking me why we weren’t friends because that’s how my family rolls: dysfunctional!
After months of ignoring passive aggressive Facebook chatter, this morning I received a friend request from my dad. He and I have always had a different relationship than my mother and I and it took me about two seconds before deciding to accept his request. I feel a little bad. This isn’t exactly news since I make feeling bad a hobby. HELL, I’m a damned professional! I don’t know if it is from my religious upbringing or my middle-child-ness, but if I were a super hero my power would likely be GUILT.
So now I feel like I should go through my Facebook crap and clean things out so as not to offend my parents, which is how I rationalized not being connected to them on there before, but I don’t want to have to watch who I am or pretend I’m something I’m not. I’m the foul-mouthed middle child who posts suggestive pictures of myself with Brigham Young statues or makes vomit hand signals while holding a Holy Temple book in the middle of the LDS section of the local bookstore. I also rant and rave about weirdness and living in Utah gives me PLENTY to rant about.
How many of you are connected to your parents on social networking websites? Am I the only one experiencing parental anxiety? HELP!
Categories:Anxiety, Childhood Cult, OH MY HORRORS, confession, if anyone needs me I'll be drinking in my closet, my dysfunctional family is better than yours, too bad I don't have mental health coverage, where's my medicine?
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Two years ago today I was living in the bay area and visiting my family in Utah. My parents had just moved into a new home and the express purpose of my visit was to see if I could handle moving to Utah and living with them so I could return to school. Quite a few of my friends thought I was crazy to move to Utah – especially to live with my parents. But I had reached a place with my job where I was tremendously unhappy didn’t give two shits about my work. Everyday was a challenge to get up and go to that job. I had worked long enough in that industry that I made a decent salary, which kept me there for 6 years, until I realized I just couldn’t take it anymore. Working in a job I loathed was sofa king unhealthy. It probably had a large affect my back problems and surgery from the year before.
Sure I could have taken classes while working (which I did) but it never got me anywhere. The thought of starting over and being able to attend school full time was the first thing that got me thinking about Utah. During my 2007 Memorial Day visit it was my little niece who stole my heart and sealed my decision to move. I have four other nieces but had never lived near any of them. Seeing how adorable my little eight-month-old niece was and realizing how much of an impact I could have on her life by being a regular part of it persuaded me to move.
I also didn’t want to one day regret not spending time with my parents while they are still around. I had a conversation with one of my uncles about how much he regrets not spending time with his parents when they lived in the same town because he was too busy working. I don’t want that to be me.
Even though I gripe about the liquor laws and fry sauce, I am glad that I made the move. I love seeing my niece and sister. We have a much closer relationship than ever before, I see my parents enough that they drive me crazy (sometimes), and I have met many fabulous new friends.
The biggest change, one that I wouldn’t have believed even if someone had told me, was meeting Mike. I have never felt as happy and secure in a relationship as I do with Mike. Certain things make sense that didn’t before and I am so happy to have clicked on (hello internet dating!) my true partner. He understands so much of the Mormon bullshit I grew up with because he is a non-Mormon raised in SLC. Plus he’s sensitive, hilarious, has an equally twisted sense of humor, and he’s a total hunk! I am thrilled for the next 46 days to fly by so we can be husband and wife.
Categories:All About Pants, Engagement, SLC FINALLY Owns!, happy happy joy joy, my dysfunctional family is better than yours, wedding
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I was proud of myself because the only time I cried was (very briefly) on the phone with my sister. Then I came home to a $3941 bill from the hospital for my D&C. (Commence freak out.) Hopefully my insurance company will pick some (er, ALL) of that up but I don’t have high hopes; thus far I have had shitty coverage at best.
Before I was realized I need to hold off worrying for a little bit, I had a complete breakdown. Which I think is an understandable reaction to receiving a large bill as a result of the miscarriage. I don’t think my reaction would have been quite so extreme if I weren’t already having some pretty serious financial problems…not knowing how I’m going to pay for my current bills, partly as a result of taking time off because of the miscarriage = stressful times infinity.
When I emailed my mother about the billing mess I told her I hoped my insurance would pick some of it up (AHEM, all of it) because opening a bill for the removal of our no longer viable fetus just seemed cruel upon the horror of everything else.
