I’m such a simple person. I’m an intovert unless I need and I mean NEED not to be. I’m the person who gets over stuff until my face is rubbed in the mess 100 times. Probably I’m full of selfishness.
I cry over my kids and always wonder how different things might have been If I’d realized I was as important in their lives as their father. I miss relationships that didn’t develop. I miss grandchildren I never see. I am to be estranged from another grown child over a dog – and I think how ironic that a dog is what my mother and grandmother ‘s relationship broke over. Steve was talking about my lack of boundaries again last night and how I let myself be used at a time I had no right to say YES. I get angry at him when he says that, but in a way, he’s right. I crossed a line when HE needed protecting. I told him that it wouldn’t matter if he died right then, I’m done being disrespected and called names. This thing with my daughter- the latest update states how she entrusted her dog to me WHICH IS A LIE – she dropped him off at my house, with her brother who almost starved the dog because of his Aspergers and I wasn’t there for 3 months because of the stroke and rehab. I look like a nut who gave consent and then in the middle of her project is being unreasonable and messing things up. She was supposed to be gone and back in 45 days. We even threatened to not let her have the dog back except he doesn’t fit in with ours. He came with fleas which we can’t afford to treat, he fights over food and pushes for dominance, he shits on my carpet. And still we love on him, but he senses he’s out of place.
Even when she comes, maybe next week, she’s homeless, no car, I can only hope she has a place to go…and we have to close our minds to what happens to this dog that deserves so much better and to another daughter. Sigh…Kaiha is beating the record for the fastest time on the AT but she didn’t follow the rules so it will be unofficial. What good is that? I’m sure the experience has been life altering, but it’s ending. Now she says she never wants to see me again after she gets the dog and I’m to the point I don’t care. She says I am emotionally abusing her for saying I dont want her and her dog. I feel like the sacrifice we were forced to make (by her not coming as agreed) has been for nothing. Of course they blame Steve for me setting any boundaries at all and I’ve had the fact I left them with their dad used as excuse to call me an asshole AGAIN… I get that my kids don’t like him, but he’s not the problem. He’s my problem, but not THE problem. The lack of respect they have towards anyone not themselves is the problem. I say they…but it crops up individually… and they are a group.
Yesterday I came across a picture of Olive. The only one I ever got of kayla’s baby girl . A couple of weeks ago, V and I talked about how they will pay for me to visit when I can leave Steve and G. Who knows if that will ever happen? I know I think too much.
You know what I want? A Doctor Who knitting marathon, real food instead of crap, and my meds which I can’t afford. I’d like paint for my house, and for my windows, birdseed, and money for pots to plant my irises in … simple stuff – and a bit of peace. I want to get up, say Thank you, and have it not be forced through the mesh of someone else’s upset.
And today is Kay’s birthday. I don’t get to feel about THAT either.
Kaiha has decided she doesn’t want to see me again after she picks up her dog. I hate to say the feeling is mutual, but it is. She doesn’t understand how she uses people on a personal level. I’m tired of being called names when our needs don’t sync up. I get it on both sides because Steve pressures me as well. Thing is, Kaiha is an adult outside my home, and Steve is my husband – and while he’s recovering from the stroke, he is my responsibility. I’m so tired of needing to SAY “take your shit and go on.” My home would have peace if my daughter were responsible instead of flighty… I have her dog which tears stuff up and fights mine. My screens, my carpet, all the toys are destroyed, he growls at my husband for sneezing. 45 days has turned into 9 months. I am not ok with this. She may be setting a world record, but it feels like it’s happening at my expense. Definitely at ALL the dog’s expenses. Because I’m not in her cheering section, I’m accused of being emotionally abusive. WHATEVER. I am done. V is pretty quiet and doesn’t say much. Taryn and G … time will tell. My middle three … I give them to the ALL. May they find their own peace.
We have a truce. He’ll stay until he’s well enough to leave, then he’s going off to deal with unfinished business. Who knew I’d have to let go of my dreams to save them? Maybe he’ll come back, hopefully he gets things repaired with his daughters. He wants to sell the house or trade it.
Actually, he’s so much better this week that when I’m not looking at him, I could almost forget the stroke. Doctor said the manic emotions are right on point for his healing. Tonight, he’s tired too. 2-4 hours isn’t much sleep for either of us. He made me get up with him at 4:15 this morning. I could kill him, but his lip quivered and he said I’m all he has. So I made him tea and let him talk.
This thing called stroke is wicked.
