I personally like country cooking...sometimes. It really contains too much butter and grease which at this point makes my stomach upset. It's all like "WTF is that??? We don't know so let's just get it out of your body as fast as possible". FYI It takes the elevator to the basement at lightning speed if you know what I mean.
I wish I could classify the food that my parents fed me growing up. It might be considered country. I don't remember too many meals that we ate. I do remember being forced to eat lima beans, creamed spinach, johnny marzetti (slumgolia?) mackerel patties... and Center Pizza. I can still get down with the BEST pizza on the face of the planet.. EVER. (It also makes me sick)
Every morning I'm bombarded by what my sister calls "redneck frekkin
country pot luck recipes". You know what I'm talking about. The recipes where everything comes from a can, has heavy whipping cream, bacon and cheese in it along with enough calories and sodium for 2 days. THOSE recipes. At this point in my culinary evolution I don't even think they taste that good. I, for one, don't enjoy all my food the same texture, thrown together and baked in a casserole dish. Maybe it's because I really enjoy the experience of cooking. It could also be that I really just watch too much Cooking Channel. I make a mess, get out the 300 spices that I have in my cabinet and make food magic happen. That shit IS magical. To have someone eat your food and love it feels great.
Now I'm not bashing my country friends, I'm country. I'm simply saying that your moms recipes and your grandmas recipes are great.... in moderation. Even Paula Dean learned the error of her ways and her own son has a show devoted SOLELY to fixing the butter and fat laden recipes of his mother into healthier versions. It's 2014. There is NO excuse for eating like shit. The internet is a great tool for finding things that you like and being accountable for what you are eating. I know you thought it was only for Candy crushing or whatever everyone is into now but it's not.
The conversation got struck up about cooking and how my sister and I can take the most complex twelve step, 14 ingredient recipe and have it be amazing but can't manage to make a casserole that your friends RAVED about not look like dog food. That's almost a quote. The reason is that I don't get excited about those things. I get excited when I can make food taste good WITHOUT fat and added shit I don't need. Make friends with your spices friends because they need to be part of your arsenal when it comes to cooking. If you only have table salt - which should be ILLEGAL- and pepper you might have a problem.
I know, I know you REALLY need to try the tatertot casserole... NO YOU DON'T. Eat a fucking potato instead and throw in some cruciferous veggies while you are at it. Those fuckers are tasty if you cook them right.......
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Friday, April 18, 2014
The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree
What a ridiculous saying. It really only should apply to apple trees. Unfortunately it is normally used to describe less than favorable behaviors of a member of someone's family. I personally find that often you do inherit traits of how you were raised but unless you are a total fucking idiot then at some point you realize that you have the ability to get as far away from the tree as possible.
I was going to title this "an open letter to my mother" and that's basically still what it will be. I feel ok posting it because it's about both mental and physical health and I HATE secrets. My whole life everything was a secret. Don't tell. If we don't tell then it isn't real. They tear people up from the inside out. I have enough shit to worry about without keeping secrets.
I'll be hypocritical in saying that we need to live in today because the next few paragraphs I'm going back... way back to childhood. The things that happened in the past are over. They might be great, they might be tragic but when there is an important task at hand we should focus on that.... not the last 20 years. With that being said let's live in the past and think about WHERE people where during those times.
Let's just take a minute to reflect on where, exactly I've been for the last 20 years. Twenty years ago I was 15. In case you don't understand what that means..... it means that I was still depending on my parents to help me become the adult that I needed to be. Call me a bitch but my mom did a less than stellar job on many fronts.
So...... at 15 what was I doing? Several things.... trying to make friends. That was hard since most people knew that my parents were a little crazy. I'm allowed to say that about my family but you better not even let me hear you utter the words. You'll see how crazy I can be. I think that I have the potential to be 100% crazy.... most days I run on about 20%. You're welcome society, you're welcome. One of my friends moms even turned me away after SHE KNEW that my dad had been in a particularly crazy mood that day. I had packed up my bags and asked if I could just stay at their house for a while because I was scared to go home. She said no. Bitch. I know no one wants to get involved in others domestic disputes. I was probably younger than 15.
