Holy heck man, I have had like the worst six, maybe seven days that I have had in a long, long time, this past week.
It started off on Wednesday morning when I was supposed to have my doctor appointment at 10am.
At 8:10am, I received a totally frantic call from the doctor's nurse, she had a total of 148 patients to call who had been scheduled to be seen on Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, and she had to tell everyone that their appointments were canceled and going to be rescheduled, but right at that moment, she didn't know what day or time they were going to be for, what was going to be done about medications, nothing, she quickly said that my doctor's family had been in a car accident and then *click*.
Um, wha?
What, wait?
I called right back, I was so totally confused, I thought maybe a friend was playing a joke on me because everyone knows that this doc is hard to get into, getting on his schedule is tough, but it wasn't a joke, his nurse explained it again, everyone had to be rescheduled, she didn't have the new schedule yet, a small supply of meds were going to be called in but she didn't know what meds or when they were going to be called in, and she was sorry but she would call me back in an hour.
Then because I was in like a state of shock, I totally forgot to call my friends who were giving me a ride to my appointment, so they showed up, I had to explain it to them, and then the entire rest of the day Wednesday was just call after call from some jerk that I know, we shall give him the initials of Gr., and he must have like gone off of his meds or something, and after the first three calls from him screaming at me over all kinds of crazy stuff, I stopped taking his calls and let all seven more of them for that day, go to voice mail.
One of Gr.'s scream-fests was him blaming me for him losing a $4,000 job and he was going to make me pay for it, he was going to come to my house and make me pay for it, he didn't care how, but oh yeah, I was going to pay.
I had to stop taking his calls after the first three like I said, it was just insane, and no matter what I said to him, no matter how I tried to calm him down, he got more and more irate, and after that third call, I couldn't take it anymore, I sat down and cried, then had a massive anxiety/panic attack, cried some more, and when my cellphone rang and it was Gr. again, I just let it ring until the voice mail picked up.
I let that happen, for like I said, all seven more of his calls that day, for the five he made on Thursday, the five more he made on Friday, the two on Saturday, I got a reprieve on Sunday, and then at 8:20am on Monday morning when Gr. called me again, I let it go to voice mail again.
I simply could not handle being yelled at by him again, I couldn't take it.
I listened to every single one of his voice mail messages, I shouldn't have after listening to just the first couple of them, but I did, and I shouldn't have, because it caused me to be a complete nervous wreck for the entire weekend.
But back to my doctor and Wednesday, they did call in a 3 day supply of all of my medications and a few others that I don't normally take, they said that they gave me those because they would help with the stress and anxiety over having my schedule turned upside down because they know that I have OCD really bad, and they know that having my schedule thrown off can set me off and I'll end up washing the same load of laundry 3 times, or just stand at the kitchen sink and wash the same batch of silverware over and over while having panic attacks and crying uncontrollably.
I finally admitted to this doctor approximately four months ago how severe my OCD was getting, that I was extremely worried about it because I have found myself getting worse with certain issues, and I was finally admitting to a doctor that I needed help with it.
I've been battling my OCD on my own for quite a few years now, I've been ashamed to admit it to my doctors because once you admit that you have it, they start asking you about what sets it off, what makes it worse, how bad the spells can get, etc, and it's embarrassing to admit some of the things that I do because they make me sound like I'm absolutely insane, and ever since learning about my biological mother and her mental health issues, admitting to a doctor, or anyone really, how bad my OCD is in my own words, I have actually questioned myself on whether or not I'm going crazy.
If you're going crazy, do you know that you are?
Do you feel yourself slipping away, or do you just go about your days thinking that everything is just peachy keen?
So yeah, I had a very rough six to seven days dealing with crazy cellphone calls from Gr., dealing with my panic and anxiety attacks, my OCD, and uncontrollable crying fits.
I survived the weekend, obviously, went to my doctor appointment Monday morning at 11:30am, and had my ride just drop me off at my friend N.'s house after I was done, I just wanted to hang with a friend and chill for a bit, and who was there when I walked in?
Gr.!
I immediately ran straight into N.'s bathroom and refused to come out until he left, I had no idea where his head was at or anything but I assume it was still in a bad place because he had called N. several times and told her he was going to her house, she kept telling him no, to not come over, he went over anyway, but N. and her friend T.. finally got him to leave and then the three of us girls just sat down and chilled for a bit, and while out on her lanai having a smoke, (I know, I know) I just started crying again, quietly, at least it wasn't outright bawling like I had been doing all weekend.
