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i'm not doing well with the whole dad thing right now. i don't understand how i can feel so sad and so needing of friendship, but i don't try to talk to anyone - not even my own husband. when i do talk to people i use my ninja emotional skills to completely deflect and not talk about it at all. the only place it does come out is fucking livejournal, which very few people even read anymore. i'm starting to think i may need to go to counseling for the first time since i moved back to kent. i just feel like i can't share this pain with anyone, they don't deserve to have to experience it. i just feel so... rotten, so removed from my own mind... i haven't really talked with my best friends in ages no matter how bad i miss them, i always have an excuse to just... be absent. i feel like everyone close to me just thinks i'm some aloof fuckwad since i'm pursuing this big fancy career now that i've actually got a damn good chance at, but they don't see that i'm burying myself in all of this to just be numb. they just see me not calling, or writing, or texting. they don't see me busting out in tears midway through a paper about clinical ethics, totally unprovoked... they don't see me hiding from my husband so i can go sob uncontrollably after he falls asleep. they don't see me falling to pieces because i have to watch my daddy die a slow, horrible death.
my father has hit on really hard times ever since that whore of an ex-wife of his bled him dry and continues trying to do so. my dad was a millionaire at one time, and she took it all and pissed it away. do you know she hired a lawyer to try to garnish his VA disability benefits? all because she didn't "feel like" getting a job when they threw him out of his own house. then she billed HIM for her legal fees. what the hell kind of person would throw a crippled old man out of the house he provided for them (in the middle of a blizzard actually - i drove down to loudonville in it to rescue him), take everything he owns except two changes of clothes and his meds, then try to take what little income he had left since the business was on the property and she somehow got a restraining order? how can you even remotely justify that? i was reading the court dockets a while back and i saw that when they ordered a psych eval of my little brother she flipped her shit big time, and not shortly after her lawyer petitioned to be relieved of her duties because she felt she could "no longer communicate effectively" with that woman and "could not find just cause to even attempt to garnish combat oriented disability wages." they ended up doing a disillusion since she couldn't get legal representation.
currently, my dad lives in a tiny trailer. when i say trailer, i really mean a glorified camper. this trailer is inside of a giant warehouse/shop that he rents with another guy for his business. this shop's roof leaks like crazy, the other guy leaves toxic chemicals out that create fumes that i've more than a few times had to demand my father stay with us to not have to breathe in (i think the agent orange was enough...). did i mention that this warehouse was on grant street in akron? look up grant street in the akron police blotter if you don't get why this is a horrible thing. i actually bought him this as a father's day present so he could protect himself because his other guns were older than me... he can barely make it up and down the two stairs that lead into the trailer. those are the stairs he fell down when he had to call me for help to get him up off the ground. there's really no real source of heat to this building besides a wood burning stove, and no AC except in his trailer. MS doesn't like the heat, and buildings with tin roofs love to get hot.
he's living in this crap while his ex-whore lives in the amazing $500,000 home he only bought because she demanded it. i recently found out that he was paying almost $4,000 a month so she could live there. after a huge battle i convinced him to let it go. the agreement was, she pays the utilities and half of the property tax - HALF! - and he pays the mortgage and the other half as well as the $700 a month she gets for my half brother from the VA. over two years later she's never switched the utilities out of his name, and hasn't paid a lick of property tax. he estimated that since they split he's paid out over $93,000 for her. this didn't sit well with me, so i convinced him to stop paying the mortgage and try to sell the house. she doesn't deserve to be taken care of by anything except the 12 gauge i bought him.
meanwhile my father doesn't even get a decent hot meal every day. not unless i make him come over here or take him out to dinner. he can barely move sometimes, and gets stuck in bed, literally. his body is quitting out on him and she just keeps trying to take more and more. he's seriously considering bankruptcy since the business is in my name. i think he should - enjoy the last few years of his life and blow his money on whatever the fuck he wants. she's expressed how she's excited for him to die so she can have the rest of what he's got left. i'm going to make sure i have a very high quality camera to record her face when she finds out that *I'M* executor of estate, and he isn't leaving her SHIT. i get to be the one to tell her that too, which will give me great satisfaction. it'll take every bone in my body not to hold her down and shit in her mouth after i tell her, just as punctuation.
i just wish there was more i could do for him. i'm trying to feed him as often as possible, call him whenever i can. i know he's accepted his fate, but i still haven't. i keep thinking if i just do this one thing, or sacrifice this one part of my life, he'll live forever. i know it isn't true, but i can't help but wish it could be.
