Cowardice perhaps?

Sometimes I question if I have become a coward lately. I do not consider it a terribly bad thing, because I recall back how I was when I tried so hard to be strong and independent. No longer living in insane conditions and circumstances, I have rather regained a sense of sanity… that is if I ever possessed it before now… *Speculative*
Nevertheless, in this blanket of security, I occasionally come to conclude I have stopped in a sense. As those I once knew as my “peers” have grown and flourished in their own ways, I am rather the same as I was upon finding solace. In this though, I question if I have grown at all.
To some degree I am content with this because life before was like a an endless rotation of a music box melody… and the song was dismal like a dirge for my own funeral. I then question though… is it so good a thing to stay in my quiet, peaceful cocoon?
Based on previous attempts to venture out in the world, the results have often been dismal. Often they have led me into a darkness that is darker than black rather than a soothing one with the occasional shades of gray. Simply put, it often just seems to justify that I just don’t quite make sense upon this earth. A certain misplacement, I suppose.
There are those who have encouraged me to get out there, make friends… there have been encouragements that if I try, I will make more connections and find friends. Perhaps I just have too high of expectations…
In my efforts, I usually just find myself a third wheel. Though I am with others who are willing to share company with me, there is still an unseen wall. There is still a bubble about them I cannot seem to pass. On the outside looking in? On the inside looking out? I have yet to determine which way it is still.
A blockage in my mind, I lack the ability to grasp things that bring about communication. Social networking is closer to something I can deal with, but that isn’t what I am looking for. As said, there is a high expectation for me.
Emotional and mental connections is what elates me. A trust that allows me to feel comfortable and open… it is so hard to find when just entering through the social barriers is so difficult. Such a thing often takes an amount of time and cultivation in my case.
Speaking of common interests, following trends, showing wit… those rarely interest me. In fact, I often have little to talk about when it comes to the social scene. Books, movies, shows, politics, news, technology… How does one start when one doesn’t have anything to say about it or has very little interest in the world to begin with?
I suppose I could force myself to try to take interest in such things, but what is the point in that when it has nothing to do with my true interests? I saw plenty of change about me during adolescence. Preteens taking on the latest trends to be accepted into groups. Perhaps they liked said trends… others they simply made themselves like them until it became natural and thus eventually liked.
I could never really feign interest in things that never grasped me attentions on its own, however. Pretending to like something just to gain a way to enter a possible “relationship” never appealed to me. I make for a poor actor and don’t really care to be one.
Ah… so troublesome.
There are those who see potential in me… believe I can do things…
But all the times I gather the courage, or at times in the past was just frustrated with their pestering, it led to me feeling greater isolation than ever. Thinking of that feeling… it actually causes my eyes to prickle right now. Wretched, dismal and so alone…
That is what I feel whenever I try to make friends it seems.

Princess Gabriella

Ever since Tiger died, Mom has slowly gotten the kitty crazies. Following a Humane Society shelter website, she was taken by two lynx point Siamese kittens.
Yesterday, we stopped by the shelter to check out the kittens. So focused on getting a Siamese, she mainly paid attention to them. In the cage next door I saw this cute little gray kitten. She won me over in an instant.
Finding neither of the lynx points were really warming up to her, she looked into the other cage since they were of Burmese mix. She liked the one with chocolate markings, but upon learning he was very shy, she decided to look at the one I had my eye on.
My instincts are spot on as usual. Mom fell for her and the little kitten fell for us in return. Reading up on the breed more, Mom has come to conclude she is perfect.
Named Gabriella by my mom, she is three pounds and about three months old. She is very lively, adventurous, but melts when you pick her up and pet her. Her personality is a definite queen.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust…

