Rehab..

My dad is making tremendous progress, but I don't think I'm doing so well.

I'm scared for him, I don't know whats going to happen in the next few months or how he'll be able to adjust to things. But atleast he's off of his ventilator, and breathing on his own.

Yesterday the nurse told me he was so stable, that they can take his heart monitor out. Thats great news! So not only is he breathing, and talking, but he is over his pneumonia, and hasn't had any heart problems. His blood pressure is doing well, and now they're working on getting him to swallow without aspirating, because they want to make sure he doesn't get pneumonia again.

Today I went to visit him, he sat up, and we talked and visited. The nurses bug him a lot, theres always someone coming into his room to check on something, be it his temperature, his lungs, or his blood pressure. The nurses are all really nice, they want to see him get better as much as I do.

I brought him a little word game to play, it has a touch screen, but I didn't realize that his tremors are getting worse, so if he hits a button once, his hand shakes so much he hits it about 20 times, so I think he may get frustrated with it, I'll pick up a black jack game for him, thats easy and entertaining.

I just got a phone call that they moved him from the hospital, to the physical rehabillitation center. Thats great news! I feel like things are moving a little too fast though, they just told me this morning they were going to discharge him later in the week, and now its the end of the day and he's already been moved. I'm proud of his progress, but I need more time to consider things and let them settle in my brain before we make a big change like that again.

I'm now looking into assisted living, for when he finishes rehab, I know he will be able to walk but I think my dad really needs someone to continue to take care of him even if its just for his mental stability. My gramma always loved the girls that came to help her at home, it brightened up her day even if she didn't need them to do anything for her. I understand its really expensive at some places, but it would definitely be worth it, and I think his medical insurance should cover some of the costs. I don't know still, I need to make time to go and check a few places out.

Thats pretty much it for now, I'm excited to see my dad get better, it was nice talking to him as grown ups and being able to help him out a little today. I hope he's able to live his life with some happines and light in it from now on, I'll take better care of him than my brother ever did, he seems to be pretty cold hearted about our dad now. But I'm not holding any grudges, and I'm not judging him anymore, we've got many things to look forward to together, and I hope my brother can get over his dueche baggery quickly so he can share this time with us.

Press Play....

Here is just an example of how absolutely brilliant this band is, every note, every tinge in the voice, and every emotion emulated in this song are exactly what The Cure couldn't bring forth in their original version, The Deftones just bring so much more to music than I can put into words. As monumental as The Cure is in our day... The Deftones trump ALL.

a letter... sort of.

Please press play before you begin reading this blog.
When I was probably about 4 or 5 years old, I was at home with my dad, and the video camera. He put together a little video of our day at home together, to this song... and since I could remember, I've always thought of it as our song.



I've written a letter to my dad in my mind. I'm scared to put the words infront of me.

When I had just finished high school I decided to start writing short stories about things that I imagined happening in the future. One of those stories was about my dad's funeral. I remember writing about seeing myself lying infront of me, because he and I have the same face. That was a depressing time for me, just like these days are now. But what I had written before was written with anger, and resentment, and hate. I regret having imagined those things to be true now.

In those dark days, I resented my dad for the things that I have been through in my life. Today, I thank him for them. He really has molded me into a strong minded, strong hearted, bold, woman. And I am proud to be his daughter, no matter how little anyone else may think of him, he is still everything to me. Because he made me this way, and I love who I am.

Its becoming harder and harder to fight back tears; as each day passes, I know its one day less that he will be here with me. I don't know how to make the decisions I have to make now, he would want me to let him go peacefully without feeling any pain, or knowing that he's about to be gone. I don't want him to leave not know all the things I've wanted to say to him in the years that have passed.

I don't care about the hate that I had for him anymore, all I care about, is letting him know that I do love him, I do honor him, and I don't look back and hurt from the things he has done, instead... I look back and I understand. I understand what he did, why he did it, and that he and I don't have to think or speak about it... ever. All we have to do, is know that it happened, and it was supposed to.

I'm unsure about how my mom feels about any of this, she seems shocked and sad, but I don't know my mom as an emotional person. My brother is sad, but his life is just starting as my father's is ending... which are you supposed to choose? He has to leave, thats the way this is all supposed to happen now, and I've been chosen to carry this weight because as much as I may have been abused and mistreated in my lifetime by this man, it was for a reason, because I am him, we are the same person... and no one else could do this but me, its what I was made to do.