Then our other friend D. showed up, we all chatted for a few minutes, and then I had to go home because Sebastian was home from school and when I walked in the door, I learned that he was down sick.
Now both of the teens are sick, some sort of something.
They both have a high fever, headaches, cramps, and the diars, one has a stuffy nose, and the other has a cough, so what it is, I haven't the slightest clue.
So on Monday night, a friend drove me to the store at around almost closing time, and I picked up both Nyquil and Pepto, I have plenty of Tylenol at home, all bases for whatever it is, are covered. haha
Laugh or cry, laugh or cry, I'm choosing to laugh.
So then this friend asked if the teens wanted to make some money today, Tuesday, if they felt better in the morning.
I told her to call me in the morning and ask me before she drove all of the way here because I let Sebastian stay home from school, he was wicked sick on Monday night, way high fever, wicked cramps, he went to bed as soon as I got home from the store and she went home.
Well, instead of calling me in the morning, (Tuesday morning) she just knocked on my door at 9:51am and asked if they were ready to go.
I said no, they're still sleeping, they're really sick, I told you to call me before coming, why didn't you call, I coulda saved you the trip?
Well, I don't know what kind of issue she was having, we'll call her B., but B. seemed to think that sick or not, my two sons were able bodied and capable of working, so why wasn't I making them get up and go earn their own video game money instead of me buying them every game that they want every single time they want a new one?
B. proceeded to go into Sebastian's room and yell his name, I yelled at her to get out of there, don't wake him up, he's sick, she then did the same to Mark, walking right in his room and calling out his name loudly and telling him to get up.
I yelled at her to get the hell outta his room, don't wake him up either, he's sick as well, caught whatever Sebastian had on Monday night, and so then she went out and slammed my front door.
OK. Ok. Ok.
NOT OK!
I tell the boys to relax, it's OK, go back to sleep, I got this, and I went outside to find her cleaning out the back seat of her car, organizing it so that the teens can sit back there so she can drive them to do this yard work for three hours at $10 per hour, they were each going to make $30, she said, so they better be getting up and ready to go, they should have been ready by the time she got here.
I said; "B. FIRST, you were supposed to call me in the morning and ask if they were A) going to be OK to do it because you knew last night that Sebastian was sick, and B) if they even wanted to do it. And NO, they are not OK, they are both sick now, not just Sebastian, but Mark's got it now too, they both have really high fevers and stomach issues, so no, they won't be doing anything today but resting in bed or on the couches to lay down and watch tv and try to rest up from whatever this is."
Without missing a beat, she says to me, "Damn, your are white, while they're working, we can kick back in the recliner chairs and get some sun, I've got some really great tanning lotions that will get you some color really quick today."
"B.", I said; "They are NOT working today, it's a sick day for Sebastian from school, he's very sick, and now so is Mark, they both have it, they aren't working today, they are sleeping and resting today."
She then starts screaming at me in my carport really loud, about how I'm way too soft on them, that they need to get their asses up outta those beds, get some clothes on, and get to work, they needed to be earning their own money instead of sponging off of me.
B. is yelling at me that I've raised a couple of soft boys, not men, they are gonna be "pansies" when they grow up because I've never made them do actual work, that her kids do what she says when she says to, she doesn't have any freeloading pansy kids living under her roof, and if I was too afraid of my own kids to go back in the house and yank their blankets off of them and make them get up and do some work, then she'd do it, and she started walking toward my front door.
I. LOST. IT.
That was it.
The absolute last thing that I could possibly take.
All of the stress, panic, crying fits, anxiety attacks, fear, worry, and every single other emotion and issue that I had been dealing with since Wednesday the 13th, came BOILING up and out of me like Mt. Vesuvius on Pompeii, and I exploded on her before she could even reach her hand to the doorknob.
I started screaming that my sons were not "pansies', that they are quite incredible young men for having been raised by just me for 17 years, and the last six of those, as a legally disabled mother, who after having surgery, needed help doing even the most basic tasks for myself, and just who did she think did all of those things for me?!
My sons helped me get dressed, they helped me in and out of the bathroom, they helped me clean myself, brush my teeth and hair, put on deodorant, helped me in and out of my back brace and bed, the shower, every single one of my personal needs for the first several months after EACH of my surgeries, my sons are the ones who did it, they did all of it.