Tiger, our eldest cat passed away today. He had been a staple to this family like no other pet has. We found him around the summer of 1995. He was about the age of a “teenager”. We adopted him and after getting him registered and fixed found out he belonged to some people in our neighborhood. Said people apparently didn’t care too much, because they already replaced him and said we could just keep Tiger. It was their loss.
Tiger made it to eighteen years once this spring passed. That is a record as far as I am aware. The longest living cat my mom had, which was before she even had me, lived to be at best seventeen. It was his time though, unlike the former who I think died from an unfortunate accident.
Tiger had been depleting in weight over the past year. In his prime her weighed up to twenty pounds. Today he was nine pounds. Over the year he slowly ate less and less to the point we enticed him with chicken and kitty treats. The past few weeks he has been turning his nose to those as well.
Last night was one of the major signs though. While my room was vacant, he took advantage of its silence, dim lighting and solitude. I checked on him to make sure he was breathing. Yes, we had been doing that for quite a while even w en he was in a bright room with plenty of activity. I later returned and tried to lightly brush his thinning coat out, but he found that uncomfortable and his breathing was heavier than I remembered. I left him be.
Today, Mom reported he wouldn’t eat. Sure, he drank water and licked some gravy from his food dish… but he wouldn’t eat. When I saw him in the kitchen later on he was just sprawled out on the floor, but I continued to notice his labored breaths. Finally around four my mom came home and we were taking him to the vets. In our pursuit to find him, he was hiding in a dark place.
There had been talk about his continuous weight gain before and we had checked his thyroid and blood levels… all of those were clean. A previous appointment did bring up a note of a strange enlargement of his kidney though. They told us at that time the possibility of cancer.
Well, we never found out if there ever was any cancer. According to the vet, with how he was struggling to breathe… at best he’d have a week. We could run tests, try to keep him around to the very last moment… but… Mom and I aren’t like that.
We agreed it was best to put him down. He was skeletal, deaf, becoming blinder as he became older and now couldn’t breathe well. Any cat lover who is well read knows cats do not show pain much. For all we knew, Tiger could have been suffering right before our eyes for a long time, but couldn’t tell. Well, we could tell enough.
We made the arrangements, signed the form and stayed by his side as they injected the meds into him. He fell asleep in seconds. Mom was sobbing. I was just… numb. It is surreal. When Peabody died, I of course felt it. This time, it was my mother sobbing. I don’t think she’ll be in her bed for weeks crying like I was, but it is still a hard hit.
Tiger was our Gandhi cat. Loving, gentle and laid back, he was a big baby that wanted to be loved and cuddled. Sadly, he didn’t always get that all the time – especially not from the other cats when we moved – but for the most part… I think he had a good life. Perhaps it could have been better… by means of more cuddle sessions, more petting and more rubbing. Nevertheless, I cannot recall him ever receiving an unkind hand or word from anyone human in the family – just the territorial youngin’ cats.
Ah… all Mom and I can hope is that he is doing well wherever he has wandered to. Mom believes strongly in the Rainbow Bridge, so I can only hope he’s made it there and that Peabody isn’t being too prissy and territorial towards him. Peabody was such an alpha, if he recognizes Tiger, he’d still be shrilling his high pitched yowl crying out, “This is MY territory, I don’t care if I lived with you in the past!”
Good luck, Tiger. I hope you are well wherever you are.

Giving Up…

I give up. That is what I’ve often muttered in my head since last evening in any case. As one can guess from the emails posted, my sister and I “got into it”.

She arrived Christmas Eve late evening. Mom and Dad picked her up from the airport and brought her home. It had been fine. Christmas had been fine. She and Jeremy got along. There was good conversation at the dinner table and laughing. It had been nice. The calm before the storm, I suppose.

I went to bed early that night. The past few months obviously have taken there toll.

I woke late on the twenty-sixth. Hilary was on a cleaning rampage. She “couldn’t stand the clutter” and so rummaged through the medicine cabinet and my mother’s things to clean it all up. I knew it was pointless to try to stop her, but I knew it certainly wouldn’t make Mom happy. I emailed her a warning. Apparently Hilary had already informed her by leaving a message on her phone. All through her cleaning, she complained about Mom pretty much. I kept correspondence with Mom through email. Mom was not pleased, but likely wasn’t surprised by Hilary’s tendencies either.

I am best suited to calm, quiet settings and being alone most of the day. The routine of this home is ideal. Hilary was causing chaos, had music blasting from my dad’s computer and was complaining like mad. It frayed my nerves and I even tried escaping to the garage to break down cardboard boxes just to regain some sanity and peace.

Somewhere in one of my emails I wrote, “Help me. Save me.”

I went to bed early that night as well because my energy was drained by Hilary’s energies and I was still recovering from the past three months.