I carry his face with me always, his skin, his hair, his eyes... and I never question who is staring back at me in the mirror. Who's heart is feeling hurt when I cry, and who's hands tremble infront of me when I'm scared. I carry things with me that I never really appreciated before, and I never realized how much I should honor myself for being this person.

It makes me sad to think about all of the other people in my life now, that don't appreciate what they wear on their skin. All of the chances I had to visit my dad, to console him when he was sick, or to tell him I loved him... they're gone now. No one realizes until the curtain is about to drop, that they had so many chances to show someone what they mean, and it scares me... it hurts me.

Press Play..

This seems fitting, and pretty much a straight hit on what I'm feeling right now.

frustration

I don’t know what I want to write about anymore. I feel like I have no feelings besides disgust and resentment. Towards myself of course. I’m not happy.

I’m not happy with the direction I’ve taken. I feel like I’ve trapped myself in a dream I had years ago. I wanted to live where happiness could never end. But it does. It ends everywhere I go. There’s that feeling of newness, and I’m always searching for it.

My friends are scarce these days. They’re growing up just as I am. Maybe I grew up too fast. I have a cushy life, a seemingly wonderful husband, a beautiful new home, loving pets, and no boundaries. But now I feel like I can’t escape, I want to feel young again. I want to be married, and still have a free life. But marriage traps you, I love having my husband and our life together. But there are things I want to explore, that I don’t feel I’m allowed to explore, and that is the world.

I want to go places, no where particular, I just want to go. I live a robotic life, and I need a break in the everyday patterns I’ve been tracing for the past year. I just want to leave, I want to go somewhere that’s unfamiliar, and explore what the other people out there do. And quickly come home and get back to my daily routine.

I sit outside and smoke my cigarettes, and I think about my dad. How much I feel like him. I wondered what he would do all this time after burning all of the bridges he’s crossed these 23 years. Now for the past five, he’s been insignificant, with nothing to do but be. I know why he drinks, I know why he sulks, I know why he obsesses. Because there’s nothing else to do.

I’m torn between the life I want to have, and the life I need to have. I want to be happily married, live in this home, have children, and be settled. But I need to be free, to roam around and discover the things I haven’t discovered yet. Small town life has blown past me, city life was a blur, and suburban life has yet to really set in yet. But I want the free open space to be my friend. I want to drive for hours and go nowhere. Look at the scenery and imagine what I’d do in every place that I pass by.

My family is torn apart, mostly because of me. My constant searching for a new thing and my want to hurry up and live has tarnished my family. My brother is grown, moving to the city to have a career and become something. My mom is happily settled into the little life she lives. My father is wasting away. And I made the crack that spread into this epidemic of what’s meant to be. I was ready for a change, after fourteen years of abuse whether it was from myself or not, I made a decision that changed me forever.

I forced my family to become broken, I forced my brother into a dreamers world, I forced my father into depression worse than I believe he had ever suffered before, and I forced my mother into the happy life she lives today. I forced myself into adulthood. Is this the universe’s way of finally making my mom’s life right? By using me as a tool, to put her on the path to a copasetic existence, and that’s just what it is. To anyone else but her of course. Its just copasetic, nothing extraordinary, nothing fragile or breakable, she has a strong, well molded life now. While I’m breaking apart into little pieces over still needing something new.

But what’s new? Nothing is new. I’ve lived it all, at least that’s how I feel. There’s one thing that I haven’t yet lived, and that’s nirvana. Self nirvana. I have never been fully satisfied.

My obsessions and compulsive patterns are wrecking my life. Walking is exhausting to my mind. I’m tired of matching steps, I’m tired of drawing patters, and I’m tired of shuffle stepping to make everything right. And I’m speaking literally here. I don’t mention my obsessive behavior much, because it drives me insane. Matching my steps to the person in front or beside me. Its never ending and I sigh now when I have to shuffle to switch my steps to match another pedestrian’s ahead of me.

I’m exhausted. My mind is constantly reminding itself of the things I’m afraid of. Mostly of food, food I can’t eat. Remember, there’s a difference between “I can’t” and “I won’t”, thats what my dad always told me. Its not that I am refusing to try, it’s that I can’t. I literally can’t even think of trying something I haven’t had before. I still feel as if my eyes will roll back into my head, my body will start rocking back and forth as I hit the floor in convulsions panicking until I’ve killed myself. And yet I still don’t get help. Because I’m scared to be able to try these things… because I won’t.

I’m exhausted just thinking about what I’ll have to avoid tomorrow, I’m exhausted from being lonely in my head. No one understands what happens inside my head, myself included. And it’s lonely up there. I just want someone to understand, and not judge the turmoil that I live everyday.