I got groceries alone, and I am really thinking I need to disappear…

Hubby and I made a deal, if I did the grocery shopping he would wash all the eggs we had waiting to be washed. I agreed to the deal and then remembered he would have washed them all anyway. CRAP! But no takebacks. So off I went to Walmart.  As usual I put my reusable bags in the bottom of the cart whenI walked in so when my cart was overfowing (literally – we try to shop a month at time for things other than perishables)….So I had to dig through the cart to get those out. Fun times.  And I hate the way people look at me when my cart is overflowing. Take a picture it’ll last longer…. they probably do and I am on the people of Walmart site somewhere.  Once I finished Walmart I went to the local grocery store for meat. We don’t buy our meat at Walmart.

So I get home and one child ignores me and the other hollers at me.  I said maybe it would be better if I were gone.  And I wasn’t kidding.  I am so tired of being disrespected, not listened to, and ignored. I want to run away.  Part of me wants to go empty all our accounts and take off.  You know, I would settle for a full night, and full day alone in a motel with no one talking to me, no one bothering me, no one ignoring me. But that’ll never happen. So my next wish is to be sick or hurt enough to go to the hospital for a day or three.  Have meals brought to me, lay in bed and sleep as much as I want without people poking me awake.

Mary Poppins asked me about self harm the other day.  I told her I have been thinking about it a lot, especially since I can’t turn to junk food anymore if I am going to follow what the endocrinologist wants…. and I don’t want to end up like dad. But I told her I would be having my other hand done soon so I have to wait.  She joked that she was going to keep me scheduled in surgeries indefinitely …. I got plenty she could schedule- weight loss, skin removal, breast reduction, tonsillectomy, fix my other hip, lobotomy…ok that last one was a joke.

Im tired. And it’s not lack of sleep tired. I’m worn.  And I have to spend tomorrow with my mom and step dad. It’ll be the first time I have seen him since “the text”. My husband wants to punch him out… Thankfully I know he has more self control…. I hope.


Scraps of Love

A couple blog posts ago I wrote how pathetic I felt, that my desire to be loved I would accept any scraps of love offered to me.

Several people commented that I wasn’t pathetic, and a litany of wonderfully nice comments were left.  But the biggest push was from my husband.  He said that one of the things he admires most about me is my ability to love people despite their flaws.  I thought a lot about this.

It’s not me accepting scraps of love because I am pathetic, it’s me accepting and loving the person where they are, how they are despite their flaws, despite their incapacity to love the same way.  This was a revelation to me last night when I had gotten off the phone with my father.  I said “bye, I love you”.  And when I clicked end call, something clicked in my brain. I meant it.  I love him. Despite the years of abuse.  Despite letting me down time after time.  Despite rejecting me over and over.  I still love him. And this doesn’t make me weak or pathetic, it makes me more like Jesus.  I am following the commands he gave to love my neighbor, to honor my parents.

When I had this revelation about myself, I felt better. I realized that meeting people where they are, not having expectations of people they can’t give, frees me from the pain of unfulfilled expectations, it frees me to love people the way I want, and accept the love they are able to love me.

I did this with my mom several years ago, it was through therapy that I realized I was expecting things from her that she can’t offer.  And when I let go of those expectations our relationship changed immensely.

At this point I don’t know where our relationship stands because of the text and the follow-up email I sent to her. I am really hoping that she will understand where I was coming from in the email, and that we are still in a good place.

She hasn’t replied to the email, but she said she would reply eventually, until then I will be nervous, and pray that her reply is positive.

Until next time.

Mom Guilt

As I sit here with my steaming cup of tea and my comfy sweatshirt and afghan, since it’s starting to get chilly here at night (chilly by my standards it’s 59 degrees F/15 degrees Celsius hubby would say it’s gorgeous), I have been thinking about “Mom Guilt”.  All the women reading this that are moms know what I mean.

It’s that nagging feeling that you are doing everything wrong, that you could be (or should be) doing XY or Z better.  Or when something goes wrong or our kid does something we aren’t proud of we blame ourselves.  When they are falling behind, or can’t master a skill we blame ourselves. Their failures are because of us, and their successes are pure luck it seems.