I was also praying that each day my dad could find the hairbrush or the remote control for fear that he would flip the fuck out and destroy our house like he did when I was about 10 or 11. On the few occasions that my mom left him alone with us this day was really bad. I can't even remember what set him off but he LITERALLY tore the kitchen apart. Cabinet doors, everything in the cabinets piled in a giant heap covering the entire kitchen knee deep. My mom came home, cried and cleaned it up. We BEGGED her to take us to grandmas so that we would be safe. She said she would she even made a video of the damage but later tore the tape up and told us to never mention it. FUCKING REALLY?
At 16 my parents did let me get my drivers license to my surprise. I feel like they TRIED to be parents but they just didn't know how to deal with kids. I wasn't allowed to date and they told me that birth control caused cancer..... Now I'm 34 with a 16 year old son. Math that shit out. I figured that shit out all. on. my. own. That chapter is coming up. I was rebellious. I hated them and probably rightfully so.
At 17... I can't even remember. I worked.... a lot. I realized quickly that working was the way for me to GTFO. I didn't have to be home which meant I didn't have to worry about burning a frozen pizza and having someone freak out like it was the end of the world. I have had a job since the day I turned 16.
Two months before my 18th birthday I got pregnant with my son. I graduated pregnant. I moved out of my house May 7th the day before my 18th birthday. For a while I lived with my baby daddy family but his step dad was disgusting and we eventually got an apartment right after I graduated. When my son was born I had no idea how to be a parent. My mom did help some but I really wanted to limit the amount of time that my son spent with my parents based on my childhood experiences.
I spent the beginning of my 20's fucking my life up in any way you can imagine. I was a terrible parent, I drank, I partied and I had a baby. Sad. I wish I could get those years back with him and appreciate them more but I can't change time. What is the saddest part of all of this is that for the last 20 years I've been learning ON MY OWN how to be an adult. I rarely received help from my family because I didn't ask. I went to college. For the most part I've been pretty self sufficient with a few instances of not so much.
I WANT so bad to realize that they are people and tell myself that it wasn't as bad as I think it was but for some reason lately it's REALLY been on my mind. I think it's my subconscious' way of telling me I need to deal with this shit. My hands are shaking as I'm typing this. I'm not sure if it's because I'm worried about what people will think about me or if they will think I'm nuts for even telling this to the general public. THIS SHIT HAPPEND. I could write an entire super sad book but I won't.
No one lives a perfect life and no one can change the past. I love my parents because they are my parents but sometimes we need to focus on the present. That time is now. I feel like I can hopefully let this go. In an effort to be super hypocritical I've already started a "super awesome childhood memories" blog.
So... my response to where have I been for the last 20 years can be summed up in this paragraph: While my mom allowed my dad to tell me how useless I was, how my shitty mall job would never amount to anything, while my dad choked me on the couch in front of my then toddler son while he CRIED and tried to help me and you STOOD there and did nothing, when you got 2 black eyes from being hit in the face with a fucking bag of candy (I still don't like chocolate to this day) over God knows what, when we got beat with a belt over the dumbest shit, made to stand in the corner forever.... where were you? So for the last 20 years I've been trying to learn all the shit that you were supposed to teach me... like standing up for what I believe in, self respect, confidence, taking care of what's valuable to me and protecting the people that can't protect themselves. So if you ever read this and want to know where I was maybe you should look inward to yourself and wonder where you were.
I hope that my apple, even if it's near the tree, is a good apple (Honeycrisp because those are by far the best apples) regardless of whether the tree is partially rotted or not. I'm a productive member of society, I work and pay taxes, I protect my child, I support him and let him know when he's not on the right path, I love him, I volunteer and I love my friends and would do anything for almost anyone who really needed it. I turned out ok... considering. So don't judge the apple by it's tree.
