going to hell in a handbasket

Okay so this isn’t going to be the sweet, fun-filled post I would have hoped for today.  Nope today I am beyond pissed and I feel like speaking my mind (which is not a good thing because I don’t have too much to lose).  Image

I am pretty sure I have one of the worst extended families in the entire world.  Let’s start with my dad’s side.  He has one sister left alive whom I love dearly.  I was named after her and she helped raise me because we lived next door to her my entire life.  She is 80 this year and not in good health.  I hate to see it because I know that she will probably be the next person I lose.  The bad part of that side of the family comes with her son.  He was so good to me as a baby.  He used to put headphones on me and let me listen to Elvis (only thing that would shut me up).   Over the years he met a woman who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and one of those lucky people who’s shit don’t stink.  Her kids wore all the name brand clothes, were in the beauty pageants, played sports….blah blah blah.  I was not as lucky.  I wore hand me downs and Good will or Wal-Mart clothes.  My house was old,  smelled bad (because my parent’s smoked), and was bright yellow and shit brown.  I had to spend Thanksgiving and Christmas with them looking down their noses at me.  It is the only two times I saw them a year.  His wife made fun of my Aunt and it made me so mad but I knew if I could get through the night it was over until next year.  That is it on that side….all I have left of family.  Now, on to my mom’s side who makes my dad’s side look like Mother Teresa.  I grew  up living two houses down from my mom’s baby brother and his four kids.  He was a preacher as far back as I can remember and boy did he let that make his head swell.  Over the years I would go to church with him because my parents didn’t go.  I was raised in this church that believed in no make-up, no jeans for women, long hair for women, one marriage/no divorce, no rock music….on and on.  Well, for my younger years I let this message brainwash my head although I never felt it was right.  I heard him preach against so many things that I disagreed with.  I also heard him preach kindness and not to be judgmental of others.  Show them love and be a good example. Well, needless to say as I aged I decided that I loved God but not the God that he preached about.  How could God love me but send me to hell for cutting my hair??  How could God love me but send me to hell for wearing blue jeans?  Well, I decided to follow my own path although I continued to go to church there.  Immediately I was looked at like satan’s spawn.  Oh wow….look at her she is wearing make up and she listens to Kenny Chesney…She is hell bound.  I finally quit going because I decided it was not them I needed to please.  I immediately became the “black sheep” of the family.  My mom’s sister who loved me dearly had died so I didn’t have her to go to…my uncles just sided with the preacher.  When I had a child out of wedlock I thought they were going to hang me from a tree and then when my marriage failed, due to years of cheating by the spouse, I was kicked out of the church (even though I didn’t go anymore).  The take your name off of the member book if you divorce and re-marry.  How is this right?  I can’t make mistakes and go to Heaven?  I can’t wear certain clothes and make it to Heaven?  If I don’t conform to what you thing God wants then I am a sinner and I have bought my one way ticket to hell?  Well so be it because if Heaven is full of judgmental people like you then I don’t want to be there.  After last night I have completely washed my hands with him and that entire side of the family.  When my mom had her accident that nearly claimed her life I sat with her for the three months she was on a vent fighting for her life.  I saw her brothers visit a total of three times (one of those times the only reason the preacher came was because he was visiting someone else at the hospital).  He runs a church with over 500 people and they were always doing benefit singings to raise money for those in the church who needed help.  When I called and asked if he could raise some money for mom and I since I couldn’t work and none of the bills was getting paid he said no.  I told him I had just received her first hospital bill and we hadn’t even left.  I kid you not this bill was over 1 million dollars for a bed in the trauma unit.  I about pissed my pants.  My heart broke when we wouldn’t ask for help just because she was “his sister” as he told me.  I brought her home with me, took her back and forth to Nashville for visits, sat with her every time she ended up in the hospital, changed her bandages and a colostomy bad up to 10 times a day….did he once call and ask me if I needed help?  Hell no.  I needed a ramp built to the front of my house because of her wheel chair(she wasn’t walking yet) and guess what?  It took volunteers from the community to buy the supplies and build the ramp.  Now you tell me that is showing love for others when you let people that don’t even know my mom build a simple ramp because it would be “wrong” for you to ask help for your own sister.  