All About G

The day went by relatively uneventfully, and it was actually going smoothly. Things were looking pretty good. No one had gotten into any fights. Kimmie wasn’t as snappish as she usually is. Nat was over and we had a fun time. And the food was good. And then it just went downhill from there.

Mom accidentally broke her wine glass. It was a wedding gift from 25 years ago. Somethings happened after that, and she ended up going upstairs and crying for several minutes. It’d be hard to describe other than to say it was ironically symbolic.

I watched the scene unfurl with my own eyes, and replayed it in my mind over and over. And the only thing that I could think at the end of it was: there is no hope for salvaging this at all.

She’s doing better now. I feel rather hopeless and indifferent… numb at the moment. More than anything, my head’s been buzzing incessantly and I seem to feel rather enraged at the moment. The buzzing comes and goes whenever I get pissed off or calmed down. I kind of feel like I’m moving along the line to snapping — something that’s never happened to me before. It seems that over the years, my anger’s been building up and building up and now the only left for it to do is overflow.

But that was my Thanksgiving. I suppose that event at the very end could be called a buzz-kill. All I know is, it ruined my semi-good mood.

Comments (0) Nov 27 2009

Here the whole damn time.

I just haven’t been able to get myself to do much of anything. Gotta love those crippling issues.

Anyway, I’m officially on the prowl for a therapist. Yea, I thought I was gonna be the only mentally healthy child of the Baker clan, but I’m suffering from a rather bad bout of depression, not to mention some crap I have to deal with to boot.

It’s not just the high school crap I went through that has been bothering me, I think. That’s a part of it for sure; ever since that Andy!drama back in high school, I can’t get myself to trust new people, even if they are very obviously trustworthy. Infant didn’t help much, Dale kind of didn’t either. It seems Dale only wants to hang out when he expects me to screw him. And so, I haven’t hung out with him in months. But there are some really cool people whom I talk to; like Alyce and Amanda, and Gabby and Kelly. But I can’t really open up like I’d want to. So they’re pseudo-friends as opposed to actual friends. I mean, how can two people be friends if one can’t trust the other? It’s the fundamental backbone of friendship — trust.

The second thing is issues with the family. At the moment, I’m currently not sure if I can divulge, so I won’t, but I guess the best way to put it is this family doesn’t feel like a family, and I suppose any hope of saving that is pretty much gone. We all live together, yes, but there’s no real connection. It just feels like we’re a bunch of people under the same roof, who just to happen to be related to each other. Well, minus Derek, but yea.

The holidays aren’t the same anymore. The only time we actually resemble a loving family would have to be Thanksgiving, and even then, the majority of the day is spent with the men room in their respective rooms on their computers, and Mom cooking Thanksgiving dinner, with the occasional assistance of Kimmie and I (though I plan to help her A LOT more come this year’s turkey day). Natalie is going to be spending her Thanksgiving with us — it’ll be her first ever REAL Thanksgiving meal, the poor child — so maybe it’ll make things a little more fun, but who’s to say?

Christmas might be a little better if they existed in our household. Ever since, oh, I don’t know… when I was 15 or 16, we stopped being able to afford Christmases. For Christ’s sake, we couldn’t even get a tree. Last year we were able to, and that’s only because I was paying for it out of my pocket. It was present to the fam. I might do it again this year because it’s just so depressing without one. The presents last year weren’t from the family; it was a special giveaway thing from Kimmie’s school. So I have the feeling that this year, there will be no tree (unless I get one), there will be no decorating (because I can never seem to get people to help me with decorating around the house — it’s like if there isn’t a tree, then they don’t even care), probably no presents from the parents, I don’t know if I’ll be able to afford presents for the parents, and, as usual, no real family together time.

It’s insanely heartbreaking to watch this happen that way it has. I think that’s the major part of this whole thing. When Millie died, it just triggered the depression, but I have a lot of stuff to get out.

Now if only I could just find an actual therapist.

