(no subject)
What's scarier than losing your breaks in city traffic?
...
Not much!
Thankfully, this is not my husband posting that I'm either a.) hospitalized and in a coma, or b.) dead, which is what I WOULD have been if I'd gotten only a mile more into my trek home when my breaks started failing, going 55-60 on Rte. 5. After dropping Pan off back at work, the brakes we THOUGHT were fixed, which had been grinding and sounding awful, showed their fail when I went to stop at a light and I felt no pressure and the pedal had to go all the way down to slow to a stop. (As a disclaimer, I don't think our mechanic screwed us; he's been my main-man since I got my license, rec'ced by my mom who'd seen him for decades. We'll see what comes of it, as he has the car now). This led to panic, especially when there was no place to stop in the city and I realized that I had to go over the bridge and choose which rotary exit to take that wouldn't lead to my demise.
I chose NOT to take the highway (duh) and went down the main road with my hazards on, letting people behind me know that there was a GOOD REASON for my crawling at 20 mph to a gas station. And thank goodness again that both sets of parents are around, my mom coming down with her AAA memberships, Pan's dad getting Gavs from school. But needless to say, I'm still shaken. So fuckin' scary.
But as I think I'm gonna do every time something bad happens, I shall post one of my fave Minchin vids that made me laugh just thinking about while walking home from the store after Mom dropped me off. I rec this to ANY-one who's had a shit, crap, lousy day...
"Some People Have it Worse Than I"
While waiting for the tow truck with my mom, I made sure she knew that this new ridiculousness wasn't our fault as we'd tried fixing it less than a month ago. She sometimes gets antsy and pissy when we hit hard times like this when it's due to negligence, as she's always been astute and on-top of things when it comes to fixing cars before tragedy--etc., etc. But luckily, she understood and felt bad about our situation.
ONE reason for her not being ticked off was the fact that my stepbrother T. (not my older one who had the divorce) is hitting rock-fucking-bottom. By that I mean he's been trying to get on any social program/welfare/unemployment for ages, even if besides psych issues he does not qualify; not helping himself through psych evaluations and seeking medical help adds fuel to the fire. I love him and feel for him, KNOW he's clinically depressed, but he won't help himself, so with the lack of self-esteem/funds/medical attention to his rotting teeth (I don't know how he isn't dead from severe infection when it comes to this), he hasn't paid his rent for three months and his landlord's taking him to court to start eviction proceedings.
*long, tired sigh* So Dad went by last night to get him a few things, but even with my parents being good with money--not OMG SUPER-AWESOME-RICH--he himself has been on disability as he took a REALLY bad fall a month of so ago. In fact, I think he's had trouble getting help with that, even though he's been an extremely hard-working, dedicated guy in every job he's had. At any rate, here's yet *another* blow to him, as both of his sons are basketcases and ALWAYS, ALWAYS in trouble.
I think the thing that pisses me off is how my brothers have always treated our family situation. Here's the breakdown:
1.) My mom marries my bio-dad in 1969, has me in 1976.
2.) Around 1980, Mom has had it with my father's cheating, drugging ways and kicks him to the curb. Father pays no support, we go on welfare.
3.) '81-'82, Mom meets my now-stepdad (who I just outright CALL 'Dad', which confuses everyone). He has two sons from his first wife himself, the woman who bailed on them while he was in the military in feckin' Germany.
4.) '83, they marry, move in to our already-established house which my mom broke her back to keep, instead of camping out at their Nana's, a royal PITA.
Every kid who deals with divorce has issues, of course, myself included. I had my 'angst years' when I was 12-13, but got help and counseling when it started getting bad. Young-brother T. was always a sweetheart, while older brother J. was (IS) one of the most impossible people on the planet. But as sweet as T. is, he adopted the same "woe is me, my mom left me" attitude J. had.
Around 12 years ago after my brother bailed on his Marines service ten minutes into it, he came to my friend's Pagan shop to hang out with me and vent. I was willing to listen--until he said "we came from a broken home". My head whipped away from the MahJong game I was playing to him and said, "O RLY??"
I proceeded to define 'broken home' to him, using the array of examples from the daycare I worked at. Moms living in abused-women shelters hiding from abusive boyfriends, parents needing 9 hour care days for their kids for work and they STILL can't keep up with life, etc., etc., fuckin' etc. "We were the fucking Brady Bunch, T.," I'd said. I managed to make him see how stupid and insulting it was, as he told me years later how right I'd been.
But no matter what, both stepbrothers do nothing but blamed their fucked-uppedness on "MY MOMMY LEFT ME". Their "Mommy" did nothing but screw their father. She jumps from one religion to the next--we're talking Judiasm, Paganism, Christianity, Buddhism, and Native American practices in a matter of 20 years. She married another VERY wonderful man in the 80's, dumped HIM, went soul-searching then realized she was a lesbian. And FINE, but why screw a couple googolplexes worth of people to "find yourself"? She's never around for them, but they won't stop trying to suck her teat well into their adulthood. They all but worship her, pine after her, and I'm sick of it.