I was going to title this "an open letter to my mother" and that's basically still what it will be. I feel ok posting it because it's about both mental and physical health and I HATE secrets. My whole life everything was a secret. Don't tell. If we don't tell then it isn't real. They tear people up from the inside out. I have enough shit to worry about without keeping secrets.
I'll be hypocritical in saying that we need to live in today because the next few paragraphs I'm going back... way back to childhood. The things that happened in the past are over. They might be great, they might be tragic but when there is an important task at hand we should focus on that.... not the last 20 years. With that being said let's live in the past and think about WHERE people where during those times.
Let's just take a minute to reflect on where, exactly I've been for the last 20 years. Twenty years ago I was 15. In case you don't understand what that means..... it means that I was still depending on my parents to help me become the adult that I needed to be. Call me a bitch but my mom did a less than stellar job on many fronts.
So...... at 15 what was I doing? Several things.... trying to make friends. That was hard since most people knew that my parents were a little crazy. I'm allowed to say that about my family but you better not even let me hear you utter the words. You'll see how crazy I can be. I think that I have the potential to be 100% crazy.... most days I run on about 20%. You're welcome society, you're welcome. One of my friends moms even turned me away after SHE KNEW that my dad had been in a particularly crazy mood that day. I had packed up my bags and asked if I could just stay at their house for a while because I was scared to go home. She said no. Bitch. I know no one wants to get involved in others domestic disputes. I was probably younger than 15.
I was also praying that each day my dad could find the hairbrush or the remote control for fear that he would flip the fuck out and destroy our house like he did when I was about 10 or 11. On the few occasions that my mom left him alone with us this day was really bad. I can't even remember what set him off but he LITERALLY tore the kitchen apart. Cabinet doors, everything in the cabinets piled in a giant heap covering the entire kitchen knee deep. My mom came home, cried and cleaned it up. We BEGGED her to take us to grandmas so that we would be safe. She said she would she even made a video of the damage but later tore the tape up and told us to never mention it. FUCKING REALLY?
At 16 my parents did let me get my drivers license to my surprise. I feel like they TRIED to be parents but they just didn't know how to deal with kids. I wasn't allowed to date and they told me that birth control caused cancer..... Now I'm 34 with a 16 year old son. Math that shit out. I figured that shit out all. on. my. own. That chapter is coming up. I was rebellious. I hated them and probably rightfully so.
At 17... I can't even remember. I worked.... a lot. I realized quickly that working was the way for me to GTFO. I didn't have to be home which meant I didn't have to worry about burning a frozen pizza and having someone freak out like it was the end of the world. I have had a job since the day I turned 16.
Two months before my 18th birthday I got pregnant with my son. I graduated pregnant. I moved out of my house May 7th the day before my 18th birthday. For a while I lived with my baby daddy family but his step dad was disgusting and we eventually got an apartment right after I graduated. When my son was born I had no idea how to be a parent. My mom did help some but I really wanted to limit the amount of time that my son spent with my parents based on my childhood experiences.
I spent the beginning of my 20's fucking my life up in any way you can imagine. I was a terrible parent, I drank, I partied and I had a baby. Sad. I wish I could get those years back with him and appreciate them more but I can't change time. What is the saddest part of all of this is that for the last 20 years I've been learning ON MY OWN how to be an adult. I rarely received help from my family because I didn't ask. I went to college. For the most part I've been pretty self sufficient with a few instances of not so much.
I WANT so bad to realize that they are people and tell myself that it wasn't as bad as I think it was but for some reason lately it's REALLY been on my mind. I think it's my subconscious' way of telling me I need to deal with this shit. My hands are shaking as I'm typing this. I'm not sure if it's because I'm worried about what people will think about me or if they will think I'm nuts for even telling this to the general public. THIS SHIT HAPPEND. I could write an entire super sad book but I won't.
