So this morning I was already upset and about to have a breakdown from how stressed out and exhausted I was and only getting 4 hours of sleep last night because of insomnia. In respones to this:

CrushedCrowd wrote:you're the really force of nature, I imagine what it feels like having all that health issues and still you have to take care of eevee, your pets and do your commissions

I posted:


Shayla06 wrote:This. This makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Someone noticed how I feel. *hug* My therapist was happily and thankfully surprised that I was able to keep going sheerly out of determination. You have no idea how much every morning I just want to not get out of bed... to relax... to just have one freaking day to myself to do nothing... But I don't get that. I have a baby I am almost solely responsible for. Ragnar is gone all day at work, and I'm left to watch her, feed her, change her, play with her, and take her to her appointments or with me to mine. My calendar this month has 13 appointments on it so far and more to be added, probably to 15 or 16. That means half the days this month I will have to drive Ragnar to work at 9am (meaning wake Eevee up early, get her dressed and fed, walk and feed the dogs, feed our parrot and make sure her water is clean, and -hopefully- eat breakfast so I can even take my painkiller AFTER all that), drop him off, get back home, try to get some work done (ie, commissions, dishes, laundry, etc.) while Eevee is playing or watching a movie, make sure Eevee gets her sippy cup of milk and takes her nap at or around 11, take me/her to my/her appointment (I schedule them all after naptime for a reason), get home from said appointment (all of mine are an hour away!), get Eevee changed, fed lunch, some play time, sippy cup, and to her second nap by 4, try to get some more work done around the house or on commissions until she wakes up at 5:30-6, change another diaper, play until 6:30, get her cleaned up and ready to go, pick up Rangar by 7, either go pick up dinner (which we can't afford) or get home, walk the dogs again, make or let Ragnar make dinner, feed us and Eevee, -on a great day- give Eevee a bath, get Eevee her last sippy cup, lay her down to sleep, spend a few moments of quality time with Ragnar if possible, and then go to bed at a reasonable time. Last night we got to bed at 11, I couldn't sleep, and I ended up staying up until 3am. X.=.x This is my average day. I do all this while hurting constantly, more so when I move, stand, bend over, or sit still too long. Meanwhile, my brain is constantly working against me bringing up the worst possible outcome for everything and telling me I should just give up and stop moving and that everyone that isn't someone I trust completely is trying to kill me and/or judging every action I do. I'm terrified every time I leave my apartment, particularly without Ragnar with me. I am constantly fighting and bouncing between severe depression and terrible anxiety and panic attack problems. Meanwhile, standing makes me dizzy, nauseous, and swell. This is my day.

I feel like I should post this as its own journal. */end rant*

Then after all that this morning... I get a phone call from an unknown number.

This unknown number happens to be a nurse at Baptist Hospital calling me. My father told me he was getting an ultrasound of his gallbladder done today because they thought he might have gallstones. The nurse said he could not drive home and he needed me to come pick him up. I wasn't expecting this since an ultrasound does not require anesthesia. I had JUST gotten Eevee to sleep and she had an appointment in two hours. I was not prepared at all to go pick Dad up and didn't really have the time, but he doesn't have anyone else who would do it. He has run away all his other friends with his "charming" personality save one who will visit rarely.

So I called Dad and asked why it was he needed a ride from an ultrasound appointment. He hadn't been sedated. He told me that they found he did, in fact, have gallstones and that he also had spots on his liver. These spots are probably cancer, and he goes back this afternoon to get them tested via CAT Scan. The reason they did not want him driving home was because the liver damage was causing him to lose coordination and memory. Much to my protest, he said he was fine and that he would drive himself. After all, he drove himself there. The doctors did not just not want him driving home. They don't want him driving PERIOD. So after finally being able to pull myself away from Dad and start to tell him "No" once in a while, now I'm going to get roped into driving him EVERYWHERE. He lives 30 minutes away. At least his one friend agreed to take him to his CAT Scan today. X.=.x

As an added bonus, I sent a message to my three siblings saying what was up. I'm the only one here in Oklahoma. One lives in Pennsylvania, the other two live in Georgia. I asked them for help. I know one is poorer than I am (she's literally being kicked out on the street as soon as the bank decides to send someone there and her boyfriend who was paying the bills other than her house payment just got put in jail because he couldn't afford to pay his due child support.). I don't expect her to be able to do anything. Of the other two, one is pretty well-to-do and does photography from home, the other is retired and outright rich (retired psychiatrist). I asked them for help, and only the photographer answered with a "What can I do?" ... Um... Fucking help? Call him? God forbid you drop your not-busy schedule full of vacationing on islands and fucking beaches to come visit your own father.

I'm done. I can't handle this crap. I'm having a panic attack and now I have to go out in public - which I already hate - and take my daughter to her physical therapy. When I get home, she's going to eat, take a nap, and I'm probably going to go have a nervous breakdown somewhere and attempt to chew my own arm off...