Anxiety On Wheels

Tag: life

  • Setting the record straight

    Kasey and I went over; it was time for us to collect our things out of the garage from the last time we stayed there. I don’t really know where to start or how to move forward, and I know I’m feeling very emotional right now. So, warning, dear reader—shield your children’s eyes.

    No one wants to get a call from their mother’s doctor saying she’ll be gone in a few weeks if she keeps doing the same things over and over. She’s been hospitalized nine times now, many of which were completely preventable. And not preventable like “don’t smoke or you’ll get cancer,” but deliberate, very unwise, specific things like not taking antibiotics when she has sepsis.

    Or not regulating sodium intake properly, an issue since September, which directly impacts memory and cognition. Or starving herself and consuming so much liquid that her kidneys now only function at about 17%, pushing her close to kidney failure.

    Mike is gone, in large part because of her. Yes, he had his own issues—back pain, depression—but she pushed him over the edge. Imagine your wife retiring and making travel plans, only for everything to turn upside down: getting screamed at, having things thrown at you, the police called, threats of divorce, and more for months on end. All while trying to ensure she takes her medication so she doesn’t die, cleaning her wound so it doesn’t get infected, or trying to get her into rehab because the doctors say she’s going to die if she keeps doing the same harmful things over and over again. Mike tried so hard to keep her alive, yet she made him out to be some kind of monster. I honestly understand why he felt so hopeless. I wish he had just packed up and gone to California like he said he would, anything other than suicide.

    You didn’t deserve any of this, Mike.

    And I’m sorry that our deeply flawed medical system didn’t allow you to properly care for her. Not your fault.

    Like I said the first time Kasey and I left, I’m not open to being called names, screamed at in front of everyone, or made out to be a terrible person because I don’t jeopardize my life, quit my job, and endure abuse. Especially when I’m expected to just go along with her belief that antibiotics are poison, that the government is spying on her through Bluetooth, and all the rest of it. I don’t care if it’s my mom, and I guess I don’t care if she’s dying—no one gets a free pass to openly abuse others, especially when they’re trying to help.

    And what’s the point, anyway, when any help one might give is literally helping her harm herself? Tonight’s disagreement started because I refused to hand her the pill bottles after she claimed “Jade messed up her meds” and went off on some unrelated rant about not having a POA. I refused to hand them over because I’m not going to assist her in taking just “Vitamin C” as ordered by “cancer doctor,” or indulge the idea that “sodium causes high blood pressure” in this context. It’s all nonsense.

    I’m stammering here because my next instinct is to defend myself—to say that I do care, I’m scared, and I don’t want my mom to die. I even woke up with night terrors, dreaming she was dead. But this situation has been so uniquely awful, so extreme, that frustration and anger drown out everything else.

    Kasey and I took our RV over there for a single night in August. We lasted one night. I work remotely, a 9-to-5, and my job was already unstable due to layoffs. I stayed up until 1 a.m. trying to convince her to take her antibiotic. It took hours of dealing with rambling nonsense. I finally got to bed around 2 or 3 a.m. Exhausted at work the next day, I got woken up at 8 a.m. and brought into the house, Kasey too, to be screamed at that we weren’t doing enough. Both Mom and Mike yelling, going on and on. We lasted one night.

    Kasey rightfully walked out, and I was right behind her. Kasey isn’t even part of this, and no one gets to scream at my partner, period. I lost that job soon after.

    But it just goes on and on. I don’t have the energy to detail every awful and abusive thing. Mom has this narrative that everyone treats her like a “child,” and she demonizes anyone who doesn’t want to help her destroy herself. Mike is gone because he wouldn’t just pretend everything was fine while she refused to help herself. My sister walked in from collecting her father’s ashes and was berated for not magically having Mom’s breakfast ready before work. It’s all just beyond understanding—awful, sad, and infuriating.

    And I’m done. I said my goodbyes, and this is what I’m forced to remember her as: a harmful, confused person who likely doesn’t even know what’s going on. Meanwhile, others circle around, willing to agree with her so they can get what they want, or a handout as they need the money.

    We’ve got probate, Mike’s estate, business matters, in-home aide options that I spent days researching. But I’m a liar, I’m useless, and she already wrote me off after I left the first time. Fine. Good luck, then. Thanks for calling the attorney to tell him not to talk to me, because I’m apparently such an awful person.

