Welcome to the senior romper room. I live with my elderly mother and father. My father has cerebral venous sinus thrombosis (CVST), like a stroke, alcoholism, verbal abuse, etc. My mother is an elderly, codependent enabler whom I worry about, PLUS she finally had her shoulder surgery last May. My mother also suffers from lymphedema in her leg due to chemotherapy for ovarian cancer years ago.  

Yes, I have a shrink(a lot more people should have their shrink and be on meds too!); she is well aware, I assure you. Perhaps someone reading this will relate, and they won't feel so alone and depressed. I hope this blog entertains at some point; my knee-jerk reaction to stressful, awkward, and fucked up situations is to make jokes, and my humor tends to be crude, dry, sarcastic, and offensive to some, like my mother, who either glares at me with her Manson lamps or she tells me, "I don't find you amusing." As you get to know me if you do read on or not. I'm done if I don't laugh, so this is MY ROOM!! If you're easily offended, or you flat-out have no sense of humor, get the fuck out now. Just stop reading because I don't want any bullshit comments flooding my inbox about what a horrible person I am and how my blog offends you. It's my blog, my bullshit. I fucking live it. 

So again, if you offend easily or you're an internet troll, this blog is not for you, so don't waste your time leaving comments and lecturing me about how I should be living my life, caring for my folks, and my role as the awful person I am. I'm well aware, thanks, so save it. I have to live it. You don't.  

Have a Sparkling Day! 😘

Ok, Welcome! Thank you for stopping by 👋 and staying. Grab a snack and kick back. 

I've wanted to write about a lot of this for so long, not to embarrass or shame anyone; it's very painful and emotional to write about and to relive. I I feel there needs to be a lot more awareness about addiction and the elderly. I don't drink anymore. I can count on one hand how many beers I've had in the last 12 years. And I loved my beer. 

Ok, so a lot has happened since January ('22). My father died the day after the New Year; he went in on December 15; that morning, he seemed fine, then, after breakfast, he went upstairs, and he started becoming unresponsive, not answering my mother; it wasn't right. I had a bad feeling and told my mother to call an ambulance. Oh, my fucking Christ, was that a shit show!! 🤹‍♂️ I can't bring it up to my mother, the last time I went on a rant about how the paramedics dicked around and should not have been listening to my father's fucking bullshit about not going unless they let him go to the bathroom to pee. I got so aggravated that I yelled up to everyone and said, for fuck sake(FFS), give him that plastic urinal thing, and let's GO!! It was ridiculous. Of course, mommy dearest says nothing. 

I did my damnedest not to cry as I kissed my father and told him I loved him. I stood in the driveway and watched as the EMTs put my father into the ambulance. Ten days till Christmas. I had just gotten a puppy; of all people, my father was the one that had found the ad in the paper and saved it for me. Rewind to last night; my mother had been a spazz all day about how my father would react when he saw the puppy. She was firmly against me getting a puppy. It was either a dog or getting my pistol permit (and a pistol). 

It was a good hour one way to get there; I did a lot of running around all day; I wasn't looking forward to going home and was sure things would go sour once they saw I had a puppy, it seems that if it made me happy, chances are they'd put an end to whatever it was. Well, I was having none of it. My relationship of almost three years was making me a basketcase, which sucks; I liked his family and got along well with them. Sad, I miss them, but more on that after.

I finally got home around 8ish, my folks getting ready to go upstairs for the evening; I shushed my mother, who was freaking out. What a😲 surprise. My father was sitting in his recliner; keep in mind I'm hiding the puppy under my coat so that I could surprise my father. I walked over to my dad, he asked what was up, eh, not much, and I gently and carefully placed the puppy in his lap. He looked at the puppy, then at me quizzically, and said, "what's that?" then he realized it was a real live puppy. I've never seen my father's face light up the way it did. He asked, "what's his name?" "I don't have one for him  yet." Then I added, "it's the puppy you found in the paper dad." It was a good hour one way to fetch the little guy but worth it. After my mother saw my father's face light up and how happy the furry little bundle had made him, she sighed with relief. We both did.

My father would show and tell me about all the kittens and cats up for adoption every day in the paper. I'm more of a dog person (I love cats, but I love to feed the birds). My father found the ad for the puppies and must've put it aside. I was very surprised when I asked him two weeks after he told me initially where the ad was for the puppies. I didn't expect him to say, "oh, yeah, it's right here!". Boom! There it was. I still have a pic of the ad. My father knew exactly what he was doing when he told me about those puppies and saved the ad in the paper for me. He planted the seed and kept his hands clean to avoid my mother's wrath. I knew it but didn't care.

You see, after my father's 1st stroke, it affected his short-term memory. Drinking didn't help it, either. Honestly, I've never seen my father sloppy or fall down drunk. He was a full-functioning alcoholic. No one ever had a clue. 

My relationship of over 2yrs was getting too much to bear. It's hell when you're constantly accused of running around and cheating because I didn't feel like staying over his mother's every weekend or if I wasn't in the mood. I wanted to work on my blog, and he'd have a fit that started an argument. I was tired of it hurting; then I must be cheating. The accusations and delusional scenarios he accused me of were insane. How much can a person be expected to shrug off?! I was becoming more and more of a nervous wreck; it doesn't exactly make one feel remotely lovey-dovey. Besides, without trust, he obviously didn't trust me (thanks to a deep seeded issue going back to his wife(he was still separated, 5+yrs still, no hurry to get divorced which compounded more animosity.)

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't do anything I wanted, like my hobbies and interests, just more accusations. I couldn't take it anymore. Then he'd tell me I imagined it. Now the gaslighting had begun. i never understood what gaslighting meant. If I confronted him about it, it would only get worse. 

Just when I start to feel ok and not a nervous wreck I'm being watched, he'll text, call or like the other day, come to a stop if he sees me outside and yell "biiiiiiiiiiiiitch..... Biiiiiiiiiiiiiitch in a creepy tone. Gee, I wonder who that was... Seriously?! Come on! I was afraid he'd take the immature road.

He texted me his conscience was clear, so that's good for him. No wonder his kids only bother with him when they want something (money/Xmas/bdays, etc.). Sad really.