I was thinking about that in terms of little one’s eye issues.  I have spent the past 2 years berating myself that she still wasn’t able to recognize all her upper and lower case letters, couldn’t write them all, couldn’t read.  Some people told me, “she’s still young, give her time”, others urged public school was the answer.  But I listened to my gut, I worked, I tried, I cried, I blamed myself, then I got an OT eval, got the eye referral, and got answers. And surprise surprise it’s not my fault. I don’t have to feel guilty that my almost 7 year old can’t read.  That she struggles with writing and recognizing letters.  This condition also effects behavior, so that’s not all my fault either.

It’s so freeing to know it’s not my fault, that there is nothing I could have done to prevent it, and there is a fix. I feel like one of the elephants have removed themselves from my chest. I feel vindicated, because this issue would not have been picked up at a public school eye screening, most school OT programs, and not even at her regular eye doctor exam.  This was found because I followed my gut that there was something to this, and I persisted. I don’t need to feel guilt, I need to feel success. I need to feel confidence in my abilities and my decisions.  I need to stop letting others opinions on my abilities, my parenting and my decisions make me waver in what I know is best for my children.

Even in my “altered” mental health I still know what’s best for my children, and I love them, and have more stake in their future than any other person- save themselves and their father- in the world.

We moms need to ban together, and ban mom guilt.  It’s the whisper of Satan in our ear.   Our enemy wants us to doubt ourselves.  He wants us to doubt our abilities, our standing as daughters of The King. We need to stand firm in His word and His promises.  He lent us the children we have because we are the best woman to do the job for the children He has sent, we need to remember that, and own that.

***I am feeling a bit of confidence tonight so I decided to write this to remind myself of it the next time I doubt my decisions, my standing in Christ, my abilities, my decisions and when I let Mom Guilt creep in again***


I have been thinking a lot about fathers.  Both father figures in my life have done nothing but disappoint me, and misuse me, in one way or another. It makes me feel very insecure  about relationships, especially with men, even my poor husband- and we have been together for 22 years.  I have issues with men in general, doctors, men in authority positions, I am very uncomfortable around them.

But it also affects my relationship with my Heavenly Father. It’s hard to imagine that there is a Father that loves me, no matter what I do, say, look like; no matter what mistakes I make.  I work hard to follow that little voice inside of the Holy Spirit so that I can always be in His will.

But I have been thinking about the text from last weekend, and maybe God is 1. Reminding me that no earthly father will ever compare to Him, and that I need to put more trust into Him, and to spend more time with Him. So I have restarted my Quiet Time first thing in the morning.

I have also been thinking that maybe God is pointing me back to unresolved issues with my biological father.  That while my step father is a father figure, I need to learn to forgive better, and learn how to have a relationship with my biological father, even though we have had the tumultuous relationship we have had, despite the fact that he continues to misuse me- maybe it’s through that relationship that I will find my voice.

I don’t know.  These are all thoughts that are just jumbled in my brain right now, and I am going to work through this texting debacle with PollyAnna on Thursday.  I did talk to Mary Poppins about it yesterday and she assured me, that first there is not one grain of truth in the text.  That it was way over the top, crossed so many lines and was lies though she doesn’t believe they were malicious intent simply ignorant and coming from the mind of someone who spends 24/7 on marijuana.  She is not a Dr against pot, but she also doesn’t feel it’s a 1 size fits all the way this person does.

Anyway, I obviously still have a lot to process, and to work through.  And I still need to decide if I am going to 1. reply to him and 2. tell my mom.


I heard this song on the radio first thing Monday morning and I could relate so much. Every line just about fit my life.


I’m tired 

I’m worn 

My heart is heavy

From the work it takes to keep on breathing
I’ve made mistakes 

I’ve let my hope fail

My soul feels crushed

By the weight of this world

And I know that you can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left
Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn
I want to know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn
I know I need 

To lift my eyes up

But I’m too weak

Life just won’t let up

And I know that You can give me rest

So I cry out with all that I have left
Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn
I want to know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Cause I’m worn
And my prayers are wearing thin

I’m worn even before the day begins

I’m worn I’ve lost my will to fight

I’m worn so heaven come and flood my eyes 
Let me see redemption win

Let me know the struggle ends

That you can mend a heart that’s frail and torn
I want to know a song can rise

From the ashes of a broken life

And all that’s dead inside can be reborn

Yes all that’s dead inside will be reborn

Though I’m worn 

Yeah I’m worn

I posted this on my Facebook wall on Monday and apparently my mother in law freaked out and called hubby called concerned that I was suicidal.  All these months she’s been saying “think positive”, that if she had a husband that loved her as much as mine loves me she’d have nothing to be depressed about.  But apparently now she realized that what I am going through is more than just looking on the bright side. It’s nice to known that she might be starting to get it. 