    Maybe I need to be the “bastard son,” because I’d much rather deal with that than live knowing I helped my mother end her own life.

  • Tired, but alive

    So, Mike is mom’s husband. Jade found him on the swing outside (his daughter). To say it’s been a fucked up weekend would be an understatement. Mom is still in the hospital due to her sepsis and physical therapy as she’s a fall risk.

    I’m heading over with the RV to support Jade and fam tomorrow. We had been planning on going full-time again and this time actually, for real traveling. Lease is up in January, might as well.

    Funeral is weekend after next, not sure if I’ll go. Not anything to do with Mike, I just have unsolved trauma around funerals from long ago.

    Yeah, I’ve been sad. Mike and I had a complicated relationship but he was good for mom. I’m not sure what else to say, I’ve never had anyone I personally know commit suicide before.

    I thought about it, and it’s why I went to inpatient. It was the hate driven kind though, like here’s the consequences of your actions and what you are doing to me, can you finally HEAR me now that I’m dead? No, but even though I’m 99% over all of that I still have a sneaking suspicion that other(s) may not be, and that’s fine. Not in like a spiteful kind of way, but kind of like, yeah – obviously this is what happens when you intentionally try to hurt someone.

    For whatever reason I’ve been thinking that day at the canal with Amanda and Luke lately, just little flashes of processing of the subconscious. I was a toy and it was funny to see me get jealous over the dog, it was intentional. I have no idea why I put up with even a quarter of the bullshit honestly, I’ve burned far too many bridges since for much less.

    But hey, I was in that transition from the lifelong trauma based state of just stuffing emotions under the rug since like, forever, and whatever happened to just have to start feeling my feelings, well – there’s no way of going back from that. Not that I was a unfeeling person before, more like, I’m much less scared to feel my feelings and be much more of myself.

    Honestly, I don’t regret the experience overall. I’m a much more feeling, vulnerable person now and I’ve become so much stronger within my queerness and have (even if sometimes heavy handed) boundaries so much more well figured out now that even those without them scream narcissist when I’m just kinda done and wish to go no contact.

    Happily a narcissist over being taken advantage of, the evolution of the people pleaser.

    One thing about handling high grade, nuclear grade trauma, like a suicide, is other issues just kinda melt away. Like I know we may be fucked due to the election and politics bullshit, but I kinda have bigger issues here right now. Not that it’s healthy in any way, but a fact so might as well roll with it.

    But yeah. We’ll move the RV tomorrow and use this breakpoint as a transition to start downsizing and getting the homestead ready to vacate. Is third time going to be the charm for actually hitting the road? Let’s fucking go.

  • Suddenly, December; it’s been awhile

    Life is good. It’s 6am, Mike’s surprise birthday party was last night. I’m sitting in the RV out back and it’s pitch black outside. Another week or so will mark one year since leaving Indianapolis and I can’t believe it’s “only” been a year, it feels so much longer.

    Lately the theme has been downsizing and getting finances in order, coming to terms that I can be an emotional spender and making better decisions post pandemic as I finally feel generally good in life again, stable, safe. Motorcycle? Sold. Bunch of other shit? Sold. The Ford truck was traded in two days ago, but hear me out, the APR was so bad on it, which I knew going into it. We needed to be able to pull the trailer somehow.

    No more worries there, went with a slightly used 41MPG Rav4 Hybrid with a better interest rate. Our 6 year Total Cost of Ownership massively dropped and 14MPG vs 41MPG with all of the driving I want to do in the tail end of what’s becoming what used to be my driving paralysis, and the exposure work needed to get there. Fill up from half tank? $15. 528 miles per tank. I tried the aimlessly drive the truck around on the daily, refilling the tank is a hundredaire affair.

    But how do we pull the RV? With the other RV, of course and the Jeep in a pinch. We hope to sell the travel trailer and Jeep by next spring to further drop our monthly expenses. It’s the meantime, it’s paying off a few credit cards, building up savings again, working in the tail end of my driving anxiety. That is, if the Jeep isn’t totaled out come Monday.

    Dead mice dying in air vents and their goo getting on the thing deep in the dash that gets hot… doesn’t smell well. The Jeep has been underivable for about two weeks now and I finally gave up trying to fix it, for now.

