Dear Dad

I feel like I’m growing apart from you for plenty more reasons then what are listed below but I’m sick of it. You are really annoying, you don’t realize what you do or say and how it affects me (a lot like how mom didn’t) you think you can still take control of me the ways you had to before because when I was a retarded child you make me do stuff that I don’t have to like theirs no way around it! You know absolutely nothing about me either.  I swear I could ask you the easiest question like What’s my favorite band and you’d have no clue who it is. For crying out loud I think my twitter followers would know the answer to that one. Even Mom the person I haven’t talked to for about 3 years now would know the answer. My sister the one I have never lived with in my life absolutely positively knows the answers. Jayme knows more about me then you do!  And she’s not in the room right next do me 24/7. I cant talk to you about nothing in my life because you just don’t get it and theres absolutely no one here to support me and be my back bone when I have to face you. The only real strong support I got is 6 hours away from me. Another reason I need out of here. I need to be somewhere where I am supported and not closeted. Is it any wonder why I am so unhappy here. You never talk about the good things in life only the bad things and I’m stuck having to let you vent to me. It’s one thing to vent dad but can you try to see the good in it too.  You never say good job anymore. All you see is the bad. You see the bad in people you see the bad in relationships. I don’t get along with people like you.  You touch me like I’m your girlfriend or something. You put your hands on my legs the way my partner should. You place your hands on my ass. When you do that I am dying inside it freaks me out. It may be done over my clothes buts it’s not any less creepy than if it was Jeff or Michael. Its weirds me out. i just want to push your hands off me but then you'll freak out on me and start screaming if i do that.  Have to live through the pain to avoid more pain i guess. Quite frankly it makes me very suspicious of you. It make me wonder what stuff did you do to me really when I would be drugged  with all my medicine, and unconscious from my diastat. Did you like having to touch my butt and squeeze my butt checks tight. Did you like it. What did you do to me that I have no clue about?

My Sister

This morning I was reading all the blog posts my sister has ever posted from like 2004 -2011. It made me very happy to call her my sister. Back in 2004 my sister lived with me and she showed me this blog she made about my waking up to a bag full of my hair. Ever since that day I have been like I have to find that post again. There has to be more. It took me a couple of years but I found it. It was really mind blowing to read them. All her thoughts and experiences were really insightful. Things that I never knew happened to her and to me. Most of the stuff I don't even remember doing or happening. The things you learn wow! Wow I love the way my sister thinks she blows my mind. She has a style to her. I really like how she was saying that my bad brain was so smart that it began to kill off the good brain.  I don't think I ever realized what this put her though. I think I just trusted doctors to much that it never hit me that I could of died. I love going to hospitals. People actually care about me and honestly want me to be happy. My body and brain gets all tingly in a good way. Kind of like when you listen to a good song and it hits you in all the right spots and you get goosebumps. Reading all her posts made me really think about what I remember and who I remember coming to see me at the hospital.  I remember a time when I woke up to a soaking wet bed and hospital gown  because my IV came apart in the middle of the night (or so I think it was night) and I screamed for my mom. My moms boyfriend would always be there with her. I don't even want to think about him being all alone with me even though i know he was.  Then I remember when my sister sat next to my bed feeding me waffles or pancakes. It was really nice of her to do that while my mom and dad were just talking to each other. Then I remember my dad eating my food up on me. So again the majority of my memories all include her. She talked about this in her post but I remember this very clearly. Her friend Andrew would call us up just to say hi and check up with us. I remember a specific call my sister was standing to the left of my bed and she was on the phone with Andrew. Then she put the phone to my ear and he started talking to me and saying hi. I was probably not capable of having a conversation at least not one that went farther than HI and Bye. I have to wonder why I did not want to hug her though. It seemed kinda strange to me. I must have been on alot of drugs or something cause I don't know why I would not do that. I mean now the only thing I want to do is hug her all the time. I never heard half these things. I secretly think shes the only one who knows this stuff. Theres no way my dad or mom would know this. I wonder if my dad had to do drugs to get through all of this. Of course he did! He didn't stop til I was all better. Personally I think he quit then out of fear that I'd figure him out. I never knew that I was bleeding. Plus I totally forgot about how my eye had swollen to the point that I could barely see out of it.  I don't remember all this pain that she describes me being in. I know that the morphine sent me on some wild rides. I really cherished that yellow bucket that had to be left by the side of my bed. I remember the doctors shooting Tylenol up my IV. I can picture it because I ordered my Grandma Wilma Drink (OJ and white soda) when she came to give me the Tylenol. 

