Adrift in this sea called life

via Daily Prompt: Adrift

Today the storm has swelled. I am overwhelmed with the very thought of taking care of my family, my husband in particular. With tears in my eyes, I’ve watched him struggle all day. The dementia washes over him deeply today and he doesn’t understand what’s going on. It’s like he’s adrift at sea, tossed by the thoughts that have no rhyme or reason. Where will he land? Will tomorrow see the storm calmed? I can see him drowning and there’s no life preserver in sight. I’m losing him and there’s nothing I can do.

He asked when middle son had to leave for prom. Middle son is homeschooled. There is no prom. He is so lost and I don’t know what I can do to help him. He asks when eldest is getting home as he takes the 2 hour old dinner from the microwave and starts to toss it in the trash because he thinks it’s left over from last night. Eldest is in her room, talking to middle and hasn’t left the house all day. It’s 8 P.M. He thinks it’s morning. He doesn’t realise it’s the youngest child’s dinner, keeping warm till he awakens from his slumber.

I try to get him to go back to the bed he’s lain in all day. He argues and fusses that he’s not tired. He stumbles from the kitchen as I make him scrambled eggs and hash browns with a bit of bacon chopped up in it. I give him his plate and he spills half on the floor.  He tries to clean it up but the dogs beat him to it. They have grown accustomed to cleaning up after him I think.

I wonder, briefly, if he’s had a stroke as I watch him eat. He chokes, momentarily, on the food and my breath catches. Will I have to put him in the hospital again with aspiration pneumonia or should I just let him go? I have to walk away, feigning a bathroom break, so I can allow the tears to stream freely down my cheeks for a few minutes. Waves of grief wash over me as I’m tossed about, emotionally, like driftwood in a hurricane.

I’m adrift on the sea of emotion. Alone in my torment. I have noone to talk to. The one person I had to talk to is adrift in a different part of the storm. Lost to me. Drowning.



Resolutions Forgotten!

I really forgot to write any resolutions yesterday! For 40 years I’ve written them, religiously, and broken them by my birthday. I guess I’ve decided to just skip the middle man and leave them unbroken.

I’m looking toward the new year with optimism and trepidation. I’m afraid of the future yet eagerly embrace whatever comes my way (as long as it’s good. That other shit can stay behind!)

I don’t remember what I was doing last year on the First. MAybe it’s better that way. There’s been so many things the past year that I’ve done and forgotten about. I know that the stress ongoing around here is a major contributor.


You know, I’ve been thinking about the call I got from the police a few days ago and the more I think about it, the more worried I am. What if they ARE trying to pull a fast one and get me on false reporting? Is there a statute of limitations? Could it be that they finally ran the DNA sample they took and found a match? Fingerprints actually bring up anything? So many questions… and it’s brought back the panic attacks. I’m not even sure I want to go through all that again. Shit I’ve only in the past year been able to leave my house alone.

I have to go to work next week and I’m dreading that. Not because I dislike my job but because I might be dealing with flashbacks or something. Jesus, I’m a basket case. I think I’ll be calling my therapist on Monday…

What do you think, should I get a lawyers opinion before I go?


Cold Cases (or NOW they believe me!)

This morning, I received a phone call that was 12 years in the making. It was from the local police station.

In 2002 I was a young woman, with a very young child and a fiance. We were in the process of selling his condo and looking forward to a new life together as a family.

One day, while my future husband was at work, I was cleaning the condo. There was going to be an open house in two days and everything had to be perfect.

It was a warm, spring day and I had opened the doors and windows and was running the vacuum cleaner when I felt a hand cover my mouth. For the next hour, the man raped me while my son was locked out on the balcony.


I honestly don’t remember what happened after he left except that I had an immense amount of pain between my legs. I vaguely remember the police and the ambulance ride to the hospital. They did a rape kit and I went home.

Two days later, I went to the police station where I was accused of lying about the attack. I was berated and badgered till I recanted my story. Then, they took my son away and sent him to another state to live with his father.


I went through hell with this. I put myself into the mental ward because I was so confused about everything. Were they right? Did I dream it all? Was I CRAZY?!? I went through 12 YEARS of doubting myself, therapy and nightmares.

This morning was the detective calling. They have “new information” in the case and want me to come talk to them again. I have my reservations. I just pray that he hasn’t hurt someone else and that the police could have gotten this guy off the streets if they hadn’t been so insistent on victim blaming that they missed something of major importance.


I hope my youngest never finds out but…. They might have to do a DNA test….

Feeling a bit lost today..

Today, the day after we celebrated Christmas, I was told about my Jewish lineage.

To say I was stunned would be an understatement.

All my life, I thought I was just Irish and Indian but, it turns out that there is German blood in there as well. Jewish German blood.

My mother spoke to me about my lineage today and told me stories about my grandmother and HER mothers escape from Germany right before the Holocaust. I didn’t ask but wondered why she waited to tell me. I’m 46 years old for crying out loud!

Now I have to wonder what else I’ve not been told that I SHOULD have been told…

Totally confused about Racism

OK, so I volunteer at the local food bank every Thursday (when there’s no Dr appts) and today was surreal.

I was working the bread section and hustling my ass off when an elderly lady of color came up and asked if we had a specific item. I told her I’d see what we had. When I brought it back to her, she squinted at me and frowned. Then she asked me what a white woman was doin in HER food bank. I told her I was helping out.