To which my mother replied: “You will eventually have to stop using statements about your baby that inflame your emotions. Think of nurturing statements to be good to yourself. Wrap a little blankee around yourself.”
I know my mother was just trying to be helpful, but COME ON! It’s been only been two weeks. I’m allowed to say whatever the fuck I want. I can use whatever statements I want about my no longer viable fetus (which I even toned down for her – I have no qualms working my way through my insurance phone tree repeatedly asking why they aren’t covering the removal of my dead baby from my uterus). Besides, that is EXACTLY what happened. The medical term is missed abortion: intrauterine pregnancy is present but is no longer developing normally with fetal demise prior to 20 weeks’ gestation.
My mother and I have always dealt with things differently. I have a more out-there approach to dealing with sadness and trauma. My mother will write two page emails with detailed descriptions of Sunday drives: white puffy clouds and how they look upon a blue sky, the way the road winds through the mountain, which wildflowers are in bloom and how many she pressed for later use, the book on CD they listened to, animals they may have passed, etc.. At the very end of the email she will include an incomplete sentence letting me know that my father’s bladder cancer* has recurred and he’ll be seeking treatment for it. F that.
So that was how my week, how was yours?
*My dad is currently fine; I was just using this as an example of our different methods of coping and communication.
Categories:Uncategorized, fuck you mother nature, miscarriage, my dysfunctional family is better than yours
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I survived Christmas, still in one piece, didn’t cry myself to sleep, and I still have an awesome boyfriend who makes me extremely happy. He gets double awesome points for meeting my uber religious sister, her husband, their four (EXTREMELY LOUD) daughters, and STILL loving me.
He held up like a champ under a perverse and strange round of something my sister called “Getting To Know You” but was more like an intensive 25 point inspection. I sat down in between him on the couch and a herd of my female relatives ranging in age from 2 to 64 and he said something about needing to create a word estro-sault. He’s pretty fucking incredible.
Categories:barfing rainbows, my dysfunctional family is better than yours, stuff I put in my mouth
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I feel a little like I was just run over by a car. I survived finals, though I fear I will be repeating math. (BOO!) I would love to see if my teacher has posted our grades, but there’s a bloody hold on my grades and registration. I paid the fee and they still haven’t fucking removed the hold. BAH! I’ve been working on getting it fixed all week. It CANNOT be this complicated. Not that it matters, I’m sure my asshole teacher hasn’t posted our grades yet. When I turned in my final he handed me the last two tests. That would have been helpful information before taking the final. It also would have been helpful if he had taught the information on the goddamn final. But I suppose that’s asking too much, huh?
My grandma is in the hospital. I went by after work and spent a few hours with her, kept her company until she was moved her from the ER to a room. She was really sweet and asked me all sorts of questions about my man. I had a nice time visiting with her; I only wish it were under better circumstances. She’ll probably be in the hospital until the weekend. Tomorrow they’re going to do an endoscopy so hopefully we’ll know more. Please keep my grams in your thoughts and prayers.
Categories:getting my learn on, my dysfunctional family is better than yours
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- Falling in love is fucking fantastic!
- I’m not trying to make y’all puke rainbows or anything, but I had NO idea it was even possible to find reciprocal love of this level.
- Though it does not encourage writing material, which is preferable to bullshit drama.
- The holidays are upon us, so I will soon have family drama to rely on for writing inspiration.
- My BFF and her husband are coming to visit the day after Christmas. I’m excited because this is their first time to visit Utah.
- Immediately after they made their travel arrangements, my older sister decided she and her husband would come with their gajillion kids during the exact same time.
- I have yet to tell my sister that I won’t be around much during her visit…which is sure to go over fucking swell.
- I cannot wait to sleep in for a few days.
- My niece clobbered my face with “big baby” yesterday when I wasn’t looking…and now I have a freaking bump on my nose. JOY!
- I desperately need an algebra boost before my final, but I’m pissed my teacher offered it during the bloody holiday weekend.
- I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do for Christmas gifts…except that I will be making every single gift.
Categories:I've had better mornings, my dysfunctional family is better than yours, puking rainbows
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