I admittedly don’t remember the twenty-seventh much at all.

Yesterday had been good. I woke up and thought Hilary was simply sleeping. The house was quiet and peaceful. I tended to the dishes in the sink, ate some Mandarin oranges and was relieved. Turns out she was gone to do something and accompanied Mom to get Christmas supplies on sale.

For a while Mom and Hilary was settled down in the Cat Room and were talking. Hilary’s voice carries so I knew what was going on. I eventually wandered in and tried to put my two cents in but Hilary dismissed me and told me I didn’t understand. This annoyed me as it usually does.

By dinner time we were to go out to eat, just the three of us since Dad had to work late as did my brother. I was questioning about going since I was still feeling annoyed by my sister, but went anyway. That was a mistake.

Hilary ragged on me again when I brought something up due to something my mom said. Finally beyond pissed with her I told her I wished she’d stop being such a bitch. Now, usually I keep those thoughts to myself. Well, I was tired, had missed taking my meds for almost two days due to the chaos and everything being off schedule and dealt with her offhanded verbal abuse. So yeah. It was inevitable.

We got into something akin to an argument, which was mainly her bitching at me and me not even bothering trying to explain since she’d never let me get a word in anyway. Even if I did she’d never consider my words and I’d likely get choked up from crying anyway.

It “ended” there. Hilary and I ignored each other and mainly interacted with Mom. I was apologetic that Mom had to deal with the fiasco, but also stewed less than favorable thoughts about my sister though I am not proud of it. Yes… it wasn’t the end.
We arrived home and I greeted my dad before heading to my room. Typing up my apology/rant email to my mom, soon enough drama occurs after I send it. Hilary planned to go to San Antonio that night. She called up my brother and asked him to take her. He apparently agreed to.

This upset Dad and he asked her why she was doing this… This led to a tirade. Hilary called me “Her” and bad mouthed all of us. She hates how Mom and Dad “baby” me and always takes my side. She added Travis into the mix saying they always considered me right and them wrong. She went on how it was just like the past in our old home and so forth. She obviously looks down on me for how I live and my situation. Pretty much, I learned she still resents me to this day.

So… I give up. I give up on her. I give up trying to be her sibling. I give up on the idea that she’ll ever like me. I give up on thinking she’ll mature and come to be more sympathetic.

I don’t hate her. I just don’t know if I can kid myself into believing we’ll ever be a family. She is but a sister in name… no more, no less.


Skipping Over Christmas…

Letters to my Mom while Sister was home:

Yeah… Fuck you too Hilary. Fuck you, too.

And today had been surprisingly nice until Hilary told me I didn’t know anything… why I even try…
You think I knew jack shit about what she was talking about? I thought I understood well enough. -__-

I apologize to you about the cursing slip at dinner tonight. Admittedly, I had wondered about going at all after the first “run in” with Hilary while in the cat room. I’ve been tired, the day and a half of missing medications and the fact that Hilary and I have never truly made sense near one another…

Yes. I’m sorry for the tense moment there… I’m not sorry for thinking that about her though.

Again, while Hilary says I don’t know, I don’t understand, etc… Well, at the same time she doesn’t know, she doesn’t understand. The difference is, she won’t even consider or bother to try to if she ever did consider.

Yes, I use the term “rich”. As I’ve tried to explain before though, my “rich” is different from her “rich”. I know you know that. She just never listens. Sigh. Even when I use the word “we” I really refer to you and Dad. I’m fine with how I am really. Spend so much on groceries, so much on mortgage, do chores, have the internet… Money left over in case you or Dad need some help and when you don’t, spend a little on something “collectible”.

When I speak of “rich” though… I mainly say it out of wishes for you and Dad. The we only comes into play due to the fact I live in this house with you and if there is a we, then if I somehow miraculously got enough money, I’d make all your financial troubles disappear. Because it is nice to dream. It is nice to think of of it. I wasn’t complaining and I only used “poor” because it was used by others.

Admittedly, I know I am fortunate not to know what being absolutely wretchedly poor is like. Hilary was right about that one, but I know what it is like to count pennies, scrounge for coupons and buy the cheapest items and food possible. I know what it is like suddenly having near nothing in my bank account by the end of the month because some annoying crisis has occurred. I know what it is like to only have the clothes on my back and a couch as my bed.