The woman went NUTS, ranting about how black folk don’t be needin no racist ass honkey bitch helping her. She was yelling about white privilege and how we white folks should stay to ourselves and leave them alone. She was, by the time they got her moved out, screaming about all us white sluts wanting to sleep with their men…

I was in tears by the time she left. I’ve always tried to stand up for EVERYONE, regardless of color, religion or disability. I yell at my friends and family if they discriminate blacks, use the N word, talk shit about my black friends. Then here comes a woman, who I’ve NEVER seen before and yells at me about me being racist SOLELY on the premise that I’m white. What the fuck?

I am completely confused about how someone can be so hateful to someone just because they are a different color. I wish SOMEONE could explain. I honestly don’t understand.

Especially when I was talking about helping at the food bank, not because a bunch of black people go there but because it’s where I get a lot of MY food…. I was helping out the COMMUNITY and my family. Does that make me a racist?????

Migraine, Seizure, Domestic Violence Test

So, yesterday I wasn’t feeling real well. Got out of bed with visual auras at 10AM. For those who don’t know what I’m talking about, let me show you a clip. Mine is called the Fortification Spectrum.

My auras usually last 20 minutes, giving me time to get my meds, lay down and let the meds kick in before the headache is at it’s worst. Yesterday, it lasted 5 minutes.

I took my meds and laid down in my room, sans noise, light or ANY electronics. I shut EVERYTHING off. Then I fell asleep by 10:45 (this after sleeping 15 hours day/night before.

At 5 I woke up, head still hurting but not as bad. I knew from experience that the headache was on the downhill slide. Husband comes in and says the boys found me on the floor around 12:00, head beside the desk, feet in the bathroom. I was unresponsive for round 30 seconds and weak, stumbling and incoherent while the three of them got me to the bed.

Not sure if it was a seizure but it FEELS like I had one. I’m tired.. no, EXHAUSTED and sore. Not Fibro sore, more like grand mal sore. I think I might have sprained or broken my pinkie too… The knuckle is painful and swollen.

Husband cancelled youngests appointment to his dr so I would be able to rest. Unfortunately that means we have to start his treatments all over again on the 19th. *sigh* Husband COULDN’T take son to the drs. He had to go across town to pick his motorcycle up from the shop….

Priorities, right?

My doctor asked why I didn’t go to the ER. I told him that, by the time I woke up, everything was done. He wants me to get an MRI on my head to make sure it wasn’t a stroke.

Can’t WAIT to tell husband THAT wonderful bit of news…

I’ve been doing some research on something and have come to understand, I think, what’s wrong with my husband. Something called Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

I also did one of those mini quizzes… Scored an 18

If you scored… Then…
11 & up
6 – 10
0 – 5
Domestic abuse is likely
Domestic abuse is possible
Domestic abuse is unlikely

You are the victim of emotional abuse if your partner:

  • Repeatedly gives you destructive criticism, verbal threats and browbeating.
  • Always claims to be right.
  • Excludes you from making decisions and claims to be the head of the household.
  • Abuses your trust by lying, hiding important information and papers, cheating or being inappropriately jealous.
  • Minimizes or denies abusive behavior.
  • Constantly shows disrespect, puts you down or embarrasses you in front of others.
  • Harasses you by following you or checking up on you.
  • Prevents you from seeing your relatives or friends or insists on going everywhere with you.
  • Monitors your phone calls.

You are a victim of physical abuse if your partner:

  • Intimidates you through angry or threatening gestures.
  • Destroys your belongings or household items.
  • Coerces you to have sex or perform sexual acts against your will.
  • Kicks, bites, stabs, pushes, burns or chokes you.
  • Uses weapons to threaten or harm you or others you love.

Yeah…. so… I’m definitely at a crossroads in my life right now.

Oh and the washing machine issue… it WAS my middle childs fault. He washed a stuffed animal in the washer and it tore open…. Husband has been cocky as hell and on sons ass since we found out.

There will be no living with that man for a few days….

Feeling disappointed and afraid.

My 15 year old and I have been donating time every Thursday, at the food bank. Doing a bit for community and ourselves as well. Been doing this three months now.

Today was my sons last day. He will not be allowed back.

The reason he has been banned is heartbreaking to me. I’m not sure how to deal with it and the response from my husband. Frankly, I’m surprised my son isn’t in the hospital.

My son likes collecting knives, has for a few years now. He usually carries a penknife on him all the time, no big deal. Today it turned into a big deal. He pulled it on another person working at the facility and said “I know where at least seven vital spots are.”

I didn’t see it happen because I was across the building. The supervisor came to me and asked to see me in the directors office and I KNEW that my son was in trouble. Just a gut feeling.

When I was told, my initial reaction was anger. They said he would have to leave and not return. I agreed. I called his Godfather to come get him, sent him out to the stop sign by the road to wait. I went back to work but was so upset I had to take a break.

I called my husband and told him, so he wouldn’t get hit with a worrisome surprise when my son got there without me. I told him that he was not to strike my son and gave him strict instructions about what my son was to do when he got home.

I find myself blaming myself for this. What did I do wrong in his raising? How could I have prevented it? What the HELL am I going to do?

Monday morning I’m taking him in for evaluation at the mental health facility. I’m giving him the weekend to think about what he did and try to come up with a reason. Not the “I was joking” excuse he used but a REAL reason.

I’m scared, honestly. This is a road I’ve not been down before. The director of the facility said I should send him to public school. Like THAT’S going to help….