*pumping ego*
Well, I said I wouldn't...but I'm a terrible hypocrite. And besides, this isn't really to announce anything, cuz I've been back about a half week already, so no point in pointing out the obvious.
This here is more or less a little story of what's been going on since I walked away technically a year and a half ago.
Lessee, last summer was busy for me, lots of traveling. Older sis' graduation over in Michigan, Some kinda Christian convention down in Kansas City about a month later. got back, and decided to announce that I was leaving. alot of you pointed out that It was stupid for me to disappear for a bit, just to reappear to say I was leaving. And I'll admit, it more or less was, but you know, formalities and whatnot.
Thus began my first school year without OWF.
Loads of fun. I got a life, or some semblance of one. I took honors classes, passed them. And did stuff a normal teenage boy at my age would do.
...Atleast for the first semester about.
For a little backstory in my life. My mom was diagnosed with cancer back in 2001, I believe. Atleast that's what I hear. I don't keep track of years very well.
Anyway she went on fighting it till somewhere around 2004 or so she was put into remission, to the relief of my family and our wallets. I don't know how to describe growing up in my early teens with a mother with cancer. While other kids my age went to movies every other weekend and whatnot, my siblings and I found ourselves going to couseling, not that we needed it or anything, but it was to "help us cope with it" or whatever. All I liked were the free snacks. All these years however, it's not like my mom was bed ridden or anything. She could still get up and around...when she wasn't on chemo or anything. But our constant paying hospital bills and the ilk didn't leave much surplus for many funtime activities. Nothing really changed when she went into remission, we were still paying bills from when she did have cancer, and my siblings and I were...like I said, can't really describe it.
Around last year, around summer, I think, we learned that the cancer had returned. I don't know what exactly brought it back, but I have a hunch that it was a supplementary drink she was talking called Reliv. From what I heard it was chaulk full of soy...and if there's anything that cancer loves, it's soy...or something...anyway, I don't think it helped. rolling around fall, she didn't seem to be doing that bad, she was trying to do the homeopathic route, all natural stuff and stuff. Things got more complicated come winter when some meds the Doctor doctors gave her that clashed with the natural stuff. or vice versa, either way, wasn't pretty. Around February, she developed pneumonia, and had to be taken to the hospital. If she were taken any later, she probably would've died right there, which would've saved me from the worst 6 months of my life. After she came home she decided she was off any and all treatments. The doctors bascially said that they'd give her 6 months, a year if best, which from after watching the bucket list, seems to be a popular estimate. Over the next 6 months the cancer started eating away at her body, and she grew weaker and weaker, leaving my siblings and I to take care of her. For the first few months she could do most things herself, go to the bathroom, and the basics, but she mainly sat in her chair, crocheting or whatever fit her fancy. Later on, as she grew weaker, she would require some help to physically get over to the bathroom, but nothing too bad.
All this time she was taking pain pills, and not your simple over the counter ibuprofen. We're talking hydrocodone, which I think is basically vicodine, which is basically heroine...I could be wrong. This was because if she didn't take it, she'd start getting headaches and other pains. Basically she could feel the cancer attacking her body, and all she could do was get doped up to not notice it. It wasn't long before she needed to be carried around by wheelchair (she had been using a walker beforehand) I, being the only male strong enough, while my dad was at work, helped get from her chair to the wheelchair, and then if she needed help to the bathroom, one of my sisters, or my dad if he was home, would take it from there.
Near the end we did start getting some hospice help, be it official or my aunt, which was nice when my sis's weren't home (my older sis worked, and my little sis, frankly was a butt and went to her friend's houses to get away from the house, leaving me alone with my little bro, and he couldn't do shit.) Maintaing a social life was impossible. My mom required constant attention, and whenever hospice wasn't around, I would be left with my sister and brother (if my sis didn't conveniently run off *sarcasm*). This went on for a while. Sometimes I'd be left alone. no sister's, no hospice, no nothing. I hated these times, I feared them like the plague. Whenever I was alone, and my mom would ring her little electronic doorbell (which she did, constantly, for the littlest things too) I would walk over to her with loathing...I swear. Most of the time it'd be something trivial (Phill, I can't get the Cd player running) but about 2 times I went, and thank god it was only 2, she would, in fact, have to go the bathroom. I'm not going into detail, cuz I made it my main point whenever that happen not to see anything which would scar me for life. And I didn't, thank God.