I haven’t heard any good things about the counselors at the Health center, and well, I wasn’t expecting much, considering one doctor was convinced my once-fractured and still-dislocated coccyx was a cyst (I got x-rays, even though it’s dangerous for my baby making parts, just for the sake of PROVING I WAS RIGHT), and that another doctor thought my deformed clavicle was an overuse injury caused by playing volleyball once a week (turns out there WAS a hairline fracture, like I suspected way back when I first had it, as opposed to a plastic deformation. Hairline fracture makes more sense too). My Personal Essay professor, who frustrates the hell out of me at times, recommended one Susan Compton, who just so happens to not take my GHI insurance. Wonderful. But she told me she’d reach out to colleagues to find someone for me and get back to me. I’m supposed to be expecting a phone call from her today, so *crosses fingers* hope for the best.

… Well that was a lot of depressing stuff. Um, I suppose the only good I can think of is that I’m generally passing my classes, save for one, maybe 2. Though I think in biomechanics I have a C, and I can probably get that up.

Oh, If you haven’t yet, go read the Judgment Day post and review; comments are still open!

Comments (2) Oct 27 2009

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Milli was my cat. Or, should I say, I was her human. One of my earliest memories of her, as well as her six siblings was when she was a few weeks old at most; I was around 2. I lied down on the floor and just watched as the kittens rushed by me, perhaps to get food, perhaps because they saw me there, I don’t remember. But what I do remember, besides little kittens squirming their way through my doll house, was that, of all the kittens we had, I played with Milli the most. I don’t know what it was she saw in me, but whatever it was, it was enough for her to choose me. And from then on, we had a special sort of connection. Whenever I cried or was sad, she’d always be at my side, nuzzling me and comforting me because she somehow knew, she knew that something was wrong. We’d play with my pink feather boa (and with her playing, it didn’t last too long).

She hated being in something that moved when it wasn’t her. She escaped in an elevator and ripped up all the occupants flying up and down the walls. She’d yowl miserably when in the car with us when we were moving upstate. It took her a while to settle in the new, and much bigger house, but like the rest of us, she settled in rather nicely in the end. By that time, she had really picked the family as a whole, her “harem of humans”. She cared about us just as we cared about her.

Her weight flip flopped every now and again, but she was always as perky as ever, defying the odds every time. I mean, once Raphael had died back in, what was it, ‘01?… every year Dad would say “I don’t think she’ll make it through the winter.” And every year, she’d prove him wrong.

I’m not blind; I saw when her age had started catching up to her. She had lost the energy she used to have; no more tearing through the house at break neck speeds, no more playing with randomly pieces of stuffs with or without anyone. She started sleeping a lot more, and she gradually lost weight. I was inwardly concerned; I mean, we fed her a whole can of cat food a day — half in the morning and half at night — and we always make sure to keep her water dish full. But she was so thin. It was one of the reasons why I got so mad at Derek and Mom when they’d punished her for something she did in the kitchen. She was older than the rest of us; couldn’t you be a little gentler with informing her that she wasn’t supposed to do this and that? I had no problem with gently pushing her off the table or herding her away from food.

She lived 17, 18 years, and yes, that’s a long time for a cat. What hurts me the most was that she was my cat; she picked me first, and I wasn’t even there to say goodbye to her as she took her last breath.

Milli: I love you and I’ll miss you so much.

Comments (0) Sep 16 2009

Hey all!

I was telling myself that I was going to update this today, and of course, I forget about it until the last minute. Quite typical of me, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m going to give you little updates on what’s been going on.

While there have been some good parts and bad parts since coming home, I think it’s safe to say, I’m quite content with the way things are. I came home, had to skip open volleyball the day I came back (just so that I give my tail bone SOME TIME to heal before I get back into the swing of things), but everyone was nice and they all said hi and we all caught up on things.

