Oops, I Did It Again…

Last week I found myself particularly stressed due to the upcoming week’s events and task lists. I knew my work week would be busy- as it often is- particularly since I was tasked to head up yet another major proposal for my company of which I had an absurdly small timeframe to work with (causing late night hours of frustration; gee, what else is new?) I also knew my writing classes would be starting and thus, I’d be handling the equivalency of a two full-time jobs with both work and class. All of these details my boyfriend knew well in advance, particularly since I found it of the utmost importance to begin bitching about them as far in advance as possible (otherwise known as, as soon as I found out this was all going down in the same WEEK).

The situation escalated on Friday night however, causing a (rare) argument between us. We both have known for about a month that two of his friends were coming into town on business for a full week; however what we did not know was that they were planning on staying WITH US (don’t they put their employees up in hotels? Cheap asses). That night I had found out that my wonderful fucking boyfriend had fully opened up our itsy-bitsy condo to them without talking to me or mentioning to them my schedule and that I would need evenings to myself without feeling as though I should be entertaining guests (Or bringing more rounds of beer. Or taking shots. Or doing whatever.)

However, in my (*ahem* justified) frustration, did I handle the situation right? Of course not. I was immediately irritated beyond all rational reasoning and lashed out at him about his insensitivity to my schedule and time, who in turn became defensive and lashed out right back to me; and thus the cycle began. After a cool down period- which included a strong cocktail, three cigarettes and about two hours- I was able to somewhat explain to him my frustrations more calmly and was able to understand that regardless of our space and situation, he really wanted to be able to have his friends stay with us and OH SO HOW important it was to him. I had to admit though, I did kinda understand. I’ve lived in much larger place before and frankly it was awesome to be able to entertain and have guests or family over to stay with me. It was a luxury I only had a short time and frankly was quite spoiled by.

Needless to say, this week turned out insanely hectic but as I wind down my Friday I figure, well I’m not dead yet. And I’m getting a pedicure tomorrow (oh hell yeah!) But I realize I have some things to work on, one thing in particular. Next time I find myself in the same situation gearing towards an argument, I’d like to work on my initial approach in airing my frustrations. Once I cool down I’m awesome at it but in those first few crucial moments I have no control and can attack in ways that put grizzles to shame. And it’s so easy to end up saying things I don’t really mean, that I end up paying for big time later (I can usually pull it off with either one of the two B’s- beer or a blowjob. But it’s never easy. Or fun.) And thus I find myself facing my one major area of communicating in a relationship that has been my biggest weakness and focal point for growth. Note to self: I really need to work on this.

The Sibling from Hell

For the past couple of decades, my sister has been making my parent’s lives absolute hell. Being a bit older than I am, by about ten years, she was out of the house and gone when I was young (guess it didn’t help she left early to live with dad). Somewhere along the path of her life she fucked up, plain and simple, and no one really understands what went wrong (granted, her and I both have some abuse in our backgrounds from outside the family, but we couldn’t be any different in our adult lives now). Twenty-some-odd years later, she is now a cocaine addict with two children. Sadly, baby’s daddy is no longer in the children’s lives (one could argue whether he ever was given he was her drug dealer for quite some time), she’s damn near killed dad and now she’s making the sixth level of purgatory look like the damn Hilton for my mother.

A couple times a week I’ll get a call from mama, crying and exclaiming the latest news of my sister’s dark deeds. If it’s not quitting her 547,869 job she’s held in the last two years, it’s her eviction from her apartment, how some druggie she’s been running around with stole her car, or worst of all, running off for days or even weeks at a time and leaving the kids home alone to call their grandma crying and wondering what happened to their mom (again). This is simply the present… the past decade alone has consisted of heart attacks and hospitalizations for both parents, a stoke for one, a second mortgage for one and bankruptcy for another (both trying to bail her out of whatever she managed to get herself into at that time), etc, etc, ETC. And to make matters even more miserable, my mother cannot and will not accept the fact that she needs to let my sister go, as dad did only five years ago. Pushing close to being a 40-year-old, my sister has essentially made her bed, and managed to destroy the greater part of both of our parent’s health, well-being, and retirement in the process.

While my mother’s rants often drive me to the point of insanity where I’m pulling my hair out and shoving needles under my eyelids for the fun of it, my concerns are really with my nieces. They’ve had it hard and are entirely too grown up for both of their ages (12 and 9), thanks to living in hellholes and having to take care of their mother as opposed to the opposite. This fact INFURATES me beyond no comprehension. While the rest of us in the family have the opportunity to walk away, to get our own jobs and support ourselves those kids are too young. They’re stuck. I wish I could simply swoop in and snatch the kids up and somehow force my mother to give up her hold on “fixing” my sister’s life in the process.

Now please, don’t get me wrong; I’d love to and be willing to do anything to get my sister into a quality rehab facility- or any other viable option- and see her recover, to be normal, to be able to complete simple tasks such as, yanno, pay her own BILLS. But the facts are, she’s been there and done that for a little over two decades and while I often consider myself an optimist, I’m not so blindly stupid to not be realistic when it’s slapping me right on the face.

This whole situation puts me into a dilemma that I cannot really do much about. For one, I’m states away in southern Cali while they are in Missouri. I can’t even help out on a weekly basis without uprooting my life and moving back home (which is SO NOT GOING TO HAPPEN. There are good reasons I left in the first place!) However while I’m financially better off than many, the cost of living here isn’t cheap and I don’t quite have the financial ability to hire an attorney, drag my sister’s ass into court and fight custody battles (or pay her off, which would cost about the same), then support two young children on my own. Not to mention, that every time I bring the subject up with other family members, friends or the BF they all think I would be absolutely crazy to ever even consider it.

However, I have a daily struggle in me that fights’ for my family. I didn’t make my sister’s decisions nor should I ever have to clean up her messes but those girls are still my nieces who deserve a chance, and I would do anything for them. And if the situation ever arose where they needed a home and neither of my parents could handle taking them for health reasons (not an impossible situation by any means), then I would never, ever let them go to child protective services and then to some family they don’t know. If it came down to it, I’d make the only decision I could EVER live with the rest of my life and of course that would be to take them on myself. Even if it meant my BF might leave me. Even if it meant having a really hard time finding a man willing to share the load, and then have our own kids likely with my nieces still in the house. After all, isn’t that what family is for? Could I ever feel worthy of raising my own family knowing full well I deserted my nieces when they needed family the most?

The situation hasn’t arisen yet of course, but I think about it often- almost daily- and wonder if it’s really only a matter of time. And it sickens me that I’m so far away, helpless in what I can do to assist now as my mother’s health dwindles.