Oh where to start. We are only eight weeks in to the new year and 2019 has not been that kind to me. I was set to donate blood this evening and I got a not so great phone call 90 minutes beforehand and I could actually feel my blood pressure rising. Sooo I actually couldn’t donate my rare and wonderful blood because I was too stressed.
In January my Pop, my mom’s father, passed away. It was relatively unexpected, which, in a weird way, is better because my nana, his wife of 60+ years, didn’t have to watch him fade away. I thought I had accepted it, I certainly went through the stages of grieving, but now, a month later, I’m feeling a lot of emotions surrounding his passing. From the day of his passing to the date of his funeral, it was a very surreal two weeks. I would call their house to talk to my nana and his voice on the machine would just freeze the blood in my veins. Sometimes I’d call a few times just to hear his voice again. Death sucks. It doesn’t get easier. I have just learned to cope with the feelings differently.
That’s not why I’m writing this post, by the way, I just had to throw that in there because my pop was an amazing man and even if four people read this that’s four more people that get to hear how incredible he was.
Anyway. Back in October I watched this amazing four-minute video from Tiffany Jenkins about enabling vs. loving an addict. She broke it down about the difference and said that if an addict is happy with you then you’re probably enabling them but if they’re angry with you then it’s probably because you’re trying to save their life. That often times loved ones (of addicts) aren’t doing it to help the addict, they’re doing it to help themselves.
How much of what I do for my dad is actually for him? How much am I doing for myself? Even when I say, “If I didn’t do it then nobody would. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I didn’t help,” because I do say that when people ask me why, it’s still for me.
BOOM, self. Freaking boom. I’m doing it for me. So I don’t feel guilty. My dad doesn’t deserve everything I do for him.
So I watched that video back in October and that same day his nurse got to his apartment and found him passed out with a bottle of vodka. I decided to step up and I called his probation officer and turned him in. Obviously it’s February so I can say confidently that my dad was given multiple chances to fix things.
He was caught again just within the past ten days. He tried to argue it and demanded a blood test. Want to guess what that blood work showed? It showed that his blood level was .329! That means that he was OVER FOUR TIMES the legal limit. Since he’s on probation, though, that should have been a big, fat zero.
This morning he was arrested and bought back to jail. I’m going to paint a visual for you. He is 5’10” and weighs, approximately, 140 lbs. The right side of his face, at his jaw line, is relatively disfigured because he had a tumor removed ten years ago. He has a hole in his neck for his tracheotomy. He has a peg tube to put food in and an iliostomy to take waste out. Plus he has no tongue or larynx so he’s completely silent. This man was brought to jail for a probation violation.
His arrest means I have almost two dozen phone calls to make tomorrow in regards to upcoming appointments, insurance situations, medical supply deliveries, and more. This comes after I spent almost ten weeks getting just one supply company in order so that he’d have his very specific supplies on time at his door. Lets all cross our fingers that I can get those delivered to jail.
I found out tonight, actually on the way to go donate blood so that’s probably why my BP spiked, that my dad has been talking trash about me. He said that I think I run the world, I’m not in charge, and that I’m obsessed. This isn’t the first time he’s spoken poorly of me. But holy hell did that hurt. It hurts because I give so much of myself, I take time away from my family, my friends, myself, my child! I take time away to make sure he has all of his appointments and rides and supplies and I don’t get a “thank you” or a “great job,” instead I get put down and mocked.
The point of this post is to really just get it off my chest. I feel badly messaging friends to complain about this but if you’re reading it means you came here lol. I’ve cried about this a few times tonight. I just feel so very low.
In doing this post, though, I re-watched Tiffany’s video (and I linked it up above so you should watch it, too) and that’s where I go the title. In the video she said, “Make sure you don’t cut yourself from picking up their broken pieces.” That is what I needed to hear tonight (hence the title) because, I can only pick up those pieces so many times. Now I need to work on mine.
Have a good night ❤