Steve Walker, you remember him, right? Yes, he’s still alive. He’s actually back in NY for a brief vacation before they ship him overseas next year (which sucks major ass if you ask me). He was so kind as to stop by to confirm his existence and remind me that yes, he’s a human being and no, he hadn’t turned into another Hologram Man that can only communicate with a cell phone and the internet (Only certain people will get this joke). He beat me up (not literally), as usual, and headed back to his house out in the middle of nowhere. It was good to see him again. Honestly it feels like ages since the last time I actually saw him. It was, what, summer after graduation… like… over a year ago? In some ways he’s changed a whole lot, but in other ways he hasn’t changed at all. Not that change is bad, but it’s good to know that he’s still the retard…. I mean, cool guy that he was back in high school

And the couple of days leading up to today were awesome. We actually got a Christmas tree; a cute little tree that fits nicely in a corner of the dining room. And I think it was from that moment — because earlier in the week Kimmie and I, with the assistance of Kasedy put up lights in the living room and it still didn’t feel quite complete, if you know what I mean — that it felt like we were gonna have a good Christmas. I mean, I can’t remember the last time we had a tree before this year, and the past couple of years we didn’t get any presents at all; we were still hurting from the flood in ‘06. And we still are hurting now. But I think those of us who worry about it were able to set it aside for at least a day so we could truly enjoy this holiday.

And for those who gave to us, and for just the way things turned out, I’m ridiculously thankful. I’ve always felt that, as a family, everyone was kind of drifting apart. The adults besides me had stopped sitting at the table with us, we never do anything that would bring everyone together, like a movie or a game night. Dad grows ever more aloof and it’s still ridiculously hard to talk to the guy. Mom suffers too, though she hides it so no one can really help her either. And Derek doesn’t really interact with us like he used to either; like Dad… and Ricky, and David, he spends approximately his whole life on the computer. Mom and Kimmie aren’t as bad, but still, the majority of their days is spent on the computer as well. And I’m usually not around, or if I’m home, there’s usually someone (namely Kasedy) with me, and we all have fun times, still… in recent years past it’s felt like we’re not really much of a family… just kinda like people living together who just so happened to be related. So I’m really glad that this Christmas was as good as it used to be. I miss those days — when everyone would talk and play with their presents with each other, and have a good old time at the table at dinner, and then just relax and enjoy each other’s company after dessert. I don’t know if this New Year’s Eve will be the same, nor do I know if next year it’ll be as good, if we can get through this financial crap, but for now, I can be thankful that at least this Christmas was a very special Christmas for me.

Happy Holidays, everyone.

Comments (1) Dec 26 2008

Since we can’t afford your anti-depressants, I’m going to kick your ass, basically.

That means, I’m going to force you to come out of your office and make you do things that are good for you. Examples include aerobic exercise, maintaining a healthy diet, interacting with your loved ones, and working on some intellectual goodness.

Why, you ask? Well, I have a couple of reasons:

- you’re clinically depressed.

- you don’t have you antidepressants to combat your symptoms.

- it’s a known fact that exercise releases endorphins, ‘feel good’ chemicals that’ll make you feel better. Healthy foods affect you physiological health, which means less stress on the body, which also means less stress on the mind, which also means more positive thoughts. Using your brain stimulates it. The brain is like a muscle; work it and it gets stronger. If you don’t use it, it’ll atrophy and degenerate faster. It’s bad enough that you had your… habits back in the college days, to prevent further degeneration and to reverse some of it in your brain… USE IT!

- Being around people that love you make you feel happy. So for god’s sake, stop living in your damn office. I’ll blow it up if I absolutely have you.

Ah yes, one more thing. If you don’t start seriously putting effort into quitting smoking, I will seriously put effort into making you quit smoking. And I guarantee if I have to step in, you will hate me and wish I was dead. Consider this a warning.

You being depressed is making absolutely everything worse. You don’t put as much effort into anything (especially things that are important), you’re inclined to give up on things faster, you’re more of an asshole to everyone, you do a lot more of that victim shit that makes the world want to smack you around, and generally, life is much more miserable when you, Dad, are walking around and vibing the house out. So I’ve declared it. I’m going to make you have a healthier lifestyle regardless of whether you’ll hate me for it or not. So, you’d better prepare yourself for when I come back. You’ve got a week.

Comments (2) Dec 11 2008