I had a revelation today on the way to Mary Poppins office, why I can’t just drop my dad, let him dig his own grave, let him slowly kill himself, and all the while ignore me.


He has rejected me my whole life. I have never been good enough for him. Never did enough, said enough, said the right things.  Of course with him no one has, but I actually care what he thinks.  I actually want him to love me. I want him to live.  I don’t know why.  And I want him to live more than he wants to live obviously.

Everyone else has a seemingly easy time writing him off, why can’t I?  Everyone else says, he has the right to make crappy decisions and I can’t save him… and I get that, but I can’t let go of my feelings that he needs saving. No one ever saved him from the abuse and neglect he suffered.  He’s broken just like me.

But he rejects me. Probably he feels he doesn’t deserve to be loved.  And God knows after the things he did to me I shouldn’t love him, or let him has power over me, but I do. And I do.

But there’s nothing I can do.  Except pray he either finds peace and dies a dignified death, or changes his tune and does what he’s supposed to.

As for me, it’s more rejection to face, another obstacle in my quest to get better, and to have freedom in Christ.

Rejected. Such a sad and lonely word.  But it’s another label to add to my collection.

Until next time….

A Disturbing Thought I Can’t Shake

When I woke up this morning the first thought I had was a line that I “thought” came from Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol”, but I have since skimmed the book and haven’t found the line…. that doesn’t mean it’s not there. I heard it somewhere and I could’ve sworn it was Dickens.

“He died the same way he lived, alone”.

A couple days ago I said maybe I would talk about what was going on with my father. First of all unless you are a first time reader you know my relationship with my dad is more than complicated.  He has abused me since I was a tiny baby, and while he can no longer physically hurt me, he manipulates me, guilts me, psychologically and mentally abuses me.  And I let him.

One day last week he was discharged from the rehab he was in.  Medicare would no longer pay for him to stay and he’s stiffed more than one facility on self-pay (several he stayed at for a month without paying a dime).  So this particular facility discharged him “home” because he lied.  He said he had to go to a hotel that night because his house was being fumigated but his fiancé would bring him home the next day.

So which lie do we start with?  Lie #1 This month the bank seized his house.  My sister had 4 days to get as much of his stuff out of there as she could. So he had no house to go to, he had a motel or a homeless shelter. Lie #2 His fiancé broke up with him a year ago this past March, as in 16 months ago.  He has no one.  He has pushed away, used and abused everyone that ever tried to help him. Lie #3 Both my sister and I asked him about discharge plans and he said there were no plans to discharge him so we had no idea all this was going down until my sister got a call that he couldn’t stay at the hotel, and she had to go get him, when he was trying to check into because he was a liability.  Eventually they let him stay 2 or 3 days, and he moved to a different hotel, which is where he currently is, as far as I know.

I say as fas as I know because he told me that he is done with my sister (as in relationship wise- despite she has spent the last 18 months of her life keeping him alive), and he told me he will never again tell me where he is because I will just tell my sister and she will get him kicked out, because we want him institutionalized.  And he’s right.

Now let me tell you WHY we want him put in a nursing care facility.  Back in October 2016 he was found unconscious, by his ex-fiance who had come over to bring something for his dog that she had taken care of for him.  The ambulance came.  He had lost control of his bowels and his bladder, had a seizure, aspirated the food he had been eating into his lungs, his blood sugar was in the 30’s and while they were there his heart stopped for 3 minutes.  For 3 minutes he was DEAD. Laying around his house was all food he shouldn’t eat.

They were able to revive him.  He had no reflex activity for a day so we weren’t sure if we would be facing a pull the plug decision or not.  He woke a couple days later, and it took a couple more days for him to be cognizant of who everyone was etc.  He still didn’t understand what happened him, and to this day I am not positive he understands the gravity of the situation.  And he still is adamant that he was on his way to have a dialysis fissula put in and ended up in the hospital. No amount of convincing can change his mind on that.

He spent a significant time in the hospital and in rehab.  He had close to 0 kidney functioning so he started dialysis 3x per week. After refusing OT/PT/Speech a certain number of times the insurance company kicked him out of rehab. He wanted to go home and he is a master manipulator so he worked the system.  Oh did I mention at one point he lost his medicaid and my sister had to pick out a plan for him from the marketplace, for which he resented her for.  So he was dishcharged home with the understanding he would have home health come, PT and OT come.

