My wacky little world

I told my grade level team this morning about my plan to take a sick bank leave and they were all very supportive. I do work with some awesome people and I take great pity on the special ed teacher that works in my room. First off, she had to work with me and she still does as I call her daily to see what was and wasn't accomplished so I know where to direct my plans for the next school day.

My poor brother was supposed to come home from Iraq in three weeks to get married. His devoted fiancee has called off the wedding as of Monday. The problem apparently is that my brother is in the military and his fiancee doesn't like that. She also doesn't want to move to Germany when his time in Iraq is up.

This reminds me of Adam Sandler in "The Wedding Singer" when his fiancee leaves him at the altar and later tells him why and he responds with something akin to the phrase, "Something that could have been brought to my attention yesterday!" Of course, my brother's been in the military since she met him in February so maybe she should have considered that a few months back.....? Just a thought.

I'm tired and not all at the same time. I want to sleep with this depression but my body isn't allowing excessive sleep even without the Provigil. I explained the depression today to my shrink as sitting in a bathtub filled with joy and happiness and someone else pulling the plug while my nekked and distorted flabbo body remains in the tub exposed to all that is wrong with the world.

There's so much that is wacky in my world but I'm too tired to type it all, especially after getting caught up with the whole award thing. Two posts in a night is probably as exhausting as good sex used to be in my life.

Survival and other bitching

Survival is about making it through this first week back at school. I'm wiped out physically and mentally at this moment. Another blogger who teaches has recently typed about this. Teaching can be both wonderful and life-sucking at the same time. This is my twelfth year teaching and the new monkey wrench this year is the addition of inclusion students, some of which have some pretty impressive emotional issues and they are so far below grade level (some up to 4 years) that I am trying to figure out how to make this work.

Then my darling parents arrive home from a week of gambling elsewhere in the state. The first thing I hear is that my dad, not my bio-dad, didn't take a certain medicine all week long and then almost had to be hospitalized at the last moment on Thursday evening. This was something totally and completely avoidable if he had just taken his medicine daily as instructed. I take my damn medicine and I still feel like crap; he doesn't know how lucky he is.

I tried to explain the whole Tysabri mess and I can sense my mother isn't really interested in this phone conversation. Anything that has to do with me is generally disinteresting to most of my family. Gee, mom thanks for expressing support for me as I tell you how frustrating it is trying to obtain Tysabri while I try to just freaking stay awake and do my job.

Then she asks about some friends of mine that I had hoped to meet up with in November. That isn't going to happen and I know it, even if it hasn't been expressed aloud. It was something I was looking forward to but I just can't worry about two other people trying to make it work within the confines of my work schedule. My best friend is always too busy and I know it just won't happen because her life is pretty much all work and she doesn't have MS.

Next mom's on to finding out if the apartment with no stairs is available or not in November or December. I don't know the answer yet as I've been spending hours calling medical providers and such trying to get Tysabri and then also just doing that thing called work.

Then we hit the hot button topic of my future sister-in-law. My brother who is 29 was home on leave in February for two weeks. He got engaged at that time to a female he met while he was enjoying his drunken stupor and had "known" for one week.

My parents have gone crazy for this little nose-pierced, two-toned hair 24 year old. I'm sure she has some good qualities but I am tired of hearing all about their November wedding that has all the things a girl could want and more.

When I went to get married after college, my parents hated my future beloved, paid for none of our wedding, openly insulted my future husband to anyone in sight, and disowned me for a period of time. My mother refused to attend my wedding shower and later gave me a pink bowl with feathers on the side of it as my gift. My wedding gift was equally thoughtless, a hand-made looking type of pitcher. Yes, well thought out and especially chosen for me.

I have spent my whole life being the black sheep in this family of three children. It's a title I can't lose and don't deserve, yet it clings to me.

I wanted to get some copies of pictures of my brother last weekend from my parents. He sent home lots of pics that my future S-I-L had put on a disk and printed out. I called my parents and asked if I could come over on the weekend, look at the pics, and pick some to get copies made of for myself. My parents invited my future S-I-L over and I decided not to attend the lovefest that is all about my parents, my brother, and his beloved.

Being in the same room with her makes it harder for me.

My parents love, love, love this girl, this girl with no real skills, except to make pictures at Sam's Club. I love how my brother and his special woman can do no wrong while I can do no right.

When the four of us are together (parents, her and me) I tend to disappear. It becomes all about her and my brother and my parents. No one asks me questions, she sits at the table where I normally do, and she's getting a wedding with complete support from my family and I must hear every detail.

I'm envious as hell and pissed off that she gets attention that I can never get. I'm so tired of being last in my family and having no real sense of support. My mother is a nurse but she allows me to just fall down over and over as she struts on by. I ask myself, even now at 37, why I'm not good enough still.

I am working so hard with school and it is sucking the energy out of me. There is nothing left after the day ends as I come home and do more work. I want to relax and feel decent and have some sort of fun and that doesn't happen. I am sick of having MS and I am mad at it and frustrated and I feel alone. This sense of being truly alone is even more acute now.

I guess the people who have the ability to love you the most, can deal you the hand that is unplayable. I just don't want to play card games any more.