TLDR;
This is one of those days where I question, yet again, why I am alive.
Mom woke me up at 8:30 AM to tell me of Social Security's latest douche move. It was a very BIG douche move. I let her rant, and then I proceeded to tell her my thoughts.
I made her cry.
I always make her cry.
I honestly cannot even recall the last legitimate conversation I have had with her in which I did NOT make her cry.
I cannot make her happy. I cannot make myself happy.
We had been counting on Social Security to not screw us over, so of course, that's what they did, although every time we talk to our representative in the administration, we are told something different. I think they just cannot (or will not) read the information presented to them.
Regardless, with this news, I don't know what we're going to do. Probably lose our house. Even with my upcoming job, there's no fucking way I can rack up enough money for the taxes we have to pay THIS YEAR for two or three previous years. Mom works at Wal-mart on the weekends; I will be a school teacher in Oklahoma. It's just not happening, so we'll probably lose our house.
It doesn't surprise me at this point. If something is going to go wrong, particularly when things are finally looking up, it is going to go wrong and crash and fucking burn.
Still can't get a summer job despite my efforts.
Mom's alternator is dying in her car.
My dogs are... themselves. If you've met them, you understand that.
My stress levels are well through the roof. They are beyond the atmosphere, beyond Mars, and possibly beyond that former planet known as Pluto. They may even extend further than that.
I told Mom today that I don't want to be alive. I was blunt. I wasn't crying. I wasn't joking.
She told me not to say that again.
I said, "If that's what you want."
I don't live for myself. Everything I do is for my family, which really isn't a family these days. Aaron's off, mooning over the girl he adores who uses him. Laura's still in jail. Dad's--well, some days are better than others, but I honestly cannot deal with his mercurial mood swings even on the best of days; I can only be cussed out in gibberish for so long before I won't take it anymore. Mom's a shadow of herself; this situation is really hard on her, and I understand that--oh, how I understand that--, but she doesn't stand up for herself anymore. She just... She's submissive, and that is really weird to me. She's the reason I can confront people; everything I do I model from her past actions.
I'm just tired.
I seriously just want to curl up and go to sleep and never awaken again.
The stress is killing me. Literally.
My hair's falling out, I haven't been able to keep food down for a few days, I have a constant pressure headache, and my blood pressure--oh, my blood pressure--
Well, let's put it this way: when I barely stick my finger to take my blood sugar, said finger bleeds and bleeds and bleeds and bleeds for nearly an hour. The reason a diabetic is supposed to stab his or her finger is because it is supposed to stop quickly.
I've also been having nosebleeds, which concern me, but they don't concern my lovely Indian health physician. I honestly just don't think she cares.
I can't go anywhere. I can't do anything. I have no friends who live nearby, really, 'cept Melinda, but I am sure she is tired of my presence in her house; I think it's pretty clear I'm helping out with TNT stuff just because I don't want to be home any longer.
And that's the truth. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be in a house where my parents are not my parents. I don't want to be in a house that's falling apart because I cannot do anything to fix it or simply do not have the resources to do so.
Wah wah.
What a downer I am.