Fuck Makin' Lemonade Outta Lemons!

This last week has not been the easiest week. As many of you that follow me on the twitterverse and Facebook know, two of my kitties are missin'. A full week later, and they're still missin'. That's bad enough. Things have gone downhill from there.

There are two bright spots. First, the DH and I are not at odds any more. We talked about the situation at long last, and came to an understandin' (see the previous blog) . He apologized. So did I. It's what people who love each other do, but sometimes ya wade through a hell of a lot of mud (or worse) to get there.

Have gotten thyroid under control, now my anemia has shot sky high, not sure what the doc is gonna wanna do to fix that. Both arms look like someone threw a boulder on 'em from the blood tests taken on me. Results from latest blood work in, playin' phone tag with doctor's office on that matter, and not sure what the treatment will be.

Daddy is gettin' restless about bein' in the nursin' home. He wants to go home, and is very frustrated with me that I'm not in favor of it - unless he gets a home health care visit every day. Since the pattern of the last year is that he goes there, gets his strength back, and then goes home only to lose every bit of headway he gains, I feel like a home health visitor is needed for him to go home. So, he yelled at me over the phone for not bein' more supportive of him. Hollered, yelled, raised his voice. Fury. Anger. Accusation of not carin' about him while I'm talkin' to the Nursin' Home people long distance to make this goin' home thing possible.

I feel guilty that the two kitties got out from my carelessness with that garage door. One of the kitties is a fosterling, that a good friend and former on - air employer entrusted to me for 'safe' keepin'. (HA!). Well, we see how long that lasted! That's why I didn't post their names for the last week. She's been recoverin' from a near deadly car accident last year, in a lot of pain, and I didn't want to add to it. Well, that cat gpt let out of the bag (no pun intended). She knows, and she was encouragin' and forgivin'. Considerin' I'm havin' a hard time forgivin' myself.

Me birth mother had another episode, sendin' a letter tellin' me of some kind of strange thing that she saw on my back 30 odd years ago and suggestin' it might be somethin' serious and should be checked. This was her response to my letter after Christmas statin' why it was not a good idea for us to re - establish communications. Her chronic mental illness and bein' the focus of her mania is just too much to endure. For that, I've been called hateful and callous.

Then, finally, the straw that has broken my spirit. Today we learned of good news at work. Comin' off a three week period of bein' short staffed on the night shift, it was nice to have somethin' positive.

My heart - little brother (he's not related to me in any way, size, shape, or form, but I love him as much as a blood relative. He's the little bother I never had, and loved as much as my older step - brother) blew up at me via long distance after I shared this news with him. It was brutal, and harsh words were exchanged on both sides.

He was off work today and wasn't in on the news. Wanted to share it with him and how I'd also brought to the attention of the people in charge that his shift was every bit as deservin' of shift differential as mine. I really played devil's advocate with them, askin' questions that hadn't been asked and needed to be asked. The upshot is that the shift differential thing is under consideration.

Well, my HLB didn't see it as good news. He emailed a snarky remark. I responded what a suggestion, and got more snark. Let it ride a couple of hours, then sent a text that was intended to be funny, but apparently didn't get received that way.

A little digression here, texts and emails don't let ya see the other person's face/expressions or tone of voice. You don't hear/see the 'nudge, nudge, wink, wink, big evil grin' of in person communications. Words alone can sting. Sarcasm and snark might not be intended, but found. Gawd knows my idol Kurt Sutter gets a steady dose of this from his tweets! But, it's the way we all communicate these days, short of havin' vision phone, and I'm not goin' there any time soon!

So, from the text I sent came a torrent of harsh emails, voice mails, and facebook messages that flew fast and furious (or at least furious!) between the two of us. His tone of email/text came off as hurtful. Despite that, clued him in on the fact that one of the trainees had taken over his desk during his days off so he wouldn't be shocked/surprised on return to work. That induced more snark from him.

It's not like I demanded he genuflect and kiss my ass for havin' his back, just a thanks for the support and/or sharin' the news would've been nice. So he flung verbal pooh and I flung it back. The hurts continued to fester. He called the sincerity of my care and concern for him and the problems on his plate into question; called me oversensitive and said that I needed to get a grip. He also called my voice mail message - in which I was cryin' out in pain to him - as melodramtic and how it had embarrased him because other people overheard the call and told him about it.

The impression came off that in comparision to his emotional load (and he IS carryin' a pretty big burden), my emotional load matters little to him. An emotional load is an emotional load, and when one is at one's low point, one tends to reach out for whatever anchor/life perserver is available. Sometimes ya reach for such and it's just outta reach - or worse - gets pulled away from ya.

The unkind thought came to mind that his lashin' out was unjust return for all he'd been given freely and gladly. Furthermore, the thought came to mind that the one time his support and time was requested it was turned down and was meekly accepted. Yeah, you could say that the cat flexed her claws a mite.

After the last harsh FB message from him, I sent up a white flag of sorts and said I can't keep doin' this, it'd be nice if we could talk like adults instead of fightin' via the interwebz. Unfortunately the cat got a little dig in at the end. When HLB posted that he was home safe, I sent a text to say 'Hey, glad you're home. Despite harsh words, still love you.'

Can only imagine the reception I'm gonna get tomorrow from him. He's gonna be doin' the work assignments tomorrow, which was what I was doin' today while fieldin' the interwebz fight. Cold shoulder? Anger? Snarkcasm? Total indifference? It's hard to tell.

Right now, I'm emotionally, spritually, and maybe even psychologically fragile. I'm tired of bein' the support beam when there's nothin' under me. I'm tired of havin' to work like a dog because we're short two people on our shift and expected to produce the same numbers as when we're up to full capacity. Not knowin' whether my missin' furbabies are alive or dead is pure torture to me. Bein' at odds with the husband was just as difficult.

In fact, there was a moment this week when I feared losin' my marriage, my health, and my sanity. Well, at least one of those is back on an even keel now. With the anemia and my depression at a new all - time low, the other two are questionable at best.

Yes, I'm takin' my depression and PTSS meds. I don't dare NOT take 'em. I cry a lot right now because Life actually literally HURTS. It'd be nice to crawl into bed, pull the covers up over my head, and never come out from under. Unfortunately, life doesn't work that way.

Fortunately, teh interwebz makes reachin' out to friends possible. A good friend across the pond took time out of her work day to let me cry on her virtual shoulder. She helped me clear the trees so I could see the forest. I've never met this woman, but love her much as my heart sister. She's a wonderful lady, and I'm proud that she's accepted me as a trusted friend.

So, tonight, I'm gonna have one Hell of a good cry in the shower, take my PTSS meds, and go to bed. I'll go try to reason with me da, play another round of phone tag with the doctor's office, spend time with my remainin' kitties, try to write on chapter 15 (which has taken a back seat to the needs of the many), and then go into work and try to endure whatever comes my way.

I only hope that my HLB and I haven't completely lost the friendship. Sometims the people who are closest to you can hurt you the most - whether they be husband, wife, friend, brother, sister, father, mother, or lover. They can do the most hurt because we expect so much from them.

Forgivin' is easy. Forgettin' the hurt takes time - for all of us.

And that's why I say fuck makin' lemonade outta lemons. Sometimes when ya step in a big pile of manure, you just wanna leap in a stream to wash off the stink. This is one of those times.

Thanks for lettin' me vent, my friends.