To Das Squirrel,
Regarding the Mutha Fucka. This is based my profuse fallacy of over-generalization, unfounded speculative theories, and some of which are my personal experience.
You asked me why I get to see “them”. It’s because I prayed, requested, willed their “true form” to manifest. Or that I may/might be a government experiment on how well I handle, what you’d call, “life”. Or that “they” created themselves to appear as I “imagined” subconsciously.
Anyway, it’s true what you said. It’s difficult to handle stress with your Twit Wifey and stupid/crazy people at work. It’s insane to be married or to work with someone INCAPABLE of supporting you with the most basic functions of decision making, or in this case Mom.
But you passed “God’s” test to support or at least help the ailing Mutha Fucka. She was crying for help, which is hypocritical of her when she keeps proclaiming that she never sought help or depended on others.
She’s ungrateful to remember the hard work of her maids in the Philippines, her hard working late parents and late elder siblings, and other kind strangers – all who “helped” guide her to find jobs and addresses, for example.
Tonight’s episode, and this thought just came through, was an exercise on how you’d responded to family crisis! You passed with flying colors!
As expressed earlier in our hushed conversation, your presence helped give the old woman a small glimmer of hope that, you, her beloved son, was there to help her. Your effort to diffuse another situational drama was appreciated.
She knew I was already short-circuiting by my LOUDNESS, profanity, rudeness, and nastiness. She knew I was under stress. And who wouldn’t be – to witness her ragging on Dad EVERYDAY!
Basically, the old woman is in denial that there is something wrong with her husband. I’ve observed that she keeps him busy so that he doesn’t lose his mind from laziness. He does look skinnier and this is based on her expertise that people who look gaunt like him are sick.
Dad has been passing out cold turkey while we drove around doing errands. He wouldn’t listen to us about reclining the passenger seat slightly backwards so his big head won’t bob forward or sideways into me while driving.
When he’d finally join us late at night around ten o’clock to watch television in the living room, he would pass out sitting upright or lie down sideways for a full sleep!
During DWST on Monday night, I had an idea and we tested his blood sugar level and found that his blood sugar level was 97.
Mom fumed that he was being too stubborn by not eating enough, which would explain his general lethargy and overall slowness in getting things done! None of the specialist had any idea what was wrong with him, except pre-diabetes, just like his younger sister Edith!
Mom wouldn’t stop fuming and threw some cracker snacks at him for refusing to eat and bring up his sugar level. He continued to irritate this former medical professional with his usual stupid questions.
She is so frustrated that she told him to discuss his health issues with his doctors. She essentially gave up on the old man and is now maintaining her silence to avoid stress and the pending but blessed heart attack!
Unfortunately, he has problem expressing himself verbally. He may/might be autistic because he is only concerned about himself. And legally, the spouse, Mom, is supposed to cover the other half, Dad, in the case of INCAPACITY.
So, the Catch-22 falls on my shoulders, since I, my dear Squirrel, do NOT wish for you to short-circuit, too. You have your own life, wife, and strife to worry about. In any case, you still have an old home full of old frustrated farts to come back to. Likewise, the Twit Wifey can go back to her mother’s home anytime.
Okay, back to the original thought. For example, Josie, an old Mexican lady, would rag on her cousin/husband up until the day he died. She discovered him dead, sitting upright on his favorite recliner sofa seat.
So, when Mom has stepped up her ragging on Dad more recently just this year, I speculate that she is sensing his demise too or speeding him up to meet Saint Peter.
And Mom in her desperation found herself alone. She intentionally made me the bad guy, and I accepted the truth and will try to listen to what you said about chilling out and not being reptilian nasty.
With lots of hisses,
Evil Kitty, the Negativity
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