i just remember the man who used to sweep me up in his arms and toss me in the air and catch me, and now i see this man that can barely hold a pencil. it hurts, it hurts so bad, but i lack the social prowess to even try to seek comfort from my husband and closest friends. i feel like i'm screaming "SOMEONE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD - PLEASE HELP ME!!" and all that comes out is "sup" or some clever quip. like every attempt i make at reaching out comes out as some bubbling drool sliding down my chin and a bouquet of social awkwardness.
it just further exemplifies that i'm no good at anything besides academics and analysis.
my father has hit on really hard times ever since that whore of an ex-wife of his bled him dry and continues trying to do so. my dad was a millionaire at one time, and she took it all and pissed it away. do you know she hired a lawyer to try to garnish his VA disability benefits? all because she didn't "feel like" getting a job when they threw him out of his own house. then she billed HIM for her legal fees. what the hell kind of person would throw a crippled old man out of the house he provided for them (in the middle of a blizzard actually - i drove down to loudonville in it to rescue him), take everything he owns except two changes of clothes and his meds, then try to take what little income he had left since the business was on the property and she somehow got a restraining order? how can you even remotely justify that? i was reading the court dockets a while back and i saw that when they ordered a psych eval of my little brother she flipped her shit big time, and not shortly after her lawyer petitioned to be relieved of her duties because she felt she could "no longer communicate effectively" with that woman and "could not find just cause to even attempt to garnish combat oriented disability wages." they ended up doing a disillusion since she couldn't get legal representation.
currently, my dad lives in a tiny trailer. when i say trailer, i really mean a glorified camper. this trailer is inside of a giant warehouse/shop that he rents with another guy for his business. this shop's roof leaks like crazy, the other guy leaves toxic chemicals out that create fumes that i've more than a few times had to demand my father stay with us to not have to breathe in (i think the agent orange was enough...). did i mention that this warehouse was on grant street in akron? look up grant street in the akron police blotter if you don't get why this is a horrible thing. i actually bought him this as a father's day present so he could protect himself because his other guns were older than me... he can barely make it up and down the two stairs that lead into the trailer. those are the stairs he fell down when he had to call me for help to get him up off the ground. there's really no real source of heat to this building besides a wood burning stove, and no AC except in his trailer. MS doesn't like the heat, and buildings with tin roofs love to get hot.
he's living in this crap while his ex-whore lives in the amazing $500,000 home he only bought because she demanded it. i recently found out that he was paying almost $4,000 a month so she could live there. after a huge battle i convinced him to let it go. the agreement was, she pays the utilities and half of the property tax - HALF! - and he pays the mortgage and the other half as well as the $700 a month she gets for my half brother from the VA. over two years later she's never switched the utilities out of his name, and hasn't paid a lick of property tax. he estimated that since they split he's paid out over $93,000 for her. this didn't sit well with me, so i convinced him to stop paying the mortgage and try to sell the house. she doesn't deserve to be taken care of by anything except the 12 gauge i bought him.
meanwhile my father doesn't even get a decent hot meal every day. not unless i make him come over here or take him out to dinner. he can barely move sometimes, and gets stuck in bed, literally. his body is quitting out on him and she just keeps trying to take more and more. he's seriously considering bankruptcy since the business is in my name. i think he should - enjoy the last few years of his life and blow his money on whatever the fuck he wants. she's expressed how she's excited for him to die so she can have the rest of what he's got left. i'm going to make sure i have a very high quality camera to record her face when she finds out that *I'M* executor of estate, and he isn't leaving her SHIT. i get to be the one to tell her that too, which will give me great satisfaction. it'll take every bone in my body not to hold her down and shit in her mouth after i tell her, just as punctuation.
i just wish there was more i could do for him. i'm trying to feed him as often as possible, call him whenever i can. i know he's accepted his fate, but i still haven't. i keep thinking if i just do this one thing, or sacrifice this one part of my life, he'll live forever. i know it isn't true, but i can't help but wish it could be.
i just remember the man who used to sweep me up in his arms and toss me in the air and catch me, and now i see this man that can barely hold a pencil. it hurts, it hurts so bad, but i lack the social prowess to even try to seek comfort from my husband and closest friends. i feel like i'm screaming "SOMEONE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD - PLEASE HELP ME!!" and all that comes out is "sup" or some clever quip. like every attempt i make at reaching out comes out as some bubbling drool sliding down my chin and a bouquet of social awkwardness.
it just further exemplifies that i'm no good at anything besides academics and analysis.