My Journey With:

Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos syndrome (hEDS) ~ Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (POTS) ~ Focal Impaired Awareness (Complex Partial) Seizures ~ Fibromyalgia ~ Chronic Myofascial Pain (CMP) ~ Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) ~ TMJ Dysfunction ~ Bipolar Disorder Type I Rapid Cycling With Psychotic Features ~ Migraines ~ Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease (GERD) ~ Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) ~ Keratosis Pilaris (KP) ~ Complex-Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (C-PTSD) ~ Panic Disorder ~ Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) ~ Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) ~ Nonsuicidal Self-Injury (Self-Harm) ~ Piezogenic Pedal Papules ~ Hashimoto's Thyroiditis ~ Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS) ~ Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) ~ Specific Phobias ~ Chronic Daily Headache ~ High Cholesterol

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Unbelievable events when trying to get "houseguests" out

Well, here is the update from talking to them.  It did not go good.  In fact I can barely imagine it going any worst.  Tiffany got very, very, very angry and started yelling at the top of her lungs at DH.  Mind you, this is all on the front porch where neighbors could hear.  Then DH got mad at started yelling back.  I walked out there and told them they had four fucking weeks to find a place to live.  Mind you, my therapist and Jim's therapist said they need to get out for our mental health.  Then Tiffany started screaming about how fucked up I was for SI (self-injury).  How on earth she knew about it I don't know.  I am just coming forth with this big, shameful secret I've carried with me for so long.  DH and Tiffany were screaming and I added some yells in there, too.  The only person who never yelled was Derick.  (I'm not sure if that is how he spells his name.)  Then Tiffany started screaming about how fucked up and mentally ill and crazy I am.  That hurt so deeply, so did her making fun of SI, which I've struggled with for so long.  SI can become an addiction for some people, and I am one of those people.  Then Tiffany called the police on us for trying to throw her out.  DH had told them before they called the police that they better get out now, rather than Friday.  DH was packing up their groceries for them.  Then two police cars came.  They told us that if we want them to leave we have to to before a judge and get them evicted because they are considered residents if they live there for over a week.  We had no idea about this Missouri law.  If we take them to court our landlord will find out and we will be evicted along with our two babies, our kitties Sterling and Niki.  We don't want to be homeless!  So we can't take them to court.  I went into the bedroom where I tried to calm down  because I couldn't stop crying.  I don't like people to see me cry.  So after a bit I decided to try to make peace and went outside on the steps and told them that I was sorry for saying I wanted them out since day one.  I kinda did mean it, but I told them I didn't and said it out of anger and I was sorry.  Derick said okay, but then Tiffany started jumping my ass for how dare I say that.  I apologized three times before I gave up and went back into the house while she was still screaming at me.  I went inside and put their frozen foods up that Jim got out and put into a bag when we were trying to kick them out.  I didn't want their food to spoil.  So then I went back to the bedroom because I started crying again.  While there I had bad flashbacks about my dad.  I cried and cried and once again I was weak and stupid and did SI.  Then I took a hot shower so that I could think and relax.  DH came into the bathroom while I was in the shower and said he had to go over to someone's house for a bit.  He told Derick that I'm afraid of Tiffany; she could so kick my ass and she is violent.  So while Jim left Derick stayed here so that she wouldn't be alone with me.  I truly am scared of her.  I hate living with someone I'm scared of.  Derick said he will try to get the situation fixed as soon as possible.  Derick is a pretty nice guy.  He's mellow, really smart, and overall a nice guy.  Tiffany I can't stand and am scared of. I still want them out.  I want them out so bad.  Now we have no way of getting them out since we can't go to court over it.  Why would someone want to live somewhere where they really aren't wanted?

The explanation of my current stress and horrible "house guests"

You don’t realize how much you depend on the Internet and TV for entertainment. The loss of Internet meant the most to me. I'm so glad it's back on, though we still don't have cable TV. Admittedly, I do not have many friends and I cannot leave the house very often from pain. The Internet and pen pals are my ways of connecting with the outside world. My most visited sites, other than gmail, are Twitter and Facebook. On Twitter I have “tweeps” from all corners of the world that I tweet back and forth with. I think most people I follow are spoonies, feminists, Pagans, and LGBTQI peoples. On Facebook most of my friends are EDSers, fibromites, and people from C-PTSD groups. I also get to “see” my friends who aren’t spoonies. I was so afraid that the friends I’ve made online would have moved on and forgotten me by the time I get the Internet back. I really missed them, I really missed you all! 

