Frozen

     So my Christmas shopping is complete, the decorations are finished, semester is done (with what looks to be another 4.0) and yet I'm restless.  I'm not sure if restless would be such a good word.  Granted, I've thrown out 5, 55 gallon trash bags, packed up so far 5 boxes of toys, blankets, clothing, and linens to be donated to those who need it.  I can see some progress, but it seems for every one mess I clean up and organize, I find half a dozen other things to be taken care of.  Cleaning and organizing seem to be my way of dealing with very stressful times.  Yes, it hurts like hell, but it's better than being confined with nothing but a runaway mind and absurd reruns on the idiot box.  And lately, stress is an understatement.
      It is two months after my knee surgery and while it is improving slowly, it's not healing as quickly as I'd like it to.  The surgeon admitted to finding extensive damage and a difficult recovery considering a CNS and autoimmune problem.  But I make the most of what I have.  For the rest of the week it looks like I'll be moving almost a cord of wood to prepare for winter before any of it is taken out of our driveway.  I filled the porch with the wood for the fireplace upstairs on Saturday while my brother brought some down back to be stacked for the stove.  But after what I was told by him today, I'll be finishing the job.
      While it was kept quiet for as long as possible, it is no secret that my father walked out a few months ago.  My mother has been sick for years now and the medications she's been on have literally left her bedridden for days.  Simple things like getting up to go to the bathroom, pouring a cup of coffee, or even getting out of bed becomes a challenge because now that the dialysis is working, her blood pressure has been dropping too low.  But she did receive some hope this past week.  A gentlemen at the dialysis center she goes to 3 days a week to keep her alive finally received a transplant after waiting for 12 years.  I got tested to see if I was a match and was told match or not, because of my illnesses, I was ineligible as a donor.  Nine rounds of Lyme Disease, a round of Fifths Disease and having Epstein Barr prevents me from even giving blood, let alone a life saving organ.
      It's harder than one can imagine watching someone you love so much, have looked up to because of her strength and independence spend days either in bed or on the couch because she's too dizzy and drained to do much of anything.  Luckily, we do have some amazing neighbors and a handful of the best kind of friends anyone could ever ask for there for us.  Each day we wake up, unsure of what the day will bring, and deal with everything as it comes.  And some days are certainly worse than others.
     I have watched my father fall deeper and deeper into a bottle because he doesn't know any other way to cope.  I've been there for the tears, the anger, the frustration of having to go from one way of life to having to start some scratch again.  Some people don't understand, but it never stops them from trying to understand and do what they can to help.  Others just refuse to face the reality of the situation:  my mother spends 3 days a week hooked up to machines just to survive.  Most days, I'm not sure I could even call it living, but simply being alive, waiting for a donor and knowing that wait could be longer than a decade. 
      Through all of this, I admit finding ways to improve my own health has fallen by the wayside as well as my social life, but being there for her is more important than going out on a weekend.  I haven't even had a single drink in over three months.  Some is because of the surgery, but there's something about the smell, the sight, the thought of having even one drink just turns my stomach.  So I find other outlets to keep it together.  Lately, it's been reading and cleaning. 
     Then I have days like today.  While social networking sites have many benefits, including keeping in touch on a more regular basis with old friends, classmates, and family.  Then there are times I wonder if it's even worth it.  I deal with stress in many ways.  I clean, I draw, I crack dark, sarcastic jokes, I listen to different music genres.  Anything to keep from thinking.  I posted an extremely absurd article from a California doctor claiming that smoking cigarettes can cause a woman's nipples to fall off should she require a breast augmentation.  Having had multiple surgeries (never a breast augmentation,) I've had to come off certain vitamins because of their possible blood thinning effects, avoid any form of NSAID medication (advil, motrin, aspirin, aleve, etc) for the same reason, but never have I been told that I wasn't allowed to smoke.  Like any good doctor, I was told that I should quit for overall health reasons, but never because of a surgery.  There seems to be an almost fanatical group of people doing anything and everything they can to get smokers to quit, restrict when and where they can smoke, and even trying to go as far as putting graphic labels on cigarette packs in an attempt to scare the smoker. 
       When someone does start the habit, they are very aware of the myriad of possible health risks involved.  I'll be the first to admit it's a habit I never started, but I did.  At the time, it was the only way to get a break when I was working in the shop.  Yes, there are labor laws that an employee is entitled to a certain number of breaks, ranging from 15 minutes to 30 minutes.  It didn't much matter then.  The only ones who actually got their breaks were smokers.  So, I stupidly picked up the habit.  Right about now, smoking is just the least of my problems.  It's not that I don't want to quit, it's just an extremely difficult thing to do. 
