what a day....

This morning, Mum and I found Stepdad dead in his room.

Well really Mum saw him and would not enter the room, so she sent me to see if he was breathing. He was in his chair with his oxygen thingy not on his face like it usually is, and he looked very white.

He was cold.

I know we expected this, since he was so sick. And Stepdad and his kids have been making our lives miserable for years, so it's not like there was any love lost there, but still.....

As terrible a person as he was, I think towards the end he received it back in spades--his kids didn't want to take care of him and made that fairly obvious, he was dying a slow and awful death and living in a house with people who didn't really want him there--not exactly a pleasant end of life.

I think maybe he killed himself, God rest him. There were a bunch of empty pill bottles in the rubbish bin next to his bed. I didn't tell Mum that.

We've already had to call the cops on Stepbro #1 twice today. All communication between my fam and Stepdad's kids is now being done between me and Stepbro #2, who is the most mature/civil. I have a feeling this will get interesting once Stepbro #1 and Grendel start drinking later on.

I think I may need a drink as well.... Mum's a bit of a wreck though, so I'm trying to keep a clear head. I imagine I shall need it.

No Father, it's just fizzy water.

The books shall be mailed out at some point in the near future... (Don't worry, those of you who messaged me--I won't forget you.)

I love how I have the same conversation with my mother over and over and over and over ad nauseam. Actually now that I think of it, we have many conversations over and over again, because Mum (though I love her unconditionally) does not pay attention, or listen. Ever.

Seriously, it's been the same since we got the internet. 

Like is she kidding

::patienceisavirtue::

Funny how sometimes you end up eating your words.

better than stuffing my face with actual cereal... 

Remember that post I did a while back, about the intense awkwardness I felt going to Dadum's church?

...

............

I've started going to church with Dad, Stepmom, and the Little Bros.

Regularly. And without being coerced or guilted into going. YES, my fellow Catholic brethren, I think I have officially defected.

I thought I'd kept it on the DL, but apparently Dad told Big Sis#2 of my recent churchgoing. Our text conversation from last week:

Big Sis#2: "I hear you've been staying over at Dad's and going to church. Think you made his year. What are you planning?? Mum must think you've lost it"

Mich: "DON'T TELL MUM."

Big Sis#2: "You're seriously going to church now"

Mich: "Yes. I don't know. I think maybe I've lost my mind. I'm depressed."

Big Sis#2: "Traitor!"

Mich: "-____-"

Big Sis#2: "Awww honey, but why are you depressed?"

Where do I even begin? I hate my job, I hate Bergen County, I hate my life, I hate that my cat is dead, I hate Stepdad and wish he was dead, and I hate that I feel that way and that he's made me feel that way, and I hate that I hate everything, and I feel trapped, and I need to GET OUT. The shrink isn't really helping. The vitamins* aren't helping and I really need to work on quitting them again. The drinking every night isn't helping and it's going to put me in an early grave if I don't cut it out. Writing isn't helping because I'm more blocked than my sinuses are from the vitamins*. Nothing helps; nothing makes the awful feelings go away. So I started going to church with Dad.

And it's helping. A little.

 I don't think I'm going to become like the crazies who think God hates gay people and abortion doctors, or the people who take the Bible as literal, word for word, believing the earth was literally created in 7 days and that the mere idea of evolution is heresy***. My beliefs haven't changed, not one bit. Just the practise of them has changed. Or perhaps the intensity of that practise?

Mum doesn't know yet, but I have a feeling that my days of secrecy are numbered. Eventually she's going to cop on to the fact that I'm spending every Saturday night at Dad's not just to hang out more with my bros (like when they go back to college and I keep going to Dad's she'll probably catch on...). Or she's going to catch me reading one of these nights (or on a weekend morning).

...most people do this with things like porn...

She already thinks I'm insane. This will make her think I need hospitalization.

Oh well. 

***[At the risk of possibly offending some of my readers (not my intention at all), I don't get the the issues with believing in evolution. Like for real, God in His infinite wisdom made all the livings on earth capable of changing and adapting to keep up with a changing environment. That's effing genius. If He hadn't done that, lots more species of animals and insects and whatnot could have died off. Like DUH. How is it blasphemous to accept, or even simply consider that notion?

Idk.... It just seems so obvious.]