My husband: so close to being better but the mind has developed an irrational blip. Screaming out in anger, slamming the cane, working out how I am responsible for things gone wrong since my infancy in ways that can never be forgiven. His mind is able to remember everything he has ever experienced and he forgives nothing and no one. He is the smartest man in the world and he is leaving me. Convinced he can go back to his old house and fix it and sell it with no money, no job, he can’t drive, the house is ransacked and empty and moving through foreclosure. HE is going back. The man I fell in love with was kind and generous and is gone. He didn’t die. He may even recover from his stroke. I can’t understand because I didn’t have it. My heart isn’t broken today…it crumbled 8 months ago. I want him to go. I’ve had enough too. God forgive me. I’ve had enough.
Doctor’s appointment is on Tuesday. Without the stress of me and my grown kids who don’t deserve to live, he will probably decide he doesn’t need his medicine.
8 months after the stroke and he’s leaving … The man stood in my living room screaming at me how he’s going to kill my daughter over a text message she sent. Yes, she was mad at me, and yes I showed him after days of being accused of not trusting him and hiding things. There is no winning here. He says he’s leaving and this time, stroke or not, I’m letting him go. His family can deal with him. I’m sorry he thinks he’s wasted his life with worthless people. I can’t win with a man who never forgives or forgets. So that’s that.
Another explosive day…
Steve has this way of going over the same thing over and over – You should have just done this – (it used to be focused on my kids which would bring this same reaction from me)Well I couldn’t hear it picked apart and gone over again and I cut him off and said I wasn’t going to listen to it again. He turns it around and says how he just needs to talk it out – but it’s not talking anything out. It hurts me so much to go back to the week of his stroke. I can’t change things. I thought the house was in the final throes of being foreclosed on and I took what I could, and walked away. It was raining so terribly the day we tried to pack that truck and the kids were working through mud and goop in the cold and cat shit was everywhere. I told the people who came to help that they could have things – a crock pot, a pressure washer, the computer, an electric guitar. I never expected to go back, EVER and I turned and walked away. My friends know how I agonized over leaving the cats. The hospital was not caring for Steve correctly and I could barely stand to leave him. I had had no sleep and was in intense pain myself – to the point I had my chest pains checked out in emergency. Steve’s brother had frightened me to death telling me to get back to Atlanta because decisions had to be made and as next of kin, I had to make them. Doctors really didn’t talk to me clearly and I was told his prognosis wasn’t good and I was a mess. Steve keeps saying how I can’t understand unless the stroke happens to me – but he also can’t understand what me and G went through. It was/is the most horrible time of all our lives. He feels betrayed and victimized to have had his things stolen and picked over and given away. I understand – Kayla did it to me and my stuff wasn’t thrift store finds and speakers. He’s right, His brother doesn’t value his stuff and I didn’t value his stuff. I felt it was a hoarder’s junk and ran from it. Really, I’m not trying to downplay anything. I did a terrible job of managing that first week. I was told he’d be tube fed and he was on a catheter and couldn’t move or talk or answer me or open his eyes most of the time. I want to be here for him to work through his loss, but I can’t do it from a healed place yet. It’s an open wound for me still. I see pictures of him whole and before the stroke and sometimes I just cry. I miss him so much. Today, I wouldn’t let him talk about this again. I need him to know the other side and stop going back there to the house and the things that are so very neglected. He almost died there. Our kitties suffered there. I can’t hear how we shouldn’t have had so many or how I shouldn’t have told him to work for Sam. He thought we had thousands of dollars when we were down to 1 thousand dollars and he wouldn’t hear me that the money was gone. He was suffering and he was sick and hungry and we were so alone. I try to tell him things and he won’t hear me because he’s busy looking back and laying guilt – and although he says he’s not laying it on me, he’s angry and hurt and does it over and over and this time, I couldn’t be silent and take it. And he cried and was hurt again – because even though BETTER is becoming a word we can use, he’s not always better and I am incredibly tired. Today I am so hot and he is so hot and we just fought and I hurt him AGAIN. I had to leave and I went grocery shopping, and he’s in bed, not talking to me. And my God I wish he seemed older than 10 in his interactions because I could really use a good fuck. He says he doesn’t feel like a man. Maybe I am causing that, but He doesn’t seem like a grown up dealing with a bad situation. He seems like a little boy and I feel like a hover mom trying to anticipate his next need. I wish we knew how close to healing he is and if this is our norm, then we can deal with that. I feel like he’s getting better – he sounds more like his own self. But there are some things we just need to not do to each other. Today’s round of words was one of them.