Not only did they do all of that, but they did all of the grocery shopping, the laundry, the dishes, the bill paying, the house cleaning, every single thing that needed to be done around this house that I normally did, they did it all.
AND NOT ONLY THAT!
BUT!
Sebastian is currently being recruited by TWO different art colleges so that he can do his dream career of digital and game design, and Mark is going to take the test and apply for the job of dispatcher so that he can start working on his dream career of working in law enforcement like he's wanted to do since he was three years old.
And as for the video games?!
Um, NO!
I have only bought them new video games on their birthdays or Christmas, and every single other game that they have bought in-between those, they have bought themselves by babysitting for my sister, working a few hours at the corner store when asked, doing odd jobs for other neighbors like keeping an eye on the house behind us when D. went out of town for a week, bringing in his mail, making sure the house was secure etc, all kinds of other odd jobs that the teens did and still do for our neighbors when they get asked.
They also do their weekly chores here, they take out the trash, they clean the cat litter boxes, they make sure the cats have food and water every single day, and they do whatever else I ask of them when I ask it of them.
She said that her kids do what she says when she says to, she just tells them to do stuff, they do it, and if they argue with her, they get punished, and they still do it.
She said that she's the parent, it's her roof, her rules, and that I've let my sons walk all over me because every time that she's been here, they are sitting playing video games when there are dishes needing to be done in the sink, if they were her kids, the video games would be gone until the dishes got done.
I said to her that even though I hate doing dishes, that is my chore, they have their own chores to do, and she argued with me that it doesn't matter if it's my chore or not, if something needs to be done, then the kids should do it, I should tell them once, and then take away whatever they're doing, "lazy game playing", until they get it done, that I'm too soft on them, just way too soft on them.
I blew up again and told her that she had to the count of 10 to get in her car and get off of my property because if she didn't, I don't care how disabled I am, I am not going to stand here on my own property and be told that I'm a bad parent raising irresponsible and lazy sons.
I also told her that NEITHER of my sons have EVER been in trouble with the school or the law, no suspensions, (the kindergarten incident doesn't count because he could read the word PULL) no detentions, they don't drink, smoke, or do drugs like a lot of their peers do, that they aren't out on the streets at night hanging with who the heck knows doing who the heck knows what, I always know where they are and what they are doing at all times, and they are working on their future goals.
Mark graduated from high school, he's GOING to get into his dream career someway, somehow, and Sebastian got his progress report, he received four A's, two B's, and two C's, and again, TWO art colleges are RECRUITING HIM.
And ONLY because she had totally ticked me off and gone there with me and my parenting, I so went there regarding her kids and her parenting.
I said to her, "So your oldest son, he's 20 right? Did he graduate high school or get his GED? Or is he still working on that? And your 18 year old daughter? She dropped out of high school right? Still hasn't gotten her GED? Right? Last time I was at your house and you all were arguing about it again, she said she wasn't sure if she was going to even take the GED test anymore. And what was that she was wearing to go out for the night? If I had an 18 year old daughter who had dropped out of high school and refused to even get her GED, not only would she not be going out, but that negligee that she calls an outfit, would have been thrown on the BBQ grill, she certainly wouldn't be leaving my house looking like that."
She then started screaming at me that I had no respect for her at all, that she simply knows how hard it must be being a single mom, no man around to take control of the teens and teach them to be men and work hard, but she's had a man in her life all of these years, she knows how to deal with boys, make them be men by making them get up even when sick and go to work, earn their keep, and she couldn't believe that I was disrespecting her so bad, she was going to pay them for working but not now, not two lazy teens with a mother who's just teaching them to be even lazier.
And she then asked me how dare I even bring up her kids, that I had no right at all to say those things about her kids, they've had a hard life, that she did the very best that she could with them, it was so beyond wrong of me to even say word one about her parenting, that I'm the one with bad parenting skills not making my sons get up and work, I was too soft on them and you just watch Kat, you just watch, neither of your sons is going to amount to anything at all, they are soft and lazy because of you, pansies because of you.
She kept rambling on and on, and I said "5, 4, 3, you better get that car outta my driveway right now, 2..." and she started up and backed out, zoomed off up the street.
Tuesday is the day that I removed two very toxic people from my life.
Gr. and B.
No more.
