Buradi's Journal

It is currently 4:40 in the morning.  I have not slept a wink tonight.  Mom came home from work today...well, yesterday, and got my little sister and went to the doctor.  A piggy-back doctor's appointment.  Two in one.  My little sister has acid reflux.  She just has to keep being a copycat, mimicking her older sister, doesn't she.  No, I'm joking.  I'm glad she hasn't mimicked me in all ways.  Of course, the most important ways she doesn't know about.  My mom has bronchitis.  Which means I need to get out of this house.  I get bronchitis when someone gives me a COLD!  If someone gives me BRONCHITIS, I'll surely get pneumonia!  That could surely kill my weakling body!  Not good.  Then, when she got home, she laid down in bed with a headache.  Next thing I knew, she had thrown up in the bathroom.  I heard her.  I have a horribly severe phobia of vomit and vomiting, no matter who's doing the vomiting.  Ever since then, she's been vomiting non-stop, getting worse and worse.  Since her bronchitis is so dangerous to me, my little sister has been stuck cleaning up after our mother.  Our father was drunk out of his mind and is a selfish son of a bitch, especially when drunk, so we couldn't expect him to help.  My brother was out playing card games and Dungeons and Dragons with his friends.  We called the doctor on-call twice.  The second time, when we told him she wasn't keeping anything down, he called in a prescription to an all-night pharmacy.  We called my brother, who takes after his father, and he acted like it was all a conspiracy to make him miserable because we needed him to get our mother the medicine so she could stop throwing up.  Dad was definitely to drunk to go get it.  Even if he would have.  My brother decided to take as long as possible to do what was asked of him.  Mom finally gave us permission to call 911.  The ambulance came and the paramedic said she probably has the flu and to try to drink as much as she can keep down and for my little sister and I to stay away from her.  He also said he couldn't take her to the hospital because it was full of patients with the same flu.  He left and my brother took his friend to his dorm room half an hour away and then came home and didn't have the medicine and said that I didn't tell him on the phone to get it and where from.  I had specifically told him what street the friggin' pharmacy's on!  So, he went and got it and Mom has finally gotten some relief and is sleeping.  My siblings and father are sleeping as well.  But, fear, flashbacks, and insomnia are doing very well at keeping me up tonight.  At least I have AIM and my boyfriend.  He cares.  He promised to stay awake to help me.  Promises don't mean much to me, but they do to him, so I know he means it.  He knows my problem with vomit and that my mom's been vomiting.  My problem with vomit is due to my uncle, my first abuser.  He used to torture me horribly physically and sexually and emotionally and mentally.  When I vomited, he punished me horribly.  Hitting, cursing, yelling, insulting, cutting with a scalpel, burning with a red-hot metal stick from the fire, and more r.  And worse that I don't remember.  I just know it was worse.  Great, I'm now developing a cough.  Of course, it could be from stomach acids bubbling up into my already inflamed throat.  I'll take some Tums and see if that helps.  In the morning, I'm going to see if I can go to a friend's house or dorm room until Mom's better.  If I don't log on in a few days, I'm probably at a friend's.  I'll probably sleep a lot once I get there.