Once at home obviously old habits continued.  He can’t see due to cataracts so he had to have people shop for him, and his shopping list looked like that of a teenage boy. It wasn’t long before he refused the home health nurse, OT and PT, though he told my sister and I they were there and what they were working on etc.  But unbeknownst to him my sister was talking to the home health company and they were telling her that they would only try a few more times.

By the end of January when my cousin would come to get his groceries he would be sitting in dirty adult diapers, shirts covered with feces, and at one point she got a look at his foot and sent pics to us. We tried to intervene and he said his foot was looking better etc. A couple weeks later my cousin again saw his foot this time, it was black halfway up and smelled horrendous.  It was gangrene,  This was a Sunday night and she finally convinced him to go to the ER.  He went and they told him that he needed an emergency amputation.  To say he was LIVID was an understatement.  He didn’t believe them, and wanted to leave.  But my sister upon hearing the news dropped everything and went to him.

Now let me stop here and say what you all may be wondering- why hadn’t we tried to have him declared incompetent.  First of all, several repots were made to adult protective services, by my sister and I, his doctor, the rehab nurses, even the police.  But in his state it takes up to 90 days for anything to happen. So we were doing due diligence.

She went to him and convinced him to have the amputation. That night they cut the gangrene part off, and would wait a few days for some infection to drain before they would decide how much further up they would have to go, but they were thinking just below the knee.  Which is what it ended up being.  I give kudos to my sister.  She said it’s a smell she will never forget as long as she lives.  She sent me pics and I will never be able to unsee them.  At the time of his admission he was also severely malnourished, and had no muscle tone or strength.

So he spent about a month in the hospital post amputation and then was moved to his first rehab.  He was horrific to the nurses.  He would be on the phone with me and be screaming at them.  He was having people sneak him in KFC, McDonalds, he was ordering pizzas to be delivered. Nothing had changed. After refusing PT/OT etc the insurance company refused to pay anymore, so he became self pay.  He said he would, but when it came time to pay each week he refused.  They let him stay there one month without any payment.  One day at dialysis he became very ill, was incoherent and was brought by ambulance to the hospital.  When he came to, he took a look at where he was and said no way, I am not going to be here Im fine and tried to take a cab- now imagine a man with one leg, in a hospital gown getting in a cab. He did it and went back to rehab.  But they couldn’t take him because he had no orders to be there since he had signed out AMA.  He was LIVID.  He was screaming at my sister on the phone.  It was a nightmare.  We finally convinced him to go back to the hospital where he stayed for a little while.  They had to deal with a clotting in his fissula, among other issues including an infection in his finger that had turned to gangrene. The doctor told him it had to be removed but he refused.  So they bandage it up and did wound care. The doctor warned him right now it’s just a finger but soon it will be a hand, an arm, his life. Still my father refused.

Then they moved him to his next rehab. Here, he said the place was nicer but he hated the food.  That was consistent throughout all the places he stayed- and that’s because he wants to eat other than what is allowed on the dialysis diet.   Im not sure how long he stayed here before he was kicked out for non-payment and moved to his final rehab hospital.

I would say at this last place he stayed about 3 weeks.  And he was discharged because he had met his PT and OT goals.  He finally realized that was the key. However, he still had malnourishment, little to muscle tone and a gangrene finger. When he was discharged he lied to the facility. He told them that he would need to be brought to the local motel because his house was being fumigated and his fiancée would bring him home the next day.

Now we all know that the fiancé had not been in the picture for months so we don’t even need to discuss that. However at the beginning of June his house was seized by the bank for nonpayment of mortgage, we had known this was coming for months and starting last May my sister had been trying to convince him to let her help him find an apartment so that they didn’t have to move out in a rush when the sheriff showed up. But true to form he refused and the moving became an emergency on her part she had four days to get as much as she could out of the house. When she went in the house it was disgusting I won’t even go into details and she hasn’t even shared all the details with me. She got as much as she could in two days, rented him a storage unit and put it all in there.