We’ve had people staying at our house all summer long. The car has also been broken down all summer, too. First we had Brandon stay two and a half weeks. I would have turned him out after one night but DH is worried about being mean. I don’t think I’m mean. I have had people step on me all my life with shitty shoes; I do not want to be taken advantage of anymore. So Brandon, like I said, stayed two and a half very, very long weeks. The situation wasn’t made better by the fact that I cannot stand Brandon for too many reasons to list. Among those reasons would be taking advantage of DH’s and mine hospitality. While I was never mean to Brandon I didn’t hide the fact that I don’t like him. One reason I don’t like him is because DH heard Brandon say more than once he thinks this 14 year old girl across the street is “fucking hot,” and he’d like to “fuck her.” Brandon is not a teenager, he’s 21 years old. His most recent girlfriend is 16. I consider 16 child molesting and definitely consider a 21 year old man wanting to have sex with a 14 year old not only wrong, but it is child molesting. I wouldn’t be surprised if Brandon actually molested a little girl someday, if you don't count the 16 year old. He even says that stuff when watching TV and a young teen girl comes on. Apparently he doesn’t realize that he is sick and disgusting. If he asks me though, I’ll be happy to tell him he’s a sick child molester in training, if not already molesting young girls.

So after two and a half weeks of hell, in which I told my DH, every night I wanted him out; someone else came along to take advantage of DH’s kindness. Tiffany and Derick and their son Dawlton came one night saying they had no place to go. Let me make this point clear…I only agreed to this because they have a 3 year old boy. Well, they asked to stay one night. The one night turned into them wanting to stay until the 4th, when their TANF check would come in. For those of you who don’t know what TANF is, it is emergency government aid for families. Well DH talked me into letting them stay until the 4th of September, though I really didn’t want to let them. The reason I didn’t care about them going is I found out that Tiffany’s mother takes care of Dawlton all the time. So the child had a place to go after all.

Well the 4th came and went and they swore they never got the check. Considering the day I write this is September 22nd and they never talk about how they “never got the check” anymore. Maybe they realized their lies are so obviously lies that they no longer say them. I don’t know. I just want them out. They swore they’d look for jobs once and a place to live. Yeah…whatever.

They looked for jobs and a place to live for one day; it was Friday, September 3rd. I remember because I was getting excited to have my house back again. Surprisingly they didn’t find a job and place to live on that one day. I know, it’s shocking isn’t it? It “grinds my gears,” as Peter Griffin says, that they never knock, just come right in. I told them a few days ago and so did DH to stop that. Now they do one quick knock and open the door immediately.

I know I’m not a mother, and I know it’s not nice to judge someone, but Tiffany is a bad mother. She lets Dawlton spank her and hit her. Yes, I am serious. He also screams nonstop unless he is asleep. Dawlton is 3 years old. He’s also never been taught manners at all. You can barely understand him talking, he doesn’t know his colors, shapes, or alphabet, he is completely unfamiliar with manners, he thinks it is not only okay to hit, but it’s funny. He keeps stealing our kitty’s toys, too. He almost poked Niki in the eye with her favorite toy. After that I went and hid all of the toys I thought he may hurt my cat with. If he poked my cat’s eye out I totally claim no responsibility for what I do to Tiffany. I can just say that Tiffany would be in bad shape. It hurts to get knocked in the head by a spoonie’s cane. I’m non-violent, but hurt my DH or our kitties and all that flows out the window. As far as I’m concerned my family comes first always. If you hurt someone my family…well watch out…seriously.

I kicked them out a week and a half ago, but DH came in after me and told them they could stay because Tiffany was crying. That was the night when Tiffany and Derick tried to kill each other. They were on the front porch and she punched him then he punched her. Then they were on the ground, him strangling her and she was landing punches in his pace. She’s a big girl, too, with a slightly masculine build. She weighs more that Derick and I wouldn’t be surprised if those punches gave him a headache for awhile. It was drama, drama, drama and my flashbacks increased dramatically after that and so did DH's seizures.

The other day Tiffany and Dawlton spilled what must have been half a gallon of Kool-aid in the fridge and all over the rug. Did she clean it up? Nope, it’s still there. She just said “Oh well, it isn’t like the carpet isn’t ruined anyway.” Then she left it there! It’s all in the fridge and all over a large section on the floor in front of the fridge. Today I guess I have to go and clean out the fridge and scrub the Kool-aid stains before it sets, if it hasn’t already.

When I got out of my parent’s abusive control of my life I wanted to decorate my new apartment in something pretty, something me, something that represented my personal tastes. I ordered over $100 of prints of paintings and pictures of Hadrian’s Wall and a Scottish castle. I also got a Picasso print and I already had a Van Gogh print. Then I got two Waterhouse pictures. The picture of The Lady of Shallot I brought in and laid on the dryer. We are bringing stuff out of the garage because we haven’t decorated the walls yet and I want to. So, I laid it there. Well guess what Tiffany did? She washed towels, she even told me about that. I appreciated that. However instead of drying them she just threw a bunch of wet towels on the dryer on top of a whole bunch of stuff I recently brought in. As you probably guessed by now, the next day I lifted a heavy bundle of wet towels to see what she put them on top of. Of course what is lying under those towels? My framed Waterhouse print was lying under the heavy bundle of wet towels. I was furious but didn’t say anything to her at the moment. I did the other day, though. She denied it of course, just like she denied the Kool-aid incident. I hate it when people lie!

