michellegirl's Journal

I have had many things happen in my lifetime, but the past 6 years have just been hard.  Don't get me wrong, I know there are other people with much more on their plate than me.  I have a feeling of total helplessness, weakness, pain(emotionally and physically), and sadness.  Yes, I am a rape victim.  Yes, I am a victim of molestation.  Yes, I was diagnosed with systemic lupus, fibromalgia(I am sure that is not the correct spelling....don't care right now), and ehler danlos syndrome, depression, post tramatic stress disorder, and I am sure there are other things.  I have been a drug addict.  I have been a drug dealer.  These are not my problems right now.

I have lost 6 people in my life over the past 6 years.  4 in my immediate family.  A friend.  A lover.  It seems that is all I do is clean out people's past.  I am still surrounded by other people's "stuff".  Its exhausting.  Don't get me wrong.  The things I want to get rid of are gone.  There may be a few items, but I have not gotten to them yet.  I feel like I have packed up and moved 6 times.  For the past couple of years all I have done is move things to another location.  At least now, it is all in one place.  I have had people offer help, but how can you help when everything you pick up you will have to consult me about it.  It would be nice to have someone in the family(whats left of them) help, but I have given up on thinking that is going to happen.  I don't blame them.  I probably would not do it either if I did not have to do it.  I just find myself not wanting to do anymore. I have people tell me to take a break.  How long is a break?  I mean really?  How long?  A few days, a few months, a few years?  I mean when you get right down to it leaving it does not help.  It's still there.  Yes, I could take a trip and leave for a while, but it will be there when I return. 

I know people are trying to help, but you really don't know unless you are going through it.  Let me paint you a picture.  My father left when I was young 10-11.  Looking back he did me a favor.  I have one sister, younger by 5 years.  I have always been the one to take care of things.  No, we got no money from my father.....Ever.  He does not acknowledge us.  My mother worked minimum wage jobs to support us.  I took care of the house, my sister, and what ever else a partner is supposed to do in a marriage.  We were what they call "latch key" kids.  I did a lot of bad things when I was younger, but the house was always clean, laundry done, dinner made, sister was still alive.  I did drugs.  I sold drugs and put the money in my mother's purse.  We talked about it during the beginning of her illness in my later teens, but over the years the disease took her memories.  I think in many ways she denied those memories because it would have broke her heart.  I left high school.  I got a job.  I went to a secretarial school.  I helped pay the bills.  There was no new car.....Ever.  I learned to sign her name on her tax returns......I am a great forgerist.  A talent that is misunderstood.  I had to....we could not afford not to turn them in and we needed the refund.  If she was in the hospital and awake I would bring them, but she would always say, "Why do you bother?  You can sign my name just as well as I can."  A joke with us.  My mother's parents were our saving grace.  Without them.....Well, lets just say we would have had to eat our government cheese outside.  My grandmother was my best friend.  My grandfather was my father.  They were my everything to me.  I visited them once or twice a week for life.  Not including the phone calls.  My mother, when I was not living with her, I would talk to or see once or twice a day. 

My grandmother went first.  I was the last one to see her.  She was hiding pills.  She knew she was going.  I remember picking out her outfit for viewing and getting everything ready for the funeral.  My Aunt(my mother's sister in law) considered me her favorite niece.  I took care of her pets and her house when she was away.  I could do no wrong in her eyes.  She was also diagnosed with systemic lupus....She ruled her roost, but I never took any crap from her.  Don't get me wrong, I was not rude.  I just called her out.  She would act shocked and then laugh.  She could be rude, snooty, and overbearing.  I handled her well.  When she passed away in the hospital.  I left work and met my uncle(my mother's brother) in the ICU waiting room.  I was the first one to arrive.  I took his cell phone and started making calls until his children arrived.  I went to my grandparents house every Sunday after my grandmother passed or more to do laundry and spend time with my grandfather.  He would not let us get rid of her clothes for two years.  I was supposed to go there one Sunday and decided I had too much laundry and went to the laundry mat.  I was there Saturday before and watched my grandfather go for his ride and walk for the day.  He was found in the driveway, car door opened, car still running.....I should have been there.  It kills me to think that he was out all night until someone found him Sunday.  It took over a year to clear their place.  Sometimes I would get a couple of hours out of someone from the family, but mostly it was me and my mother.  My mother was not well enough to do much.  Yard work alone kept me busy.  I thought about keeping the place and fixing it up.  My mother decided not to do so.  Probably for the best.  I miss the hell out of that place.  Every once in a while I drive past or stop in to see how the new couples renovations are coming along.  My mother continued to get worse.  What didn't she have wrong with her.  I knew as time went on I would have to move in with her.  Just felt it.  I promised her I would not put her in a home.  I took a leave from my job.  No choice really.  It was either that or get fired for losing too much time at work.  I could not have my son going to school where my mother was living.  I knew what it was.  The hood.  I packed him up clothes, furniture, and all and drove to Hannibal, MO to his father.  It killed me to leave him there, but I knew where my mother's illness was heading.  I did not think he needed to see it.  6 months later I moved in with my mother.  It was difficult, but she was getting worse and worse with dementia.  I put alarms on the doors, baby monitors everywhere, etc.  I slept maybe 2-4 hours a day.  In the end, the hospital suggested hospice.  I thought about having her at home.  I was lucky I found a 12 bed hospice that looked like a 5 star hotel.  She was ok with it.  She was not ok with dying.  I was there when she passed.  I remember sitting by her bed telling her to go see her mom and dad and that we loved her.  I saw the light go out of her eyes.  I will never forget that day.  I will never forget what I saw. 

Now, I live in her home going through her things, my grandparents things, other people's things.  It surrounds me.  People tell me they know how I feel.....they don't.  I spent a good bit of time getting rid of things.  Apparently there is a hoarder gene in the family.  Sometimes that is good...you find treasures.  Sometimes it just sucks.  I have changed furniture, painted, and still in the process of remodeling.  I keep thinking that maybe I won't cry for a day if I just get the changes done.  How many of you could lose your parents and then have to live in their house.  Most people look at me and shut up.  They would not live there.  I can't leave at this time.  It is not financially feasible.  I am not working, but I do make an effort to find work.  Honestly, it is not a real good effort.  I tried to get back into my old workplace, but due to economic downturns there is not much available. 

I tell myself I could just leave.......I could just stop the emotional pain.  I could stop the physical pain that seems to be with me daily.  I could just leave.  End it.  How could I make my life insurance pay out?  Then my type A personality comes out.  Who would bury me?  My sister took months with my mother's tombstone.  I would probably be on ice for months....I would be the Michael Jackson of the family.  What about my son?  What about my cats?  What about my nephew?  What about my sister?  I don't think she could handle it.  She has not done well with the others.  So, I sit here another day and look around at what needs to be done.  I sit here saying to myself that you have to get it together and find a job.  I sit here another day crying.  I sit here sometimes in the silence and wonder if I will make it another day. 

I could leave...............................................I could not