So it's been a long time since I last posted. Honestly I don't know if this post will just turn into brain vomit that will never be posted or if I will get happy enough with it that it see the light of the web. Either way my hope is that by at least writing this stuff out and purging it from my brain more or less I will feel some better about things.
Shit may get deep so if you aren't interested in that or are looking for fluffy feel good, this ain't the place right now.
So what all has happened in the last few years...
My beautiful daughter has graduated from both high school and Pellissippi State with her associates degree. She is currently enrolled at Maryville college in their teacher licensure program. She also has a steady boyfriend who seems to be an ok guy.
I quit my job working for the county school system and went through a phlebotomy certification program. I finished that excited to start out on a new career path. I had a bit of trouble finding a phlebotomy job so I took a job doing bio-metric screenings for large companies. This job meant I had to travel a bit which wasn't bad and it paid really well. However about two months in my boss had a heart attack and dies unexpected. It was a small independent company. His college age daughter has tried to keep it going and really for it to have been sprung on her she has done surprisingly well. As luck would have it just when things with that job were starting to plain back out we found my 70 year old mother half naked lying in her kitchen floor disoriented and unable to get up. She had been there several hours and wasn't able to get to the phone. While we knew her health had been deteriorating over the last bit we didn't realize how bad she really was. So I spent the next week at her house cleaning it up (it was a real shit mess) and trying to clean and feed her back to some semblance of human. When we found her in the floor she weighed 64 pounds. She looked like a refugee. Much to my chagrin she refuses to this day to go to the Dr and find out what is going on. I am pretty sure she has some type of dementia or Alzheimers, but we don't know for sure. So that's one part of the fun that is my life. It was decided after a few weeks of trying to ride two horses with one ass taking care of my mother and keeping up with my own house that something had to give. I looked into hiring someone to come in and help her with cleaning, someone to keep up the yard, and someone to check in on her, but it just wasn't financially doable. So the idea was that John, Meg and I would sell our house and move in with her to take care of her and the homeplace. This was the first major mistake that we made. Let me give you some back story so this part will make more sense. My mother and I have never been close. EVER. I have pretended and dreamed of a close relationship with her. I have tried in my mind to make the relationship that we have into something great, loving, and beneficial to my life. It is not and never has been. I was born 10 1/2 years after my brother. I was a surprise and best I can tell not a great or happy one for my mom. I think she thought she was done raising babies since my brother was 10 and born an old man. Then surprise along came me. I had colic, ADHD and I was a girl. ( my mom really would have preferred me to be a boy. In her words she could just relate and deal with them better.) so basically I was fucked from the jump. My childhood was spent being shuffled from one activity to another so that she didn't have to deal with me. She also refused to deal with my GLARINGLY OBVIOUS ADHD. She said it was just the diagnosis of the moment and there was no such thing. So I spent the majority of my early school days at silent lunch and sitting out during playground time. I struggled knowing that I should be better, sit still, be quiet, pay attention, and not be a weirdo. but I just couldn't seem to make it happen. My dad who was a great guy and I have no doubt was happy to have me as an addition to the fam was an over the road truck driver until I was about 14 so he was gone for most of my young life. I don't fault him or harbor any ill will toward him. He was doing what he thought was best to provide for his family. So the long and short of it is this my mom was distant, disengaged, and always striving to be the coolest baddest whatever. Coolest mom, biggest bad ass in the room, best employee, hottest chick or whatever. I have said many times lately looking back that she was so full of shit that I didn't know how she was able to be ambulatory. She also made it pretty obvious to everyone that my brother was her favorite and I was just a pain in her ass. Case in point I was 8 mins late getting home from work one night because I had hit a giant bullfrog in the road on the way home and had stopped to collect him and cry because I felt like shit for running him over. When I got home and explained what happened she told me " I am done with you, you are your fathers problem to deal with now" Seriously I was 8 mins late getting home from the job I got two days after I turned 16 and could drive myself there. I was never in any serious trouble in school. I didn't drink, do drugs or party. I was a bit of an outcast loser who hung-out with pretty much whoever. So it's not like I had this massive bunch of shitty kid baggage for her to throw up at me for being late. This was the first time I think it really hit me that she really didn't give a shit about me and never really had. I was the kid who was always sickly with strep or whatever and she wouldn't take me to the Dr. or if she did she would make up a reason not to do what they advised. I needed my tonsils out pretty badly. She told me if I waited long enough they would rot out and it wouldn't be an problem anymore. I still have my tonsils but they look a bit like swiss cheese from all the damage done from the repeated bouts of strep. I had terrible TMJ and she told the dentist on my second visit ever that she wouldn't pay to have braces because I was making it up. Her way to avoid that problem was to not take me to the dentist anymore. So at 20 my husband and I paid out of pocket for my braces to correct my screwed up jaw because our insurance wouldn't pay for adult orthodontics. When I was smallish and would get into kid trouble that would warrant a spanking it didn't really do that much to curb my behavior (hello ADHD not much impulse control) so around 8 or so she gave up spanking me and adopted a back hand maneuver. Granted this only happened five or six times it was still enough to scar me a bit. The last one happened when I was about 14 because I wanted to change around the contents of my dresser drawers and she didn't think it needed it. I did it anyway because it was my dresser. Bad call on my part. Funny thing I can tell you how many times she whacked me but couldn't tell you how many times she hugged me in my lifetime and it's not because they were to numerous to count...
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