Hang In There!

Just feeling a little down, even after my time in the hammock (Hey, sounds like fun, eh, Gals?!) so it was time to post my pep-talk hamster.

I read voraciously as usual my People magazine for this week, and found the story of the Austrian girl, abducted at 10 that was literally kept in some jack*ss's basement until she escaped at 18. They said that she was remarkably poised for her interviews by all those hip Austrian magazines, but that was probably because she had been the center of attention for 8 years and it was natural and did not feel strange for her. I don't want to focus on some story that reminds me of Buffalo Bill but I can relate to some things about her.

She has to stay in a hospital for the moment while those clinical types try to pick her brain (umm...guess they haven't heard of outpatient therapy there yet, or they are continuing to treat her like a science project cause she'll let them) and she says gets along really well with the anorexics and suicidal types and she assumes that is because of her big ol' ability to be empathetic. It wouldn't be because she's been through an intense, psychiatrically disturbing experience, would it? Cause Lord knows, you wouldn't want to admit to that, even if it was staring you in the face, hunh, now??

I too have been stuck in the middle of those anorexics and suicidal types, along with schizophrenics and actual criminals and found myself getting along with almost all like it was one big lovely psychotic tea party. So I guess I relate. And amongst her other dreams, she'd like to write a book. I'm still stuck on the marketing aspects for my book, and thoughts on non-fiction content (which will blow most people's minds away, and I don't appreciate that anyone but the sickest fringe of our society would really want to read it) or to present in a fiction content, but she's got marketing and content down, I can tell you that.

I guess. She's just sold her story for free.

Hmmm....so I guess I've got something on her after all.

Well, anyway, I'm like the over eater that eats around the main thing she really wants and then finally gives in to it. In this case, the real thing that bothered me was visiting G'ma. It's a drive to get there, I brought the dog and her clean laundry and its just a draining horrible experience. It doesn't help that she leaves in the middle of hanging out with her, just backs up the wheelchair and goes down the hall. If it was anybody else, you'd ask them, "What the h*ll?" but you wouldn't get an answer in this case.

Second real thing that bothered me was issues regarding the clean-up of my Dad's room. Mom took him back home and stayed to clean. If the world was interested and gave prizes for such things, my Dad's room could win him the 'Biggest Hoard and Sh*thole on The Planet' award. I've admitted to Bipolar, I've outed my Dad on here, so it should be no shock that one of us exhibits that weird sometimes rare quality of keeping everything that you have every received in the mail, every book, etc. If you think you've seen bad, think again: no place to sit, no place to be, everything covered with layers of something, in short, it is just unbelievable.

So my Mom takes this on, probably thinking this is his last chance to have someone help him to get it together. And the sad part, she is right. Not one person from the church he apparently must only sporadically attend, not even his landlord who is also his cousin (this does not surprise me as she has proven useless in emergencies in the past), no one in his Writer's Club, a sport and get together he loves, NONE, NO ONE nada is helping. I put the call out, emailing Dad's 'friend' (galpal? 80 year old luv snuggly?) and asked for help. I'm really disallusioned and thinking, well, this is the kind of time that you really find out what people are made of.

They are telling me that I will have to be the one to visit next year, as he can't handle the stress of traveling, going up the stairs, shaving, you name it. That's going to be really difficult since I want nothing to do with the three or so people that pretend to care about my Dad.

All of this is an aside, a mere vacuous passing of Earthly b*tchment compared to the hard stuff I've already gone through. This is just the whining. For all you bipolars out there, you keep on keeping the faith, this hangin' on is for you.