So back to why he won’t tell us where he is. He was moved to a new motel by cab where he called me as well as his ex fiancé. So she told my sister and I where he was. When I talked to him on the phone as usual he was verbally abusive to me and doesn’t understand why I think he needs help. He told me he was going to get a cell phone and move and never tell us where he was. He said he was done having a relationship with my sister and that I better not tell her where he is, I said to him that the last words that she had said to him were that she was done so I don’t think she would be interfering as where he is staying. And that by law I have to continue to let him make his own decisions and I would not interfere with that. He was belligerent and mean and I said to him to call me if you needed anything and then he hung up on me.

The next day he called me from the bathroom his prosthesis had fallen off and he couldn’t get out of his wheelchair to get onto the toilet and he yelled and screamed at me for God knows what reason but he said the front desk was too busy to come and get his leg for him and that they would come eventually. explain different ways that he might be able to get his leg himself and I suggested that maybe he call the ambulance at this point he hung up on me and all I could hear were buttons being mashed into my ear.
He told me that eventually he got a coathanger and use that to get his prosthesis and put it on by pushing his foot against the bathtub then he was able to use the restroom and then had a visitor for a while he said all this to prove to me that he could live alone. However, what I said to him was not to rub salt in any wounds but you should look at today and think about how hard independence is. He started screaming that I my sister and I want him institutionalized and at that point he said it cost me every minute I speak to you and he hung up. 
On Monday my sister received a text from my cousin my father had fallen and called her to come and pick him up off the floor, this it happened more than once in the past couple days apparently. She also told my sister that his finger looked terrible it was black and spreading. She had tried to get him to go to the hospital. And he said he was doing his own wound care and all it needed was some peroxide and she said yeah like your foot? He called her again Monday to be picked up off the floor and my sister urged her to call the ambulance and the police. So she did.

A police officer and the ambulance showed up at the hotel and picked him up off the floor. They urged him to go to the hospital and he refused and unfortunately it is his right to refuse medical care. My sister spoke with the officer and the EMT the EMTs said that he could have just snapped the finger off it was so bad.  They urged her to make another report to elder care for self-neglect.

This was Monday and I’ve heard nothing sense I haven’t talk to him since Sunday. Part of me is worried he is dead on the hotel floor and part of me says if he is he put himself there. I just texted my sister and asked her if she thought he went to dialysis yesterday and if I called they would tell me. My sister spoke with the DCYF today and they urged us to take over power of attorney my sister said that that’s a lengthy process and the woman said that they could get an emergency hearing in the next day or so. The problem is neither of us are sure we want to be the one responsible for him he is abusive he is downright mean he is manipulative.  We are pretty sure he’s borderline personality disorder her and narcissistic and who knows what else. My sister has two options she can take guardianship of him or we can look at a public guardian to take guardianship of him.  

If we let a public guardian take guardianship of him we have no say in anything but at the same time we don’t know if we want to have any say. We are really stuck between a rock and a hard place. All I know is I have a sick feeling in my stomach and I don’t know what’s best for everyone involved other than my father cooperating which is never going to happen. 

After I typed that I needed to get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach so I called the dialysis center to make sure he had been there yesterday, he had. They also put me in touch with the social worker at the dialysis center whom I talked with her about a half an hour, and she urged me that neither my sister nor I take guardianship of him. That we need to let the State handle it because he is too abusive. She also said that she really feels that he needs a full psychological evaluation and is not sure why one hasn’t happened yet other than most caseworkers and social workers don’t want to take the time to do it but she’s willing to go the extra mile.

The difference between her and the other caseworkers I can only imagine is the fact that she’s a Christian. I know this because she talked of prayer and the Lord. It’s nice to know that there are others out there praying for him and a positive outcome, or as positive as can be expected.

After I get off the phone with her I called the hotel that he was last out I said I know you don’t typically give out information about guests staying at your facility but when I say the name I’m sure you understand, my father has cut my sister and I off and we are very concerned about him so I would like to know if he is still checked in. She said yes he is, and I’m very sorry that I can’t give you any more information I could however patch you into his room. I said that’s probably not a good idea he doesn’t want to talk to me, and I know the state was there today so I’m really sure he doesn’t want to talk to me.

I hope and pray and ask any of you that pray that the state forces him to go to the hospital and have his finger that is sepsis and gangrene taken care of and he finally gets a full psychological evaluation. I would like to see my father live a little longer, I don’t have high hopes that he’ll have a long life but I would like to see him live a couple more years at least he’s only 57 years old. And I sure as heck don’t want him to be found dead on a hotel floor.