Then one day, while my aunt was visiting from Oregon, my mom's leg broke, from trying to stand up. That's when we knew it wasn't long. The cancer had gone far enough that the bones in the x ray were barely visible. What followed was one of the busiest weeks of my life, We had family over nonstop, which was loud, sure, but it meant I wasn't left alone with her. I spent just about every waking second in my Family room, which is the farthest room from where she was. I even slept there, cuz in my old room, which was right next to their room, I would be awaken by...my dad getting ready to go to work, him helping my mom get up, her cying out to him, getting all emotional. Just stuff that I sderjkj ;laekjfmghsaj...don't want to remember. Don't want to hear. Just want to forget.
The monday before she passed away, I think it was even before she broke her leg. The hospice lady, and my other aunt from oregon, who was in hospice, said they didn't see her living a week or two. They asked my mom...she didn't see herself living the weekend. That week, like I said, was jam packed with family, friends, and other people, I don't remember who all was there.
My older sister, who was at that time recently engaged to her fiance, a nice guy she had known ever since they were kids, was planning on having their wedding in September, in fact this last sunday, which they did. My dad and everybody told them she wouldn't last that. So that week, the busy week I talked about, my sister and her fiance, along with my dad and his parents, planned to have a small ceremony right there in the house, on Saturday. They called a pastor friend of ours and told him, and he said he could do it. so that Saturday, My sister, her fiance, my parents and his, emptied the house and had a small ceremony right there, so that my mom could see it. From what I saw in the pictures at the memorial service, it was something special. The hospice person said, that at the time of the ceremony, her oxygen levels were at the levels of a person that would usually be in a coma. She stayed awake throughout the whole thing. This was proven by my dad who said that whenever he said "gimme a kiss" she would, very weakly but surely, pucker up for a kiss that my dad said, was as lively as ever.
My mom died the next morning, about 5 or something, I was asleep, so I don't know for sure. It was July 6, A week after my birthday. about 12 days after hers. She was the ripe old age of...49
So yeah, that's about it. I am frankly having a hard time typing this, as I am crying right now as hard as I did at her memorial service.
I...I've been through alot, i guess that's what I'm trying to say. I've gone through time where I've felt intense loathing for her, and times like, right now, I couldn't miss her more. While I've typed this out, I've reexperienced all the feelings I've had, from apathy, to the sheer annoyance and hatred. To right now where I'm bubbling like a buffoon.
Frankly, I don't know why I'm back. Don't know why I'm back to this place where I've spent a good portion of my former years, sitting infront of a variety of screens, from TV's to computer's to DS's and PSP's. I've been ridiculed by the people here, for simply being who I was. I've made friends here, ranging from one's I occasionally glance at online, or the one's that I talk to on MSN probably about everyday. You may not like me, but frankly. I don't care. I've been through too much to be affected by petty insults. Some arrogant wangsta prick on youtube calls me a faggot. I say "whatever helps you sleep at night"
Some Arab yells at me for being a Jew, Some Jew yells at me for being a Messianic Jew. What do I care? To the Arab, I say "may we be friends, in the name of Allah," and to the Jew, "Let us be friends in the name of Adonai" I don't quite know where I am going with this, but to wrap things up, there are three levels of the psychic apparatus. Id, ego, and super-ego. If that confuses you, let me simplify. Me. Me and You. Me and the world. Me is where the child hits the other kid on the head, grabs the toy, and says "mine".
Me and you is where the child has eggsalad for lunch, and the child next to him has PBJ, now the child with the PBJ doesn't like eggsalad any more than the first child, so the first child says, "I will give you my Eggsalad, and this pudding cup, in exchange for your PBJ" (though trading anything for a pudding cup is insanity, I tell you). Me and the World is the child's father, who looks down upon them in an entirely different view.
I've been Id, back when I was child, I've been ego, back in middle school, and most of my high school years. I know I am not ego now, for ego would take my position, and go into a fit, asking why God would do such a thing, and how it isn't fair, isn't somehow equivalent. If I am not id, nor am I ego, what can I be, if not something else.
Though I don't think I like the term "super-ego"...too haughty, and what the name implies is infact not haughty and high nosed. But is infact from what I see, a hightened since of humility, since it's not particularly connected to the world of id and ego. but looks at them from a step to the side.
I may be wrong on my views on the psychic apparatus. but all I know is I feel somehow...disconnected from certain things in this world. it's hard to explain.
have a good one, OWF. Hope I didn't depress you too much
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