Yes, I’m Bitching
Yes, I’m Bitching, but if I don’t let it out my head will explode.
One, paranoid schizophrenic who won’t keep his medz schedule. One bi-polar with attention deficit disorder, manageable but still annoying after awhile. Neither can speak right without an extreme effort, an effort not made often. Especially during any sport program that happens to be on.
A bathroom the size of a coat closet, tiny living room with barely the space for a couch and a big screen TV. A small cluttered bedroom that is rumored to actually contain a bed. The cat swears there is one in there somewhere, but i think he just lost a toy under the mess and wants me to dig it out.
My desk is next to the stove, which is used constantly, as these two do nothing but eat, play video games and nap like cats throughout the day and night, on no particular schedule. It’s nearly impossible to have a private chat or even spend five minutes trying to write something with someone over my shoulder every few minutes.
I sleep whenever it’s quiet enough, which isn’t often, between the blaring TV, people coming and going all the time and being asked what I’m doing every twenty minutes. Even while trying to go to sleep I get asked what I’m doing. Pretending I’m dead doesn’t help, sometimes I actually get WOKE UP and asked what I’m doing.
It also doesn’t help, not knowing Where I’m going to sleep. Could be a couch, or a space on the floor near a closet depending how many are here and whats going on. I would sleep IN the closet except everything I own is in there and I’m afraid of being trapped under an avalanche of clothes, DVD’s and certain other items that won’t be mentioned where the F.B.I might run across the list.
Someone I love and care for very much is sick and in the hospital again. A few hundred miles away and theirs nothing I could do for her even if I Could be there, other than just be there for her.
Someone else I care deeply for and have an attachment to is dying. Painfully an possibly within weeks, possibly within days if anything else goes wrong with her. I’ve lost track of her problems, even the Doctors need a score-card, she has so many system failures piling up.
I haven’t seen two of my children in over a year, they live too far away and being teens their always busy. I’m happy for them, they have some good friends and a real chance at making something of themselves. My baby girl will be a year in a few months and I’ve only seen her twice, she was asleep both times. I may never see her again if her mother dies, which I pray everyday she won’t and not just for my lil monsters sake.
There are a thousand other aggravations each day but those are the pressing ones.
My roommates, well many of their problems are not their faults so I bite my tongue alot.I could deal with them better, if I didn’t Live with them or at least had some privacy. A room to disappear into and have some time for my thoughts would make a world of difference here.
My two children, it’s always been this way to a degree, someday we’ll catch up I suppose. If not, I’ll be proud as any other Father whether I’ there to see their accomplishments or not.
My baby girl, I miss her but she doesn’t even know me, so it’s not a problem for here. She’s healthy, happy and loved, that matters the most.
My friend in the hospital, not the first time and probably not the last. She’s a strong person though, stronger than I could hope to be. I worry, but she always worries more about Me than herself at these times, when that stops, then I’ll get scared.
My baby-momma (I just like sayin that) That’s a situation I’m still working thru. As is, God will or won’t do something, there Are no other options now. I do mean None unless Dr. House jumps out of the TV and works a medical miracle. Which would be cool in So many ways.
I’m done bitching now.
Oh, and my ‘net sucks and some donut head was playin with my site, pretty sure the Blog is fixed now.