No one lives a perfect life and no one can change the past. I love my parents because they are my parents but sometimes we need to focus on the present. That time is now. I feel like I can hopefully let this go. In an effort to be super hypocritical I've already started a "super awesome childhood memories" blog.
So... my response to where have I been for the last 20 years can be summed up in this paragraph: While my mom allowed my dad to tell me how useless I was, how my shitty mall job would never amount to anything, while my dad choked me on the couch in front of my then toddler son while he CRIED and tried to help me and you STOOD there and did nothing, when you got 2 black eyes from being hit in the face with a fucking bag of candy (I still don't like chocolate to this day) over God knows what, when we got beat with a belt over the dumbest shit, made to stand in the corner forever.... where were you? So for the last 20 years I've been trying to learn all the shit that you were supposed to teach me... like standing up for what I believe in, self respect, confidence, taking care of what's valuable to me and protecting the people that can't protect themselves. So if you ever read this and want to know where I was maybe you should look inward to yourself and wonder where you were.
I hope that my apple, even if it's near the tree, is a good apple (Honeycrisp because those are by far the best apples) regardless of whether the tree is partially rotted or not. I'm a productive member of society, I work and pay taxes, I protect my child, I support him and let him know when he's not on the right path, I love him, I volunteer and I love my friends and would do anything for almost anyone who really needed it. I turned out ok... considering. So don't judge the apple by it's tree.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
If you buy it you will eat it!
SHIT. Whew glad I got that out first thing. I had these delusions of grandeur that I was strong. I was able to walk past the chips or crackers and not eat them. I realized last week that I'm not. The reason that I'm not eating them is because I'm not keeping them in my house. Sure we have junk like Pringles, cheese, wheat thins..... turns out I'm only immune to those things because I really don't like them much anymore.
I'm considering faking a dairy intolerance so people will stop trying to have lunch with me and offering me food. My sister who IS lactose intolerant (OR IS SHE???) seems to like to throw that out when people are trying to tempt her with fucking delicious shit that isn't good for her. I have pretty much cut out MOST dairy from my diet. I hate milk. It's disgusting and comes from the boob of a cow. I didn't even breast feed my own kid because the thought of it repulsed me. Drinking milk is out of the question. - Side note... my kids is 5'10" and weighs 200lbs.... he did just fine on formula and I need to get some calcium supplements.
I've been caring for a family member. She's OLD. 80. She eats like a garbage disposal. I went into her house and almost went into a diabetic coma by proxy. I've gathered that her diet consists of the following food groups: Fast food, chocolate, potato chips, jello and bacon. That's right folks. The unhealthy apple doesn't fall far from the tree because my mom doesn't eat much better. She's 80 and her back is broken so I figure I'll let her eat whatever she wants. I DARE someone to take my chips out of my hand as an 80 year old woman. I will CUT A BITCH. I don't want to live to see 80 and if that were the case my life is half over. Depressing shit!
I tried to explain to her that I don't eat those foods any more and she doesn't understand. Even as a sick person she wants to take care of people. I'm grown, I can feed myself, I don't need your money and I certainly don't need those fucking delicious nutty bars that I see over there near the caramels, Rollo's and Samoa cookies.....
Just kidding. I FUCKING ATE THEM ALL! I have no will power. This is how it went:
Day 1- WTF is going on here? Why do you have no healthy food? Why can't you move and where is everyone who helps you? (Breakdown occurs)
Day 2 - I got this shit. "You want bacon and eggs, grandma?" 3 pieces for her.... 3 for me... gotta keep it even! I'll feed her whatever she wants and I'll eat this chickpea salad I made.... AAAAND this nutty bar. One won't hurt
Day 3 - FUCK I'm tired. This piece of KFC in her fridge looks all amazing because all I bought was a chicken wrap that I painstakingly made this morning at 5 am so I would have something to eat here so I wouldn't eat the crap at her house. Just kidding you forgot it at work. MMMM CHICKEN
Day 4 - Too lazy to make anything to take. I'll just eat whatever I can find. Translation- Samoa cookies and pizza
Day 5 - JESUS H CHRIST is the junk food multiplying? Where did these fudge cookies come from? Apparently my mom is bringing it in when I'm not there.