      If we listened to everything these researchers and doctors have to say, we'd never leave the house.  Alcohol is good for you in moderation... alcohol can cause cancer and have other serious health related illness, even at moderate levels.  Imitation sweetners cause cancer in one study, but is disproven in another.  Apples, apple sauce, apple juice, as well as any other apple product can kill you via arsenic poison--a metal naturally found in an apple's core.  Thousands of years later, I've yet to read a story about someone dying from apple consumption unless you count choking on a piece of apple.  Coffee has some health benefits in one study, but can be a contributing factor to certain forms of cancer in another study. 
      So after reading the article about smoking, I had to say something about the absurdity of it.  While several of my friends found it amusing, if not outright absurd, I had one person--my sister in law (who is as bad as my brother when it comes to anti smoking) agree with the doctor and explain how cigarettes affect blood flow and how it is not only possible, but can hinder recovery.  It was something none of my doctors told me.  And they all know that I smoke.  Avoid some of my vitamins, yes.  Limit my caffeine intake, yes.  But other than the typical "you know smoking is bad for your health" lecture, not a word pertaining to any of my surgeries.  A few years back when I was in my 2nd year as a psychology student, I was told by her that just because I'm studying the subject, I am not a shrink.  So, after ignoring weeks of jabs, barbs, snide remarks, insults, and my input on anything purposefully being ignored and just letting it go, I used her own words against her.  Her response? "Go fuck yourself you miserable b*tch."  Classy and mature.  But once again, I left the response up there and ignored it. 
     I did, however, send my brother a message that something needs to be done because the behavior is not only immature, but unacceptable.  My mother is left to watch her grandchildren grow up on Facebook.  Her son's wife and their children spend a lot of time with her family only about 20 minutes from my house, but never once stop by so my mother can see the beautiful children.  I was told that it was my fault my mother doesn't see them.  I'm supposed to ask to see them.  They had a new phone number for over a year and never thought to give it to my mother.  I was simply an on-call babysitter as a last resort when no one else was around until I said I wouldn't anymore.  It's painful to be used.  Even more painful is seeing how such childish nonsense is hurting my mother, who has read how our family is simply another obligation and in essence is not only not good enough, but simply one of those things that on holidays and birthdays is really the only time she sees them.  She hasn't held her youngest niece in ages.  Anytime I'd take her shopping for things for the house or for her hobby, she would always find something for the kids in the hopes that they wouldn't be too old by the time she actually got to see them.  But it seems it's my fault.  I'm a selfish, self loathing b*tch and the reason my mother doesn't see her kids.  I am nothing, I will never amount to anything, and all I do is sit on my arse, crying why me, too lazy to get a job or keep a job, having never taken responsibility for my actions, irresponsible, lazy, and can't take care of anything bigger than a hamster.  And then to top things off (as if blaming me and degrading me wasn't enough) he went on to say that if he was in my father's shoes, having to live with such a lazy piece of crap like me who'll never be or do anything with my life, he'd drink himself to death as well.  And my mother saw it.  The same woman who's active, independent life was taken away from her and until a transplant becomes available, won't be able to do much or go anywhere herself.  And there are no words to describe the pain on her face as her husband began drinking as a way to cope with her illness, the same man who continued to distance himself because I was there to pick up the slack, pick up the pieces, and take care of what needed and needs to be done.  Until he left to go take care of himself.  No, I didn't "trashtalk" my own father, but I was angry for a lot of reasons.  And I had every right to be angry. 
       There is no pain greater than hearing from a member of your own family, one who is supposed to be there for you, turn a blind eye to the damage the woman he married caused, and instead of finding a solution to the problem (like normal adults would do), tear you apart, in no uncertain terms blame you for everything after calling you nothing but wasted space, and top it all off with blaming you for the fact that your own father is drinking himself to death because you're nothing more than a worthless, useless, pathetic excuse for a person.  I would never wish the pain I feel at the hands of another on even my worst enemy.  I guess for some, it's easier to turn a blind eye instead of actually seeing the truth in things, easier to rip apart the one person who was always there, tearing them down to absolutely nothing, than learn the full reality of a situation.  And it's people like that I feel sorry for.  I feel even sorrier for the children who will never learn the truth of any of it.  My brother and I never did when half of our family was torn apart and all we know of them are names and bits and pieces of news of how their lives are as if they're just a group of people who moved out of the neighborhood.  And I'm beginning to agree with my father in not even wanting to acknowledge Christmas this year.  It's not a holiday to celebrate and be thankful for what you have when you've lost so much and that loss weighs more heavily on your mind than anything else.  There are no words to describe the pain caused by my own flesh and blood.  The only thing to do from this point is to just keep busy and distracted and find a way to accept the fact that I'll never have the chance to get to know my own nieces.  No pictures, no hugs, no stories, nothing.  The worst part aside from my own pain and seeing the pain it put my mother through is that eventually we'll learn to live with this reality is that the ones who will suffer worse are the children.  Again.  And another generation of our family lives to repeat the mistakes of the past.