    See the black box lower center? That’s the blend door/heater core/airbox assembly. Also see the metal frame around it? It’s impossible to get to without removing the whole ass dash, depressurizing refrigerant, draining coolant, dropping steering shaft. I’ve dumped disinfectant down it, I’ve ran ozone (and ruined some of the interior, ozone did not work regardless of how many people told me to try it on Reddit). I found another nest in back. I’m done dealing with it, hope the insurance claim adjuster brings a mask Monday.

    If they don’t cover it… I’m going to get creative and try vinegar and some other things, the airbox has a drain at the bottom due to aircon condensate so dumping shit down the airbox.. anyway I’m not going to think about it right now. Worse case we’ll trade it in come spring, which we want to do anyway but I’m secretly hoping they total it due to biohazard. Good riddance. It’ll easily be a $6,000-$8,000 fix to do properly at dealership prices as you can’t get mouse goo out, you replace parts and start over.

    But anyway.

    No, we seriously sat down and talked about moving south and what we would need to do to get there. The simple facts of the matter is, I still have a bit more driving and exposure to do (the biggest thing) and I simply own too much shit and need to downsize (my call). We don’t need an electric bike, motorcycle, cars, RVs, a storage unit full of electronic parts and other shit, we need paid down credit cards, a fuel efficient car, money in savings again. I’ve needed to give myself an allowance for the longest time and get my spending under control which I don’t think I’ve done since living in Lafayette.

    Feels weird talking about it, but admitting shit is the first step I suppose. I’ve just never really talked about money and thought of life as transient, so who cares? But it matters and no amount of random shit, or otherwise, fills that void we all have within.

    Speaking of the void and general anxiety levels, I’m up at 6pm as I went to bed earlier, and have been for a while. The colder days and getting dark around 5-6pm does tend to do that. I’m finding my general anxiety levels are lower than they have been for a very long time. I still get bouts here and there, of course, like when I eat a bunch of things that don’t go together and I get a tummy ache or if I choose to go get breakfast early in the morning and I’m still groggy and a bit disoriented.

    Even the Amanda dreams that my brain like to queue up from time to time are softer, it’s actually what led to writing this morning instead of just going back to sleep, which I will here soon. Yeah, the tail end of the bulk of healing, a reconciliation in my mind. It’s that threshold where memories fade a bit and the trauma and bad juju wanes off and a bit of nostalgia takes hold. It’s those last bits of healing in the subconscious. The dreams are basically just sitting and talking to understand each other, with a slight bit of want, and a slight bit of sadness, but overall positive.

    Things happened and went off the rails so quickly that things just fell apart overnight and regardless of comparably how short the relationship was, or even knowing her, it’s what made healing and closure so difficult, as there was no closure and we were both quite uniquely cruel to each other, inflicted that trauma really deep in each other.

    It’s crazy to think how much that impacted my life by the end of it, not only how deep it cut, for whatever reason, but how much I’ve learned about myself and the other things I’ve worked on in my life since then that I may have otherwise wouldn’t. I don’t know, it’s weird.

    I don’t talk much about Kasey on my blog and I think it’s due to knowing, inherently, that she’s a private person, and also, I have to work hard to blog about positive, good things. Not because I don’t want to share them, but more, my blog is the place I go to process, to think, when it spills out and when things are good I don’t feel the need to write about it, I feel the need to experience them.

    But still, I enjoy writing and I like that I’ve been in a better place. The lack of content on my blog and what content is here evidences that pretty well I think. I usually write more when traveling, also, gives my mind something to do.

    Kasey and I are good. There’s been some recent upheaval due to a death in her family and some awkwardness with how to approach someone she has strong boundaries with as the person who died was married to said person. There’s also some awkwardness due to another family member being passive aggressive about things. As for I, we lost our oldest surviving relative the other day, my Great Aunt.

    December has also been weird in general, it’s been in the 40s, 50s and the weather and wild clouds were strange yesterday. I guess snow just isn’t a thing Indiana does anymore and it kinda sucks. I can’t remember the last time we had a good snowy winter and things were white for more than a weekend or so.

    We also have some friends locally that live just on the edge of my driving comfort zone, it’s nice! I’ve been to their house and look forward to going over more often. Then it’s just another 10 min to Kokomo, then wherever else. Openpilot/self driving arrives, again, Monday. it’ll get me out driving and will be fun to fuck around with.

    But anyway. It’s time to head back to bed.