Day 6 - Was my day of rest. Someone else in my family went to feed her. I ate pizza... and snacks
Day 7 - Oh it's your birthday and you want to have white cake with icing AND PIZZA? Sure I just had pizza I won't want that. WRONG. I LICKED the icing off the liner and ate directly from the entire cake with a fork. I have no concept of the actual portion size that I ate.... I pretend it was less than it really was and log it in my calorie tracker like a champ. Repeat with the pizza... minus the licking.
Sooooo. For anyone who looks up to me because I'm so inspirational... I'm a hot fucking mess. I did manage to lose 1 lb and I'm not lying about that. The moral of this story is that if you want to live a healthier life like me... just don't keep delicious shit in your house. Keep things in there that you TELL yourself are delicious and that will make do until you are nose to nose with the mother load of delicious crap that you won't allow yourself to buy because you are a weak slave to the processed goodness of a nutty bar.
Forgot to throw this in. Yesterday my boss was convincing me to try this AMAZING "ham salad" that someone in his family made. (It was tasty!) I was certain it had mayonnaise in it- YUCK. I tried it anyway... and could clearly taste bologna. When I asked if it had bologna in it he said yes, he was afraid to tell me because he knew I wouldn't try it. Jokes on you! I LOVE BOLOGNA. THHHEENNN almost as if a sign from God I got these photos from a friend. THIS is why I don't eat bologna. It's me 60lbs heavier and miserable. I'm sitting next to a frog statue which I hate even more than I hate mayonnaise. Frogs are fucking scary!
I'm considering faking a dairy intolerance so people will stop trying to have lunch with me and offering me food. My sister who IS lactose intolerant (OR IS SHE???) seems to like to throw that out when people are trying to tempt her with fucking delicious shit that isn't good for her. I have pretty much cut out MOST dairy from my diet. I hate milk. It's disgusting and comes from the boob of a cow. I didn't even breast feed my own kid because the thought of it repulsed me. Drinking milk is out of the question. - Side note... my kids is 5'10" and weighs 200lbs.... he did just fine on formula and I need to get some calcium supplements.
I've been caring for a family member. She's OLD. 80. She eats like a garbage disposal. I went into her house and almost went into a diabetic coma by proxy. I've gathered that her diet consists of the following food groups: Fast food, chocolate, potato chips, jello and bacon. That's right folks. The unhealthy apple doesn't fall far from the tree because my mom doesn't eat much better. She's 80 and her back is broken so I figure I'll let her eat whatever she wants. I DARE someone to take my chips out of my hand as an 80 year old woman. I will CUT A BITCH. I don't want to live to see 80 and if that were the case my life is half over. Depressing shit!
I tried to explain to her that I don't eat those foods any more and she doesn't understand. Even as a sick person she wants to take care of people. I'm grown, I can feed myself, I don't need your money and I certainly don't need those fucking delicious nutty bars that I see over there near the caramels, Rollo's and Samoa cookies.....
Just kidding. I FUCKING ATE THEM ALL! I have no will power. This is how it went:
Day 1- WTF is going on here? Why do you have no healthy food? Why can't you move and where is everyone who helps you? (Breakdown occurs)
Day 2 - I got this shit. "You want bacon and eggs, grandma?" 3 pieces for her.... 3 for me... gotta keep it even! I'll feed her whatever she wants and I'll eat this chickpea salad I made.... AAAAND this nutty bar. One won't hurt
Day 3 - FUCK I'm tired. This piece of KFC in her fridge looks all amazing because all I bought was a chicken wrap that I painstakingly made this morning at 5 am so I would have something to eat here so I wouldn't eat the crap at her house. Just kidding you forgot it at work. MMMM CHICKEN
Day 4 - Too lazy to make anything to take. I'll just eat whatever I can find. Translation- Samoa cookies and pizza
Day 5 - JESUS H CHRIST is the junk food multiplying? Where did these fudge cookies come from? Apparently my mom is bringing it in when I'm not there.
