I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I think it's ... hold on let me check... four months. Damn that's a long time. Well, I've been dealing with the loss of my child as has my husband. We decided to name the child Jordan as naming a lost child can be a good coping mechanism. We picked Jordan because it's a gender neutral name and as I was only 9 weeks at the time of the miscarriage we didn't know the sex of the baby.
I was worried about many things happening due to losing my child and many of those have come to fruition. I was worried about how I would handle all of the "God needed another angel" statements from my mainly Christian family and though I've never said anything aloud to them this has caused me to be more open about my faith on my facebook. I never used to be just because of the fact that I have many family members in my friends list and I didn't want to deal with the controversy but now I don't care. I've even made my cover photo purely Wiccan related. My profile picture was at one time as well. And I've been posting more Wiccan related articles and pictures. This has caused a more strained relationship with my mother but as I said: I don't care.
I'm tired of hiding who I am to make my mother happy. I'm tired of accepting all this bullshit from people who know that I'm not Christian still pushing their beliefs on me. To learn from my own fucking mother that the reason she's sad that I have lost my child is because he couldn't be born and saved through baptism so now he's stuck in purgatory and that she now has to add another rosary to her daily prayers for all those in purgatory and for all those in her family that are being turned away from God by Satan. It's all religious bullshit and it's pissing me off so much that it has put a strain on my sanity and my marriage. Hubby and I have been arguing more lately and it's all because I'm so depressed and pissed all the time and then having to deal with my mother all day every day and then have my husband come home from work and make short statements that normally wouldn't even bother me but now have me snapping at him in a complete rage. And not just him but I've snapped at my mother, my sisters, my friends.
My plan was to be out of this apartment quickly. Hubby and I moved in just over two years ago and it was supposed to just be for about 6 months. Well, look at how that turned out. Hubby actually lost two jobs in our first year here which definitely set us back. We tried to save up the money for me to get my drivers' license (as we couldn't afford the class when I was in school it will cost me about $500 to take the class before I can get my license) but then I started to go blind in my right eye. Starting with a squiggly black line in the middle of my vision and spreading to where I could only see out of the top eighth of my right eye and my peripheral vision was completely gone. We decided then to use the money we'd already saved to try and find out what was wrong with my eye. 3 weeks, 5 vision tests, 3 dilated pupils, and a bill for $1500 later I quit. My vision was already starting to return and the bills where going to end up bankrupting us.
Hubby got his current job a little over a year ago and though this job is the best job he's ever had (in his own words) saving money has gotten harder. We pay my parents $33 a week (as he gets paid weekly), he pays his $46 phone bill once a month, we spend a total of $110 a month on cigarettes (both of us get them every other week), then there are normal expenses through out the month. Mainly hubby getting himself something to eat before going to work at 10pm 5 nights a week. Then there's gas, groceries, putting away as much as we can into savings, paying off our credit card sometimes with the bare minimum. So after netting around $1200 a month we end up with around $200 left. It's discouraging to have these unexpected bills come up.
Unexpected as hubby having to have a
tooth pulled,
losing a father/father-in-law and a child, and many other things. It would help if I could go out and get a real job. As of right now my parents pay me $50 every two weeks for "taking care" of my mother. The reason they started to pay me is because back in April of 2012 my mother stepped on a piece of glass in the kitchen in the middle of the night. We are still to this day unsure where it came from. It got embedded in her big toe and she was screaming in pain. At this time hubby and I were sleeping in the living room on a pull out couch. Due to this I heard her and jumped up to help her out. I pulled out the glass and doctored her up so that she could walk with less difficulty. The following day my parents came to me with $50 and said thank you and that they would continue to pay me the $50 every other week for helping my mother out around the house. I agreed because cool an extra $100 a month couldn't hurt.
Well it doesn't go far. I pay my own $46 phone bill once a month then buying myself extra packs of cigarettes when I need them because I smoke so much more living here with my mother than I did when I lived any where else. The reason being is that my mother has taken "caregiver" to a whole new extreme. I don't just help her into/out of the shower when she needs me. I don't just go grocery shopping for her. I don't just help her clean up certain areas of the house to get the place ready for the monthly inspection. I also bring her food every 4-5 hours. And I mean it it's fucking 4-5 hours. She'll be starving but she'll only eat a child's portion then be hungry soon after and I'm literally running around all day getting her different food, and making and bringing her coffee, switching out her DVDs, etc. etc. etc. I don't feel like a caregiver, I feel like a child again. When I was a kid living with my parents I was in charge of cooking dinner every night, making and serving coffee, doing the household laundry for all five of us once a month, mowing the yard once a week in the summer, etc. etc. etc. Now I'm not bitching about having chores. That's a given as a child. But because I was the eldest child I was tasked with doing damn near every chore there was. My sisters were only tasked with keeping their rooms clean.
Now that I'm an adult trying to make my way in this world with my husband I feel like I'm 13 again being charged with cleaning and cooking everything while everyone else sits on their computers playing, or watching movies, or napping all damned day. It's fucking frustrating and I just can't fucking live like this for the rest of my life. But there are days where I feel like I'll be stuck here forever. That dealing with the stress of my mother will end my marriage, will end my individuality, will end me. If I could get a real job I'd be able to help get us out of her faster but due to me not having a license and the household only having one vehicle I have to search within walking distance. And though I've applied at around 50 places within 30 minutes walking distance none have accepted. I've applied at many of them three and four times now. Each time being told the normal "we're not hiring" "you're under qualified" etc. etc. etc.
Anyway I feel like and in fact I'm sure that I've rambled through this entire post but I'm so exhausted, depressed, pissed off, and stressed that I can't keep my thoughts in line right now. Well, here's hoping things start to get better....
)o( Jena