After I came home to my apt. It was very late at night so i had to go to bed.  Something very special happened that night. I was laying in my bed getting ready to sleep my lights were turned off I was under the covers. My sister came in to tuck me in and she knelt down by the side of my bed and said goodnight to me and that she loved me. This sense of safety and calmness rushed over me. I think it was that moment in time that I realized that she cared for me. Never felt such a thing before.

I think I looked cool with my hair half short and half long

Quite frankly I think I looked better here than i did with my hair buzzed off.

                    My sister made this for me when i was in the hospital. i still have it to this day.

She was a teacher at the time when she made this and she would tell me stories how she would talk about me with her class because they all wondered who this picture was for.

So I just have to say that my sister is the best thing that has ever happened to me. Shes better than not having seizures. Shes better than going to Alverno. If Wisconsin were to give Gays equal rights my sister would still be better! Shes just the most amazing thing ever. Shes the one thing that has always been there for me and figured out a way to show she cares even if it was from 1 hour , 6 hours or 30 hours away from me. I love her. Personally I think I knew she was my strength because I brought my USC hippo beanie baby with me to the hospital because she gave it to me. Not to mention I named it Jayme the Hippo. Nothing could possibly top how great it is to have her as my sister. Nothing! I love you Jayme. XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Jayme The Hippo

Parent(s)

What is a parent? Not as in what a parent does and what makes them a good parent rather if you looked at the person or persons that raised you could you without holding back call them your parent? Is it true that you never really know what or how much you learned from your "parents" till your let free. Despite the fact that I am only twenty and have just now started to unlock the chain that I am under that was preventing me from spreading my wings I can honestly say I do not think I have really learned much from my parents (There's that word again!). Maybe once i get out on my own I will discover something I learned but I cant see it it will probably just be a bunch of flashbacks.  If I learned anything from them its stay away from drugs and alcohol. That's probably the only good thing I can think of right now. On the other hand I can think how both my parents influenced the way my emotions work. Its kind of funny that I do not have bipolarism because of them. I mean for a week and a half I would have to hold my emotions in, never show it and hid in my room while every other weekend I would cry and get mad and show my emotions. One of them wonders why I don't smile but I look right at their face and I'm like (to myself) "Well when do you smile?"NEVER! all you teach me is that life's always going to be this crumby so you just have to get used to it. Was that suppose to help me not kill myself or what was the point in telling me that?!?! Then when I was visiting my mom she would never smile either it was just a perfect line on her face. But as for like teaching me values like religion or something like that. There was no such thing. It seems like everything I learned from the people who took turns raising me are all things that they scared into me. like don't do drugs, don't go crazy with alcohol, though they did not teach me anti-Christianity the way they preached it was very scary and overwhelming so I never liked it or enjoyed it. My mom never told me anything that caught my attention or taught me anything. That's probably because when ever I asked her to do something with me it was always "I cant I got a headache", or "I cant that's for your dad to do", "I cant my feet hurt, I cant I'm tired." The only catchy thing I was ever told by my dad that has really stuck with me was something to the effect of  "If you give up now your giving up on all the people you could of helped".I don't think anyone has really taught me to be strong their just people walking around in the world. boring and dull.   I think some of us just call our mom and dad parents because it has been thrown at us for so long but do you really feel that way?  All they are, are people that raised you and for some odd reason won a front row seat to your life. I mean to some extent I was raised by a sex offender, a drunk, a druggie, an enraged hulk and a crazy christian... yay I feel so lucky.!!!........... not! I'm not gonna go calling those people my parents! They are just people. The word "parent" should be totally erased by the American dictionary in my opinion. The only good thing about the word parent really is that it is a gender-free word.