And if I may reiterate, my own father left me and Mom in the lurch in a HUGE way. I have a relationship with him, but I don't need him. My stepfather served as a fantastic dad--one I consider my REAL "father", and it pisses me off that here he and his sons were, moving into a nice big home, my mom making us dinner every single night for over 15 years, going to all of our school functions--standing up to J.'s many bullies--and all they do is complain about her. Can she be a real pain? Oh, you bet. But she loved and cared for us, and they DON'T care. We came from a broken home. Life sucked. Right?
When J. gambled his marriage into divorce, when he had drug and drinking problems, was he--as an adult--responsible for that? No, the divorce/stress was, of course. T., his depression, lack of responsibility, is it his? Nope, that's on his absent mommy. When I've gambled and been irresponsible, I come home, say "Wow, I fucked up. I shouldn't do that again," and try my damnedest to fix it myself. That's what you do as an adult amirite?
So Mom and Dad aren't going to bail him out. Despite their views on people trying to screw the system and not work towards self-worth/jobs/psych help, they've helped him more than any of us ever expected through previous bills, credit card payoffs, etc. If my 'rents pay his rent, it does nothing. It'll be a crisis NEXT month. The saddest part is that I fully expect to hear of my brother's suicide. I'm absolutely serious. And I can't tell you how much I love him. He was always a great brother; people thought we were blood-related as kids because we were practically identical. He never bragged about his super-high grades while mine sucked. He played my girly board games--Sweet Valley High, Babysitter's Club, fuck, GIRL TALK--with me. And here I am, feeling like I'm writing his eulogy. I wanna call him, but he probably won't answer his phone. Every time I've tried getting him here and telling him he should come by, he says something like, "I can't do that right now, I'm too stressed." It hurts. It really does.
*more sigh* But I called my bio-dad today. He was gonna come by and see what the noise coming from our furnace was, but with everything that happened we canceled. He might come tomorrow. We'll prolly end up watching MSTies, because that's a thing we fuckin' love. I don't expect anything from him, because I can't. I accepted that ages ago. But I know he loves me, and I love him, even if he's messed up in major, severe ways in BOTH of his failed marriages. I can't dwell on it. Refuse to. I'm just his kid, not a wife or his lawyer, whatever else. I'm gonna be 35 in less than a month. Done and done.
Sorry to dump this in my journal; just needed to get it out. Love you guys.
...
Not much!
Thankfully, this is not my husband posting that I'm either a.) hospitalized and in a coma, or b.) dead, which is what I WOULD have been if I'd gotten only a mile more into my trek home when my breaks started failing, going 55-60 on Rte. 5. After dropping Pan off back at work, the brakes we THOUGHT were fixed, which had been grinding and sounding awful, showed their fail when I went to stop at a light and I felt no pressure and the pedal had to go all the way down to slow to a stop. (As a disclaimer, I don't think our mechanic screwed us; he's been my main-man since I got my license, rec'ced by my mom who'd seen him for decades. We'll see what comes of it, as he has the car now). This led to panic, especially when there was no place to stop in the city and I realized that I had to go over the bridge and choose which rotary exit to take that wouldn't lead to my demise.
I chose NOT to take the highway (duh) and went down the main road with my hazards on, letting people behind me know that there was a GOOD REASON for my crawling at 20 mph to a gas station. And thank goodness again that both sets of parents are around, my mom coming down with her AAA memberships, Pan's dad getting Gavs from school. But needless to say, I'm still shaken. So fuckin' scary.
But as I think I'm gonna do every time something bad happens, I shall post one of my fave Minchin vids that made me laugh just thinking about while walking home from the store after Mom dropped me off. I rec this to ANY-one who's had a shit, crap, lousy day...
"Some People Have it Worse Than I"
Click to viewWhile waiting for the tow truck with my mom, I made sure she knew that this new ridiculousness wasn't our fault as we'd tried fixing it less than a month ago. She sometimes gets antsy and pissy when we hit hard times like this when it's due to negligence, as she's always been astute and on-top of things when it comes to fixing cars before tragedy--etc., etc. But luckily, she understood and felt bad about our situation.
ONE reason for her not being ticked off was the fact that my stepbrother T. (not my older one who had the divorce) is hitting rock-fucking-bottom. By that I mean he's been trying to get on any social program/welfare/unemployment for ages, even if besides psych issues he does not qualify; not helping himself through psych evaluations and seeking medical help adds fuel to the fire. I love him and feel for him, KNOW he's clinically depressed, but he won't help himself, so with the lack of self-esteem/funds/medical attention to his rotting teeth (I don't know how he isn't dead from severe infection when it comes to this), he hasn't paid his rent for three months and his landlord's taking him to court to start eviction proceedings.