I know what it is like to see my parents struggle with money because their kids are idiots and most of the time don’t even show gratitude. I know what it is like to have to bail out my siblings because Dad has done something “honorable” for them financially. I know what it is like seeing my parents break down because their idiot son stole a great deal of their precious mementos to pawn. Hilary, you weren’t here during that shit!


I hate to say it… but I am starting to think I don’t really love her and only tell myself I do. I think I try to. I think I might say “I love her, but…” when it is really only being said to convince myself I do.

I had many bad thoughts at dinner this evening. Bad karma indeed.

In order to survive the rest of this “holiday”… I might just stay in my room until she is gone. ‘Cause… like many other things I have come to terms with this year… I think I really just can’t be around her much. She has never been good for me and likely never will… How can I keep telling myself I love her because she’s my sister… when I want her gone? When I want her to just… Sigh.

I send one thing and now… Hilary and San Antonio. I see she still resents me like mad.


I give up on her. I just…. give up.

Brief Reprieve…

Been a while. I was going to update on the end of October, but the internet was barely functioning then. In November it was out for about two weeks. My mom had it, my dad kind of had it… I had zilch.

Before all of that, on October 25 and 26, Mom and I cleaned out the storage unit as well. That was exhausting, but fun despite I cursed like a pirate that day. We found Grandma’s silverware, which has been lost to us for about seven years and brought back a lot of stuff I thought should have gone to good will.

The house was a mess for days and was only cleaned up when Thanksgiving came around the corner. Thanksgiving rolled up as well as cleaning out Grandma’s old house on the 29th. Why? My eldest brother and his wife will be moving out soon. They were going to move out on the 3rd, but that was postponed due to difficulties in the moving service and the house needing fixing.

Anyway, on the 29th, we moved out furniture, dishes and so forth. Some of the stuff would go to good will or storage and others into our house. The house was a mess for days. The garage is still being used as a storage unit. Still that weekend we managed to move in some of the furniture, rearrange an entire room and so forth.

December was a brief reprieve in the beginning despite there was gift wrapping (I’m the gift wrapper here.) Then on the seventh my mom has a week of vacation. This entailed chores, errands and doctor visits. Sadly for Mom, I was hitting my exhaustion point, Tom came around had an annoying health issue rear its ugly head. So I was out cold half the time. I also apparently cannot eat corn products like I used to. Wah.

My birthday has come and passed. It was the usual. I woke up, got a gift from Mom, received an e-card from Dad, got ready to go shopping. The trip is mainly for my Mom to get Christmas gifts for her co-workers. For me it is to eat lunch there. Window shopping isn’t so bad, I just rarely find anything of interest. I never bring money anyway. I need not spend any more this time of year if there should be something that miraculously catches my eye.

We hit the usual store my mom frequents and oddly enough there was a store that had minerals and crystals on display. I knew I wasn’t going to get anything, but it sparked my interest. Sadly, I did see something I wanted (but saw no practical use for.) It was a huge turquoise nugget that filled the palm of my hand.

The price was hefty and though it was my birthday I’d never ask for such a thing. Mom wanted to buy it for me, but I refused due to the price. In the end I suggested splitting the cost. We did and I went home with a lovely stone. It is my birthstone and I collect crystals. So, yeah… it was pretty awesome despite being what I considered profuse in cost and wasteful all around on a logical level.

My birthday meal was at the usual German restaurant and I had the soup again. It was awesome as usual.

There was a nice surprise as well. Brooke emailed me that morning. She wished me happy birthday and we caught up some. She disappeared a while after the second day and I was becoming disappointed again. It happens all the time someone pops up out of the blue. They talk a day or two and then disappear from the internet for years to come if not indefinitely. To my relief, she emailed me today.

The rest of the week was Mom being off work and soon things have gone back to relative normalcy for a while… Well, minus the fact that the vacuum is missing. My brother borrowed it this weekend, but has yet to return it. The carpeted floors are very sad. I am getting bothered by them. I hope he returns it soon.

