My Seemly Brain Talents

It's been hectic around here. Dad is slowly getting his strength back, and this medical scare has softened his attitude. It takes a near death experience for him to appreciate everything and everyone.

I've been on spring break this past week, but it was a pretty sucky one, until Thursday when I saw Thespian Man on campus for costume design work. Things moved really fast between us that day, and it got awkward. We were supposed to see each other today, but our schedules didn't match. We most definitely need to talk about our "status."

Tomorrow begins classes again. I'm half glad for that.

For a quick update, Dad came home today. We have three breathing-related machines for him now, on rental, which we know will be covered this month for his share-of-cost insurance, but we don't know what April will bring. I'm so very tired and exhausted, more emotionally than physically. Needless to say, the topic of moving is the main emotional drain right now.

Updates are going to still be sporadic.

I do not have time to update. Dad was taken to the ER on Wednesday. He had congenital heart failure. I'll update, hopefully, more over the weekend.

My voice is raspy and starting to go. I'm kind of glad for that, as it means I don't have to talk to Dad. Very mature, I know. He wants me to take him to the hospital on Friday or Saturday, and I have rehearsals all days, and he says to drop them. Is it heartless of me not to take him? Neighbors have offered, there's non-emergency hospital transportation. I want to start pulling back with my nursing duties.

Classes went well yesterday, and I went out to lunch with Thespian Man and our other stage manager (I have to think of a nickname for him). Things are going with Thespian Man and myself, and people are always teasing and questioning us. I need to know what is going on!

I have earth science, a drama club meeting, and my improv rehearsal. My voice will be all gone by tonight, I'm sure.

Ugh. I feel horrible. My cold is raging. I barely slept because my throat is so dry that I kept coughing and gagging. Before class I'm stopping at a drug store to get some lozenges and something called "Saliva Replacement." This better get me through the day, as I have lit., directing, meeting with my lit. presentation partner, and then rehearsal.

I'm now conditioning myself not to think too much about these problems, as it's bringing me down too much. I'm not forgetting about it all, but I'm allowing myself to come out of my weepy bedroom and resume life.

My cold is full-blown now, but I'm looking forward to getting out of the house and to the campus to see Thespian Man and the rest of the theatre group. I get my science midterm back today. I'm not looking forward to that at all.

It doesn't end.

Last evening I found out that Dad stopped taking his antidepressants (we were able to get a cheap generic form from the pharmacy). He stopped taking them a week ago. He said he felt better without them, and I nearly choked on my dinner. He stopped taking them a day before I left for my theatre convention. He said they were making him tired and that he was having hallucinations with them (he's taken to talking in his sleep and awaking violently - this is still happening, but to a lesser extent).

I don't want him making ANY decisions without his meds, but he is refusing to go back on them. This explains his violent outbursts. I'm at my wits end. I have no idea what to do.

I feel very ill at ease. I feel this isn't my home anymore. I feel that any minute, I will be uprooted. I feel like a stranger in a building. I don't like being here. I don't feel comfortable. I feel like I have to get moving now.

If we are to move, I hope it's in a year. That'll give me time to work at a job and find an apartment that accepts dogs. I'd only take one class and do one show so I can work more hours. If it's less than a year, I'm putting my stuff in storage and hoping a friend will let me stay with them and I'll pay them a stipend, but I have no idea what I'll do with the dogs if this senior facility doesn't allow dogs. These are my makeshift plans.

I've never felt so insecure before. With all its ups and downs, I still knew where my life was headed. Now, I don't know.

Last night I spoke with Thespian Man online, and it lightened my heart for the two hours we spoke. I didn't feel like unloading my newly acquired problems to him over the internet.

I'm still sick, and I have no voice. But, I have a lot to say.

Yesterday, Mother-dear was taking a nap. I was in the living room working on my directing homework (blocking out a short scene for my midterm), and Dad was watching TV. He starts to talk to me about his health, which led to the topic of foreclosure, and then to the selling our house and moving.

Needless to say, I was in shock.

He wants to sell this house and move to a senior living facility, where the average age is 75/80, where there's only one bedroom and no dogs allowed.

Needless to say, I was in shock.

Apparently, he and Mother-dear have been talking about this for six months, and never told me. NEVER TOLD ME. I have a right to know, damn it, as I run this household and make nearly all of the decisions. Yes, moving is more their decision, but I have a right to be a part of this life-altering decision.

I am not happy about moving, period. But, to a senior living facility, where there's no guarantee it'll be cheaper then where we live now? Just because an old neighbor is living there now and has "an in" doesn't make it a good decision. Plus, it's one bedroom, no dogs, and allows only one car.

I told him flat out I would not be moving there, and he asked where I'd go, and I said I'd find someplace. He then began badgering me, and I told him I have too much going to think about this right now, and he began screaming at me. He told me that my theatre, plays, and school were all toys and not reality, and I have a right to serve this family and that he thought I would be more mature. [Excuse me for not taking this news with a big smile. I've been mature beyond my years, so I have a right to want to cry like a baby right now.] He says he's the head of the household, and what he says goes, as he has to look out for the family.

After I got over the creepy sense that this was The Godfather, I left the room, and nearly slept the day away, both from being sick and from what had happened.

He left and didn't come home for dinner, so Mother-dear and I ate, and I brought the subject up with her, and she said he wasn't supposed to talk about it without her, so that made me angry because she knew about it and never told me. She doesn't want to move there, either, but mainly for the no-dog rules. I told her I would not be moving there with them.

Last night, I began making decisions. Regardless of whether we move or not, I'm looking for a part-time job when this semester is over, looking into a savings account for the money I've been saving for nearly five years, and I began apartment browsing last night online, to see the prices of rental and whatnot.

Dad and I are barely speaking, only on necessity terms, "Good morning," and such. Mother-dear and I are forced right now, as well. I have no respect for Dad. He lost his job, and for a year he didn't even bother to look for work, because he was so sure his boss would ask him back, even after someone was hired. Dad just refinanced over and over again until a bank wouldn't even pick up the phone when he called. Then he hoped his lawsuit would come through for us, but after three lawyers, nothing came of that. Then, he let himself get sick, not taking care of his health, forcing him to not work. I couldn't work, because they'd lose their medical insurance, which they ended up losing anyway. How dare he expect me to follow him to the depths of the earth when he's let us down at the beginning.

I'm angry because just as I get a shred of happiness in my life, something happens. Why can't I just be happy for a period of time without something at home digging my grave?

I'm scared out of my mind right now.

I'm sick again. Or, rather, my cold never went away, but the sore throat came back, along with the aches and pains. It could have something to do with all I put myself through yesterday with classes and rehearsal, getting stuck int he rain, and not getting home until 12:30 a.m.

I have much to write about, but I just don't feel up to it. I have no class or rehearsal today. This is my first weekday off since January 4th. I'm taking advantage of it by resting and doing some homework.

I'm not feeling good about my science midterm from yesterday. Everything my teacher said to study wasn't on the test, and that really ticks me off. I'm feeling better about the improv rehearsal, though, as I felt we were learning more than the first time, which seemed to be just a bashing session.

I barely saw Thespian Man yesterday, but we spoke online, and he wasn't in a good mood, and it was because it was Valentine's Day. I tired to cheer him up, and ended the conversation saying that I thought of him yesterday, so a girl was thinking of him. Aww....

Today I have lit. and directing. We have cast our short scene, and I'm happy with my leading lady and man, as we will be discussing text work today. After that, rehearsal!