What an incredibly long week. It has been so emotional too. After all of this, I'm not really ready to go back to work, but I have to. Tuesday morning when I got home from work, I got the call that my step-grandmother had died that Monday afternoon. I though ok, where do we go now? Because no one had a strait answer for me and I supposedly had the bereavement time, I stayed home to try to get ready and figure out where, when, and how on the funeral. Come to find out after getting the obit Wednesday night, I would not be getting bereavement time, because my grandfather thought it was a good idea to list all the grandchildren and that I was a step grandchild. Step grandparents are not counted for bereavement. No matter how long they have been part of the family. So that screws us out of over a week's pay. We find out that the funeral is going to be held in Youngstown, OH. 7 hours away. So I rushed to renew my AAA membership. Because even if I didn't end up driving, there was no way in hell I was going to get stranded in another state with my parents. Then I had to get something to wear, since I got too big to wear anything decent that I had. I rushed to get my oil changed, in case I needed to drive. Needless to say after all is said and done, I will most likely out over $800, because of this. I doubt I will see any of it back at all. Goddess willing, someone might take pity on my husband and I at work and we will get the bereavement pay. I highly doubt it. They didn't even send the flowers they said they would. The cheap bastards.
All through the headache of preparing for the funeral and calling people to force information out of them about the details, Brett was freaking out. There was nothing I could say or do for him to calm him down. This was the last thing I needed. He freaked out the whole time and I think he is still sort of freaking out. Seriously if I thought hitting him over the head with something would knock him out and get him to calm down, I probably would have done it. When we get home Friday night, Brett freaks out more and starts going on and on about how he knows I hate this house and everything. How he knows I want something bigger, but he loves this house. I tell him that I never said that I hated the house, but when we got it, it was under the agreement that it was temporary. He counters that as time goes on, it seems to be getting more and more permanent. Honestly I did not even want to have this conversation. I had other things on my mind. Whether we were going to be staying in this house for a long time or not, was the farthest from my mind. He asked if he needed to take over handling the money and I got pissed. He said he didn't mean that I was doing a bad job, just if it was becoming too stressful, he would handle it from now on. The only thing stressful about it, is when Brett freaks out about it. I take things as they come. As long as the mortgage, loan, utilities, and kids are taken care of, I will handle the other stuff as I can. If that means shoving a bill or 2 to the side for that pay period, then that's what I have to do. I don't worry about it, because it will do no good. I'm lucky that we have all our meds and enough food for the week. As long as the gas holds out in the car, we will be fine till payday. Then I have to work magic to get the basics paid at least. I love Brett with all my heart, but his meds don't seem to be working, other than he doesn't really go manic anymore. He hates his life and is constantly worried. Honestly, what are we paying the therapist and psychiatrist for, because what they are doing, isn't helping. I tell him this and he claims they can't help him with it. I worry about my energy. It seems to be getting worse. My doctor says that I need to go see a psychiatrist. I have to go spend hundreds of dollars for a person to look at me for 10 seconds and give me a prescription and send me on my way. Not to mention the time I will have to wait and get canceled on. I don't think it's chemical in the head way. I want to rule out all the physical stuff first. I'm around the age my grandma June was when she died of leukemia and that worries me. *sigh* No one listens to me anyway.
The funeral was a joke. But at least i got to see grandma June's and aunt Carol's graves. I got to reconnect with great aunt Erma and great uncle Dan. They are awesome people and I had a great time with them. I think through them I might get to learn more about that part of the family. I have gotten way behind on things here at home. The dogs are driving me nuts. Brett has hit his Sunday blues, so there goes my night. I worry, because I just can't make him happy. I can't make him smile. Yes he has problems, but they should be taking care of this. You can't tell me all bi-polars walk through life, hating life 24/7. I wish he would really get after his psychiatrist about this. I would be. But of course no one listens to me. I really don't know why I don't just hide from the world and never come back out. It wouldn't make a difference to anyone if I did or not. And now I've made myself depressed. Well I better go try to find something to loose myself in. Laters! Savvy?
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