Other than that, there isn’t much else to note. Christmas is coming up and the brief reprieve will end. Why? My sister will be flying down for the holidays. She might arrive on the 23rd or the 24th. Sure, we love her… but the house sure gets hectic and unnerving feeling when she is around. Pretty much extrovert in a house full of introverts. Scary times.

Sigh… well… that is that!

Crash and Burn…

Though time is just a concept, I seem to have less of it the past month or so. I seem to get so little done these days. That is a shame since just as this began I had a lot of things I wanted to get done. Instead, they’ve hit the shelf just as quickly. Normally I’d pull one of those huge mania-fueled project binges that eventually result in crashing and hitting the bed for a while later…
Well, this time, despite holding back on the mania and pacing myself, I got about 1% of anything done outside my chores. That includes not even finding time for my simplest of pastimes like checking my usual websites on the internet. Pretty much this month or so has been mainly “’work’ and sleep”. There has been the walking/yoga and television watching per usual, but sometimes those things are like work as well.
The real kicker is that since this past Thursday to now, I’ve been feeling like crap. It isn’t allergies, a cold or whatever… I just never feel rested after sleeping. Even if I have slept all day, I don’t feel rested. I’ve been eating regularly, have that protein shake with a B vitamin in the morning, exercise lightly and sleeping decent hours with no waking up in between. My mind is just fine, it hasn’t endured that annoying headache feeling from too much sleep. I just feel like I haven’t rested at all.
Son of a gun.

Depend Upon…

Around noon time I was drifting off for a nap when my mind wandered to things that happened when I was little. I don’t remember the name exactly, but I couldn’t help but think of a movie… “The Butterfly Effect”? In any case, the times the main character would look at old family videos or pictures, he was able to go back to that moment and change it. I mused on how I would have handled things differently. I do that on occasion, but soon trash it. I trash it because while there are many things about my past I wish would have gone differently, I am mostly content with my present.

Anyway… the day continued on and the thoughts before were lost on a conscious level. They reappeared around ten tonight. I was taking a shower and my mind drifted like it often does. I recalled some more “childhood memories” and it was then the realization hit me: by the time I was of preadolescence, my way of survival was “no one is dependable.” I never consciously thought or realized that before until this night, but with all the times I did try to seek help, all the times I held out a hand… it was always denied.

I never knew my sister as someone I could depend on. I came to believe I couldn’t depend on my parents somewhere in the middle of elementary school. Around the same time I found I could depend on neither of my brothers. In between that I learned there are teachers who either assume, don’t listen or take advantage of the fact that you are little and they are authority figures. It was perhaps the time I was transitioning to middle school, or my first year there did I learn my friends weren’t dependable either.

Thus… when my mental problems began to take a dark turn around the time I was in sixth grade… it never occurred to me to reach out. It never came to mind to rely on my parents or friends. By then I was quite conditioned to “handle it myself”.

Times before when looking back… when asked “why didn’t [I] speak up or tell [anyone]” I figured, “I thought [you were] aware and just didn’t care.” Now though… I don’t think that was the case.

While, yes… I thought “[they] just didn’t care”… I feel rather certain now that it was, “I thought if I told you, you still wouldn’t care or would not do a thing anyway.”

“Compassionate”? Huh…

Yeah… a while ago, maybe a week… my mom noted to me that I was compassionate. Now, out of all the words I’ve ever used to describe myself, that one never came to mind. Whether it is true, I am uncertain. I guess it could be, though… I mean, just a while ago I had a considerable ethics debate about killing a roach.
I killed it… I was going to take a shower and by mere reflex/instinct/habit i killed it… but all through the shower and after I wondered if it was the right thing to do. I took a life… Sure it was the life of a bug that carries disease and trespassed into the house I live in… yeah, though. I’m basically that sort of person: I feel guilty killing roaches.
Hm… if I remember, I’ll have to ask why my mom thinks I’m compassionate…

Mom Oddity…

While I have often found Mom has left the milk carton on the counter after I’ve woken up three to four hours after her departure from the house, today I found it at noon when getting myself a cup from the cabinet… because it was in the cabinet with the cups!
While my first inclination is, she was likely in such a hurry she pulled another insane stunt… there is always that lingering question considering just how much older all of us are. I’m pretty sure it is the former though.