Day 6 - Was my day of rest. Someone else in my family went to feed her. I ate pizza... and snacks
Day 7 - Oh it's your birthday and you want to have white cake with icing AND PIZZA? Sure I just had pizza I won't want that. WRONG. I LICKED the icing off the liner and ate directly from the entire cake with a fork. I have no concept of the actual portion size that I ate.... I pretend it was less than it really was and log it in my calorie tracker like a champ. Repeat with the pizza... minus the licking.
Sooooo. For anyone who looks up to me because I'm so inspirational... I'm a hot fucking mess. I did manage to lose 1 lb and I'm not lying about that. The moral of this story is that if you want to live a healthier life like me... just don't keep delicious shit in your house. Keep things in there that you TELL yourself are delicious and that will make do until you are nose to nose with the mother load of delicious crap that you won't allow yourself to buy because you are a weak slave to the processed goodness of a nutty bar.
Forgot to throw this in. Yesterday my boss was convincing me to try this AMAZING "ham salad" that someone in his family made. (It was tasty!) I was certain it had mayonnaise in it- YUCK. I tried it anyway... and could clearly taste bologna. When I asked if it had bologna in it he said yes, he was afraid to tell me because he knew I wouldn't try it. Jokes on you! I LOVE BOLOGNA. THHHEENNN almost as if a sign from God I got these photos from a friend. THIS is why I don't eat bologna. It's me 60lbs heavier and miserable. I'm sitting next to a frog statue which I hate even more than I hate mayonnaise. Frogs are fucking scary!
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Breakdown in 3. 2. 1
I haven't written much lately as I haven't been in the mood. I got so concerned taking care of myself and my physical health that I forgot about everyone else in my life and my MENTAL health. I'm feeling pretty crappy. I'm writing this more for myself than anyone else and I probably won't even post that it's up.
My family hasn't been priority for me. I'm not close with my parents due to the incredibly shitty upbringing I had. Don't get me wrong it wasn't all bad but that doesn't make it good either. I turned out kinda ok. I resent my mom for not being as strong as she needed to be to protect and nurture her kids and my dad for being a giant asshole. Not much has changed in 35 years. I have a little better relationship with my parents now but I don't think it's out of forgiveness - I honestly don't think I have the ability in me- it's out of necessity because of my son. I thought I was over it but it turns out I'm not. I keep saying that my dad is a different person and from what I can see he seems to be but it feels like no one can put their own wants aside from the greater good. I don't think that years of therapy can help me heal from that and I don't really want to talk about how shit from my childhood makes me feel anyway. Right now.... I feel miserable.
My grandma has always been there for everyone in our family. She isn't educated, she doesn't drive and she is poor. She loves us with every fiber of her being and as much as I have dreaded this... she's old. I can remember on Saturdays (or maybe it was Sundays) my grandpa would come down in his little red Ford Festiva. We would know he was there because he would always drive past the driveway and then back in on the side where no one ever parked. His car always covered in cigarette tobacco and camel non filter leftovers. Sometimes he would let us clean it and then pay us. He drank coffee and he smelled like old man. He passed away many years ago after a 10+ year go round with Alzheimer's. My grandmother took care of him in their house until he died. He is really the only person that I have been super close with that has passed away.
It was Thanksgiving and I was with my then family. My grandpa had been ill for a long time and was recently moved to a hospital facility. I had planned on going to see him and was so tired from cooking and all of the Thanksgiving things that were going on that I said I would go see him tomorrow. He didn't remember who I was but my family said that day he asked for me. I didn't go and he died that evening. I HATE myself for not going and is a regret that I will take to my grave.