Well, after two years of caring for her I got pregnant with MIttens.  I continued to care for her even after the doc put me on bedrest.  Once I went to the hospital I needed someone to help care for my mom until I could get back on my feet.  My mom’s other sister (the only one who had helped me any at all) decided she would take her and care for her until I could.  She had POA switched to herself so she could make all decisions. Well she couldn’t handle mom.  Mom’s memory was still very bad and she would get out of the house at night.  Joyce didn’t want to chance her getting hurt so she put her in the nursing home.  That broke my heart and I felt it was my fault because I couldn’t care for her.  Over the next few weeks I talked to my Aunt and she said she wanted to keep mom out there for rehab just to see if they couldn’t get some of her memory back.  I agreed.  Mom did start improving so I didn’t fuss to much.  We never thought about POA until my Aunt admitted she had lung cancer and didn’t know how long she would live.  Every time we were to go to court to switch it back over she was sick and we couldn’t get there.  She passed away before anything was switched so I was in a mess.  I needed a 1000 dollars to put up as “collateral”.  You have to protect the person who needs a guardian.  So they require you to pay so much money just in case you take advantage of the person.  I had a court date set and was working on getting the money.  Well, I was too late because the “preacher” went behind my back and got POA over her.  I was literally fuming. Now, I have to ask him to even get my mom out of the nursing home for visits.  I have asked to bring her back home and he says no because he feels her memory isn’t good enough.  I am her daughter and I am the one who cared for her without anyone’s help….now he is telling me I can’t care for my own mom?  I finally got to take her to an appointment last week because he had a funeral to preach.  We had such a good time.  I took her to eat, we went to the mall and I bought her some clothes, and we went to Starbucks which she had been begging for.  I was supposed to take her back yesterday just for a re-check but of course Hallie had been sick vomiting and with diarrhea.  I called the doctor and rescheduled the appointment, I called mom and told her what was going on, and I called the nursing home to let them know what happened and when her next appointment was.  Well, I didn’t call him and that pissed him off.  He called me last night and talked to me like I was a five year old child. He scolded me for not calling him. He told me I would never be allowed to take her anywhere else again.  This is MY mom and I feel like I can’t even have a relationship with her without getting permission from the f’n warden.  I am sick and tired of it but can’t do a damn thing.  He is a huge part of our town.  Everyone knows him and respects him.  There wouldn’t be anyway I could talk a judge into giving me back POA.  I want to bring her home so badly.  Last night I was in tears and I called mom and told her how much I loved her and told her why I may not be back out there.  She told me she loved me so much and for me to quit crying.  She said she would talk to him that it really wasn’t up to him who took care of her.  The bad thing is her memory is still bad at times and she may not even remember our conversation.  My heart is broken and now I sit here thinking I have no one.  It is my hubs, my kids, and me.  Over the years I have learned so much about humanity and how cruel some can be.  I learned who my true friends were during mom’s accident and I learned how shitty my family really is.  I can’t let this destroy me though.  I have to just keep on keepin on.  Yeah, I am remarried, I wear jeans, I wear makeup, and I listen to the “devil music”.  It is none of your business the road I choose to travel.  In my eyes I am just as good as you.  I care for others without judgment.  I don’t beat them down and tell them they are going to hell for being divorced.  I don’t have two cents to rub together sometimes but I give to charity every month. If I can help someone I will and I don’t expect anything in return or the “notoriety” for doing it.  I am so sorry for the rant but this is my only outlet.  It is the one place I can speak my mind without condemnation.   I truly hope you are not the black sheep of your family but if you are then rock that title.  Show them just how amazing a black sheep can be.  To me it is better to stand out than to just disappear in the crowd.  As for me…I am moving on.  I am counting my losses and cutting them loose.  I don’t need anyone in my life that don’t need me.  My life is mine to live…my choices.  The only one who will judge me is my maker.

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One thought on “going to hell in a handbasket

  1. I am so sorry for they way your family treats you, But I do understand being the “black Sheep” of the family. I probably could write a book, but Don;t have the time… Well thank you for letting me know I am not the only one out there that feels the way I do…

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