*long, tired sigh* So Dad went by last night to get him a few things, but even with my parents being good with money--not OMG SUPER-AWESOME-RICH--he himself has been on disability as he took a REALLY bad fall a month of so ago. In fact, I think he's had trouble getting help with that, even though he's been an extremely hard-working, dedicated guy in every job he's had. At any rate, here's yet *another* blow to him, as both of his sons are basketcases and ALWAYS, ALWAYS in trouble.
I think the thing that pisses me off is how my brothers have always treated our family situation. Here's the breakdown:
1.) My mom marries my bio-dad in 1969, has me in 1976.
2.) Around 1980, Mom has had it with my father's cheating, drugging ways and kicks him to the curb. Father pays no support, we go on welfare.
3.) '81-'82, Mom meets my now-stepdad (who I just outright CALL 'Dad', which confuses everyone). He has two sons from his first wife himself, the woman who bailed on them while he was in the military in feckin' Germany.
4.) '83, they marry, move in to our already-established house which my mom broke her back to keep, instead of camping out at their Nana's, a royal PITA.
Every kid who deals with divorce has issues, of course, myself included. I had my 'angst years' when I was 12-13, but got help and counseling when it started getting bad. Young-brother T. was always a sweetheart, while older brother J. was (IS) one of the most impossible people on the planet. But as sweet as T. is, he adopted the same "woe is me, my mom left me" attitude J. had.
Around 12 years ago after my brother bailed on his Marines service ten minutes into it, he came to my friend's Pagan shop to hang out with me and vent. I was willing to listen--until he said "we came from a broken home". My head whipped away from the MahJong game I was playing to him and said, "O RLY??"
I proceeded to define 'broken home' to him, using the array of examples from the daycare I worked at. Moms living in abused-women shelters hiding from abusive boyfriends, parents needing 9 hour care days for their kids for work and they STILL can't keep up with life, etc., etc., fuckin' etc. "We were the fucking Brady Bunch, T.," I'd said. I managed to make him see how stupid and insulting it was, as he told me years later how right I'd been.
But no matter what, both stepbrothers do nothing but blamed their fucked-uppedness on "MY MOMMY LEFT ME". Their "Mommy" did nothing but screw their father. She jumps from one religion to the next--we're talking Judiasm, Paganism, Christianity, Buddhism, and Native American practices in a matter of 20 years. She married another VERY wonderful man in the 80's, dumped HIM, went soul-searching then realized she was a lesbian. And FINE, but why screw a couple googolplexes worth of people to "find yourself"? She's never around for them, but they won't stop trying to suck her teat well into their adulthood. They all but worship her, pine after her, and I'm sick of it.
And if I may reiterate, my own father left me and Mom in the lurch in a HUGE way. I have a relationship with him, but I don't need him. My stepfather served as a fantastic dad--one I consider my REAL "father", and it pisses me off that here he and his sons were, moving into a nice big home, my mom making us dinner every single night for over 15 years, going to all of our school functions--standing up to J.'s many bullies--and all they do is complain about her. Can she be a real pain? Oh, you bet. But she loved and cared for us, and they DON'T care. We came from a broken home. Life sucked. Right?
When J. gambled his marriage into divorce, when he had drug and drinking problems, was he--as an adult--responsible for that? No, the divorce/stress was, of course. T., his depression, lack of responsibility, is it his? Nope, that's on his absent mommy. When I've gambled and been irresponsible, I come home, say "Wow, I fucked up. I shouldn't do that again," and try my damnedest to fix it myself. That's what you do as an adult amirite?
So Mom and Dad aren't going to bail him out. Despite their views on people trying to screw the system and not work towards self-worth/jobs/psych help, they've helped him more than any of us ever expected through previous bills, credit card payoffs, etc. If my 'rents pay his rent, it does nothing. It'll be a crisis NEXT month. The saddest part is that I fully expect to hear of my brother's suicide. I'm absolutely serious. And I can't tell you how much I love him. He was always a great brother; people thought we were blood-related as kids because we were practically identical. He never bragged about his super-high grades while mine sucked. He played my girly board games--Sweet Valley High, Babysitter's Club, fuck, GIRL TALK--with me. And here I am, feeling like I'm writing his eulogy. I wanna call him, but he probably won't answer his phone. Every time I've tried getting him here and telling him he should come by, he says something like, "I can't do that right now, I'm too stressed." It hurts. It really does.
*more sigh* But I called my bio-dad today. He was gonna come by and see what the noise coming from our furnace was, but with everything that happened we canceled. He might come tomorrow. We'll prolly end up watching MSTies, because that's a thing we fuckin' love. I don't expect anything from him, because I can't. I accepted that ages ago. But I know he loves me, and I love him, even if he's messed up in major, severe ways in BOTH of his failed marriages. I can't dwell on it. Refuse to. I'm just his kid, not a wife or his lawyer, whatever else. I'm gonna be 35 in less than a month. Done and done.
Sorry to dump this in my journal; just needed to get it out. Love you guys.