A couple days ago I decided I could no longer stand being around them. I spent the entire day in DH’s and mine bedroom. I was going to do that every day but DH convinced me that I need to be in the living room when I want because it is my own damn house. I should not have to hide in my room in my own damn house! That is what I had to do when I lived with my mom and when I lived with my sister. I hid in my room all the time to avoid the verbal and emotional abuse. No one ever physically abused me in the house I lived in with my sister. I can’t say the same for my mom’s. I would eat in my room, exercise in my room by doing squats, push-ups, crunches, and a bunch of variations on those. I also got my aerobic exercise in my room by turning on my stereo and running in place for awhile while alternating with calisthenics. I would journal, cry, have undiagnosed (at the time) seizures alone in my room, and when I had to smile I would go in my room. If I laughed or smiled my mom would plow me over with heavy psychotropic meds because only manic people smile, right?

I almost forgot. They screwed up their car, so they borrowed DH’s van. DH sometimes is too trusting. I love him so much but I just am out of patience with these people, and I don’t like people taking advantage of a really good person. So while borrowing DH’s van they ran it out of gas then busted up the thing that connects to the flywheel by trying to start it real hard over and over after it ran out of gas. They also ran the new battery dead by doing that. So DH walks the five blocks to his van a few times a day, trying to get it running enough to get it home. He’s even had to carry a heavy battery the five blocks there, then find out it didn’t fit and had to walk the five blocks back home with it. It might be cheaper to get the car running again, which has been broken all summer. DH has been walking everywhere, too. We are in such a scary financial situation. We had so many unexpected expenses in the last year. It is just really scary. I mean we actually had to go to a soup kitchen to get peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a few weeks ago so we could eat. That was when Brandon was here. He ate two of our soup kitchen sandwiches, too. He had no problem buying alcohol, which he had to drink elsewhere and not come in drunk. Neither of us can stand drunks, they are just disgusting pigs. Sorry to any binge drinkers reading this, but in my experience drunk people are usually at their worst and it is just plain disgusting the way drunk people act and smell. When alcohol makes your own friend want to kick your ass and she's much, much bigger than you and knows how to fight it makes you really not like drunk people.

Today we went to my therapist's office, DH came in with me. My therapist helped us come up with a way to throw them out. They will have until Friday to get their asses out. They've been here over a month and if the landlady found out we'd be in a world of trouble. At 5:30 pm DH and I want to sit them down and tell them they have until Friday. My therapist said that we don't need to give long explanations. We're nervous about the talk, but I think DH is a bit more nervous than me.

I think that about catches everyone up. I am growing more and more unhappy. I am dissociating for hours a time. I have at 20-30 flashbacks a day. I sleep when I can because I can escape into the murky world of my nightmares. I stay up most the night reading because it is finally quiet and I can enjoy that. I also love having DH in bed with me snuggling while he sleeps and I read. I’m depressed and I’m starting to get anxiety attacks when I haven’t had them in a long time, not since I started meditating and deep breathing exercises. DH’s seizures have increased fivefold from the stress. I even started SI (self-injury) again, so I'm really, really disappointed with myself. I feel like such a freak when it happens. It is something I struggle with on a daily basis since I was 14. It is something shrouded in shame, and that's how I feel when I screw up and SI again. I feel like a shamed loser and I hate myself for subcoming to it. I know it’s common in people with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder), and especially in cases of C-PTSD. C-PTSD is Complex-PTSD, it comes for long term years of abuse. I’ve been abused verbally, emotionally, physically, and sexually in my life.

Why are the "guests" still here? I keep wondering that. For the past week and a half we went to bed with both of us saying that we want them out. Then why aren’t they out? I'm kinda looking forward to 5:30. I'm a bit scared of Tiffany she's a big girl and if she got violent she could really do damage. DH said nobody better lay a hand on me. We have a friend, Brad, coming over on Friday so maybe with more people here there won't be any violence. I'm a bit scared about that. I know Tiffany can be violent.

DH thinks that we need to handle the situation delicately. I don’t. I just wanna walk into the room and tell them to get out soon. I want them out in the next 24 hours, but we are giving them until Friday. They haven't looked for a place to stay, except for that one day. So am I bothered by throwing them out? No. They have had plenty of time to find a place to live a hunt for a job. If they were actually really looking for jobs and a place to live I wouldn’t be so angry. They are just taking advantage of us. I want them out so bad!

I'll blog a (hopefully shorter) blog after 5:30 and after we get them to leave on Friday to let you all know what is going on. Sorry this one is so long and thanks for reading it.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Did it happen or not?

Jim thinks I did not have a mini-stroke.  The doctor did not testing, he just gave me a short physical exam, which went normal.  I think it isn't impossible I had the mini-stroke because I have PCOS and was on birth control pills.  With careful consideration I have come to the conclusion that I probably didn't have a mini-stroke, but instead had a strange seizure, unlike ones I'm ever had before.  I could only walk one way as one side of my body couldn't lead me anywhere.  I drug my foot and had to have Jim actually turn me around so I could get into the house.  I almost went out in the road like that.  I know that the one side of body deal does point to it, but I don't know for sure.  I just think I'll take a low dose aspirin daily after all, just in case.

I don't think I'm worried too much, I just want to get everything straight and if it was one then to prevent a massive stroke.


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