When my son was born, first boy, first great grandchild, my grandma took me and bought anything that I would have needed for him. My family might say that I'm the favorite... or the chosen one. I don't think Mark is held in much less regard. I can't tell you the countless times she bought us food or things that we needed when I was 18 with a baby and making bad choices. She never judged or criticized... she just helped.
Now my grandmother is ill. She can't move about and it's been a year since I've seen her. I didn't go at Christmas. What kind of family member am I? A terrible one. Who do you blame for that, if you were going to place blame? Me? Am I selfish and self centered? Why isn't my own family important enough for me to make time for? I've never been close with my immediate family. They are usually there when I need them but other than that I don't use them as a support system. I'm feeling pretty down on myself and I think I've cried myself to sleep every night for the last 5 days. I can't take back time, if I could there are many things I might do differently. For now I'll just hate myself and hope that I can try to make up for lost time and keep my shit prioritized.
I'm mentally exhausted. I can't make the right choice to save my own life. This is my real life. I have very few secrets and some might say that I put too much out there but it's life. These things happen. I'm a hot mess right now.
My family hasn't been priority for me. I'm not close with my parents due to the incredibly shitty upbringing I had. Don't get me wrong it wasn't all bad but that doesn't make it good either. I turned out kinda ok. I resent my mom for not being as strong as she needed to be to protect and nurture her kids and my dad for being a giant asshole. Not much has changed in 35 years. I have a little better relationship with my parents now but I don't think it's out of forgiveness - I honestly don't think I have the ability in me- it's out of necessity because of my son. I thought I was over it but it turns out I'm not. I keep saying that my dad is a different person and from what I can see he seems to be but it feels like no one can put their own wants aside from the greater good. I don't think that years of therapy can help me heal from that and I don't really want to talk about how shit from my childhood makes me feel anyway. Right now.... I feel miserable.
My grandma has always been there for everyone in our family. She isn't educated, she doesn't drive and she is poor. She loves us with every fiber of her being and as much as I have dreaded this... she's old. I can remember on Saturdays (or maybe it was Sundays) my grandpa would come down in his little red Ford Festiva. We would know he was there because he would always drive past the driveway and then back in on the side where no one ever parked. His car always covered in cigarette tobacco and camel non filter leftovers. Sometimes he would let us clean it and then pay us. He drank coffee and he smelled like old man. He passed away many years ago after a 10+ year go round with Alzheimer's. My grandmother took care of him in their house until he died. He is really the only person that I have been super close with that has passed away.
It was Thanksgiving and I was with my then family. My grandpa had been ill for a long time and was recently moved to a hospital facility. I had planned on going to see him and was so tired from cooking and all of the Thanksgiving things that were going on that I said I would go see him tomorrow. He didn't remember who I was but my family said that day he asked for me. I didn't go and he died that evening. I HATE myself for not going and is a regret that I will take to my grave.
When my son was born, first boy, first great grandchild, my grandma took me and bought anything that I would have needed for him. My family might say that I'm the favorite... or the chosen one. I don't think Mark is held in much less regard. I can't tell you the countless times she bought us food or things that we needed when I was 18 with a baby and making bad choices. She never judged or criticized... she just helped.
Now my grandmother is ill. She can't move about and it's been a year since I've seen her. I didn't go at Christmas. What kind of family member am I? A terrible one. Who do you blame for that, if you were going to place blame? Me? Am I selfish and self centered? Why isn't my own family important enough for me to make time for? I've never been close with my immediate family. They are usually there when I need them but other than that I don't use them as a support system. I'm feeling pretty down on myself and I think I've cried myself to sleep every night for the last 5 days. I can't take back time, if I could there are many things I might do differently. For now I'll just hate myself and hope that I can try to make up for lost time and keep my shit prioritized.
I'm mentally exhausted. I can't make the right choice to save my own life. This is my real life. I have very few secrets and some might say that I put too much out there but it's life. These things happen. I'm a hot mess right now.
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