Oh, !@#$ THIS, Volume 3

Sometimes I wonder how I keep my shit together.  Seriously.

I visited my doctor/counselor a week ago, and talked to her about my job and the total lack of compassion and empathy I’ve been getting.  She’s pretty much the only person that even listens to me right now.  Like, REALLY listens…to where she can respond to what I say, and empathize with me.  Of course, I have to pay her for it, but I’ll take what comfort I can get where I can.   She told me that my lack of appetite, constant stomach pain, and nausea were pretty good indicators that I was on my way to developing an ulcer.

A fucking ULCER.  Jesus Christ.

I decided that I just couldn’t do it.  There was no way I was going to make it another couple months at the job.  Hell, I was having to take breaks so I could go to the bathroom and THROW UP.  So, I called the temp agency and quit.  Part of me feels like I was insane to do it, but the bigger part of me feels like it was the only sane choice.  My biggest indicator that I’d made the right choice was the overwhelming sense of relief I felt when I hung up.  I felt like I’d taken a big step to reclaiming some sanity in my life.

Sixteen hours later, SK had a stroke. 

 5 AM, she woke me up and she couldn’t form a single coherent word.  We bundled her up and rushed to the emergency room for what was to be the roughest weekend of my life.  I stayed with her the entire time, and I think I might have got as much as three consecutive hours of sleep between Saturday morning and Sunday evening.  

The stroke had just affected the speech portion of her brain; no paralysis or anything.  Her speech improved rapidly the whole weekend, and I did vocal exercises with her to expedite that.  Note: She sounds absolutely normal at this point.

I called all of her students and parents, as well as her family.  They released her 4:50pm Sunday evening with a prescription for four medicines.  All of our local pharmacies close at 5pm on Sundays.  So I drove her half an hour to Daytona so she could get her meds from the 24/7 pharmacy.   

I’ve nursed her through this, and kept her spirits up.  I’ve done 100% of the work around here, to include cleaning the house so her douchebag son could stay here for a few days.  Every single aspect of my life for the last week has been 100% about her, and now I'm not allowed to even resent it...because she had a STROKE.

I want to die.  I’m exhausted, my appetite’s still gone, and I feel totally used up.  But no one even asks how I am.  No one responds to what I say.  And now, I’ve noticed something else.  My anger is starting to get harder and harder to hold back.  Sunday, I got a call on my cell from a telemarketer.  I tried to disengage politely, but he wouldn’t stop trying to sell me so I snapped.  I ended up screaming into my phone at the guy.  I came close to threatening him.

I’m getting really fucking tired of this life.  I don’t understand why it needs to be this way.  I’m not a bad person.  But I’m getting close to having a fucking meltdown. 

I need emotional support.  I need someone to listen to what I say.  I am not asking for anything unreasonable.  So, to all those selfish people in my life who’ve latched onto me for emotional/mental/physical/tech support and drained me dry…and you know who you are…listen carefully.

Fuck off.  I hope you all die.