On the 25th my dad volunteered at an arts and crafts fair. My mother and I went. I had a glorious headache all through. It didn’t help that there was a live country singer nearby either. It was very sunny and in the 80s as well. I couldn’t really concentrate at all.
I pretty much followed my mom as she looked at different exhibits and stalls. We saw my dad, talked a bit and then my mom and I went to another area. On the way my weaker ankle “collapsed” under me and I limped a bit.
We came upon a stall that had something similar to stained glass. Sun catchers that held dyed, pressed flowers hung there. They were very pretty. I was rather taken with them. I studied as my mom considered what she could afford. While that happened we talked to the creator/seller. It was nice.
My mom and I returned to where my dad was. I entered the booth he was in and rested my ankle as my mom went off to find a friend of hers. I still had a headache and ran out of water. Other than that, my dad and I just sat there. He sold tokens and I tried to make my physical self feel as decent as possible. My mom finally returned who knows how much later, buys some tea for me and lemonade for her, and we bid my dad farewell. Once we got home, I pretty much collapsed on my bed. I didn’t wake up again until two to take a shower and eat something, only to collapse again.
The following morning, my dad was home due to Memorial Day. My foot was a pain and I still had a bit of a headache, thus Advil was taken. I did what chores I could without putting too much weight on my foot. Soon enough I just collapsed again. My dad got me some lunch later on, I read some and such, but never really could bring myself to stay up that day. I woke again at nine, ate something, saw my parents go to bed and likely went to sleep once more. Come two or such, I took a shower and again collapsed. Tuesday I managed to get up around nine. My ankle was still tender, but didn’t seem as bad. Advil wasn’t necessary. I stayed awake until three, got in a nap and woke up at 5:30.
I learned my brother is thinking of leaving here for good. He went on a road trip with a semi-friend and went to our old hometown. He somehow wound up at a job interview and can have the job.
He’ll be paid less than he is here, but he’ll get holidays off and likely won’t be worked close to slavery. Also, unlike the rest of us, he did pretty okay there – at least socially.
This will affect my parents and I greatly since he pays rent here.
There were some troubles brewing however, in one of my brother’s friends. He is one of the few guys my brother has really kept in touch with. As of the past few years or so he’s been drinking like mad and is extremely suicidal. He relies on my brother a lot and will call him up when things get bad to have my brother talk him down. Apparently he’s gotten worse.
My mom says my brother was in tears when he called her Tuesday night.
Wednesday morning Tiger was jumped by my brother’s cat, Smokey. While he was already sporting a ripped up ear that bled a good amount, he didn’t look worse for wear physically. He seemed traumatized by now, however. Ever since my cat died, Smokey has been going after Tiger ruthlessly.
I thought Tiger was simply scared of no longer being in my room, I moved him to my parents’ bedroom since there was a litter box in there. At the end of the day I was concerned by his behavior and noted it to my parents.
Thursday we couldn’t help but believe he was sick in some way or another. Perhaps he has an infection, a fever, etc. We don’t know. The right side of his neck is tender or something of such since if you touch it just right he cries out. The past two days he was curled up either in my mom’s closet or in as shielded a corner he could find in the bedroom.
It was decided that my dad would take him in Friday morning when he took Cleo, my mother’s female Himalayan, to the vet clinic for a teeth cleaning.
Another thing that occurred Thursday was a call from my sister. She called my father to tell him she was fired from her waitress job. Not much is known other than some sort of dispute on whether she did something wrong and signing a paper/contract that had her admit to such. The problem was she didn’t think she did anything wrong. What did she do? I have no idea. My dad has no idea either.
Hearing all this my mother told me none of my siblings are responsible or adults. She thought my brother was getting there, but his new decision on moving makes her think otherwise. Her points are valid.
It was either she or dad that said ironically I’m the most stable in our immediate family. Financially, living, etcetera… I’m not certain. Pretty sad since I’m the one crunching on medication in the mornings and am unable to hold a job without having a breakdown.
Kyle seems to be doing less than superb. His life is getting crummy, and sadly, I’m no help. His life seems to be mainly going to college classes and being bored. When he occasionally pops up on messenger, I really can’t give him anything. I’d like to… but jeez, I have less of a life than him. Reading a recent entry of his makes me think of myself around 2005 a bit actually.
I’ve been rather unresponsive to him, I fear. I’ve been quite out of it this month due to all the stress and losses. I think it is sheer stubbornness that has gotten me back into doing some of my usual activities. Reading, writing, drawing, whatever… I just don’t the interest at the moment.
I’m still missing my cat too. None of the other cats are like him at all. He had an utterly unique personality and wonderful disposition. He always made me smile when I saw him. I loved hugging him. I’d act rather silly even, crying out silly phrases and being somewhat playful.
I miss the kitty drug. He was the only thing that caused such. The kitty drug is what I call this feeling he would send through my head when I rubbed my face against his fur. It was a strange feeling of contentment – cloud nine sort of thing – I suppose.
I’ve often thought of getting a kitten again, his same breed despite most sites say it is best to not get the same breed of the pet you are mourning. I looked up on many different breeds though and their traits, personalities, body types, etcetera just don’t fit with me.
I keep thinking of excuses to postpone getting a kitten. There’s the money, the setup of my room, my brother’s vindictive cat, settling on a name, the belief that I should still be mourning and not look to another cat, fear of replacing him or expecting the kitten to fill his shoes which isn’t fair at all to either parties…
Sigh…
Anyway, both Cleo and Tiger came back home Friday evening. Cleo is dandy and Tiger had a big dose of antibiotics and will be given pills in the morning for a while. They found no abscess, but he was obviously ill from something.
Saturday was simply normal. I didn’t sleep at all Friday night, so after grocery shopping I hit the bed. My mom had me wrap an ice pack around my ankle since it was sore again from walking on it for an hour. I was pretty much out of it the rest of the day. I ate lunch come evening since I had only eaten an apple that morning and eventually collapsed again due to the lack of sleep from the night before to wake up again around four in the morning Sunday.
In other news I’ll see the eye doctor this coming Tuesday. I’ll see Given probably around the 17th if my Mom’s calendar isn’t still screwed up. Wynne will come along near the end of the month. The the dentist will likely come up next month.