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Three Years Later

Spring 2016 mom passed away.

She did not die in bed, with her family all around her. She had been sitting up by herself in the kitchen all night, and walked herself around to the bathroom, sat down in her chair, and died there in the chair. Dad found her, I did what I do...I checked her vitals, and pronouced her dead. We called hospice and things took off from there.

Things here have flown like a stiff breeze.


So happy after all these years that LIVE JOURNAL still has my goofy posts still there, as if nothing had happened.

Catching Up

The past 3 years have been a nightmare; how much of it was my fault and how much that of others, I cant say. Its not good to try and assign blame to anyone in such delicate, constantly changing situations such as our family has been facing. In a fog of depression and chronic pain, I tried to forget myself to the point that I might not exist, because existence has been so horrible. When I woke up and looked around, I became aware of so many problems and issues that I swung back the other way, thinking I had the power to effect beneficial change. But I had tried so hard to become a ghost that I nearly succeeded. Nobody was listening to anything I had to say. Six months of battling, working, pleading with my parents to at LEAST formulate a plan of action as I watched their health failing....I was alone, and I was frightened out of my wits, and I was limited by my own health problems. I couldnt even bail out....I was broke, sick, essentially helpless.

I finally broke under the strain that they were demanding and that I was expecting of myself. I became overwhelmed, I went into a state of constant panic, until one Tuesday all i could feel was paralyzing terror with absolutely no way out. I shifted upward once again, escalating fear found me pacing the house, literally wringing my hands, unable to stop crying, unable to sleep, unable to find any good solution.

That was when I began to dissociate, to feel myself and my actions were two separate things. My vision became very acute, the environment took on a brittle, crystalline sheen, and suddenly getting in the truck and running myself off an overpass sounded like a really fine idea. I even got in and took a trial run, determining how much speed would be required to bash through a metal guardrail reinforced with thick wooden posts.

Then I knew. I was in danger. The rest of myself came for a visit and notified me that i was in trouble, and dad woke up and took me to a behavioral health hospital where I stayed for 9 days, the first five of which are still a fog.

As I have reached out to people who still cared a bit about me, and listened to them, I am grateful that I have learned my own limitations. I know that being a nurse in an institutional setting never prepares anyone when the people they love are demanding so much 24-7, and are totally non-compliant.

Ive been home for about a month, and the same issues are still here, the same dysfunction, the same blind people. I get the shakes at times, I cry, I call my sister. I've taken some steps toward setting limits, I dont offer myself up for sacrifice, I piss them off greatly. I still have the sensation of walking face-first into driving rain: the only thing to do is to squint hard and keep on diggin'. My heart is bleeding and raw as if it has been sandblasted. In fact, my deities and also the Buddhist "Heart Sutra" have helped me preserve a little of my sanity.

A few very special things have always been in my mind, however. One of them was to never let Pathfyndere go. What is in storage here on LJ is extremely important, not just to me but potentially others. There were some beautiful things happening there. As I recuperate, I intend to devote some time into saving it, Both electronically and on hard copy. That, and the few souls who really know me and care about me, I hope will help me through.


Been through hell but i may yet live.

I Let Myself and my People Down......

This has been a horrible day.

when we moved in here in 2004, my parents had just been on a rescue mission to save my aunt. Malnourished, depressed over her partner's death from breast cancer, poor, just a wreck, she came here about the same time we did.

Mary's mental status has never been 100%. She's got more than one screw loose. Just like my own mother, Mary does not know what to do with her anger and frequently attacks when she does not know what else to do. I have to give myself and Kendrick credit; we have been MORE than patient, MORE than compassionate, and between both Kendrick and I, we have forgiven Mary on several occasions.

Mary has a way of waiting till nobody else is around and then verbally attacking Kendrick. Or, she will make a snide, rude remark to Kendrick when nobody is listening. She sits upstairs with mom and dad and talks shit about Kendrick and I to them. She doesnt know that mom tells me about all this later.

EVERY time she has shown her ass in the past, I have held my tongue and kept my terrible temper in check, for the sake of the household peace. Until tonight. For weeks I havent been feeling well at all; I think my injuries are just taking so long to heal....its been an upward battle and I have had to really work on just saying "no" to people in order to protect my back.

Tonight, everyone saw what happens when SJ snaps. It doesnt happen often, but when it does....Lord help YOU if you are on the business side of my anger.

Mary launched into one of her foul-mouthed attacks at me tonight over something very trivial. Before I knew it, I had grabbed a roll of paper towels and flung it across the kitchen at her head. She jumped up and rushed me, and the fight was ON. I havent been physically violent in a hundred years! But I bloodied her lip with a left hook, grabbed both her arms and proceeded to punch her upside her head! It was like something came over me and I became a different person. What amazes me is that she kept ON trying to hit me....it was NUTS. I didnt want to really hurt her; I just wanted her to stop trying to hit ME. I won't lie, though. It felt good to knock her upside her head. I had put up with enough.

But the really crazy thing was, Kendrick came and stood beside me eventually, all 5' 10" of her, and proceeded to tell Mary, "Don't you put your hands on MY MOM!" Mary had the audacity to grab a handfull of Kendrick's shirt.

In a flash, KLH had thrown a punch that caught Mary in the temple, KLH moved in, and in a millisecond she had Mary on the floor! Flat on her ass on the floor with my Lion cub on TOP of her with her knee firmly planted on Mary's chest, holding her arms down and roaring at her.

At that point, I thought for sure Mary had had enough. I had blood (not my own), on my hands, so I went to the sink to wash it off. Mary had blood on her face and on her shirt, and she regained her feet after Kendrick had gotten off her and stepped back.

Mary continued yelling at Kendrick, Kendrick was yelling back, I was drying my hands and standing there, listening. Then, I heard Mary call KLH "dumb ass."

Mary was standing a couple feet away from me, by the kitchen island. I said, "Did you just call MY BABY a DUMB ASS???!!!" I remember Mary feeling like a feather when I shoved her. She went flying across the few feet there was between her and the kitchen table, landed on the table, and she and the table slid heavily into the wall behind them. Thank goodness for that table; if it hadnt been there, Mary would have headed directly into the large window that looks out over the balcony.

Yes, I feel terrible. I probably should have not thrown that roll of paper towels at her.