26 January, 2013 12:06

I’m gonna have to start going to bed early every night for a while I think. At least most nights anyway. Last night I went to bed at something like 10:30, but I still woke up at nearly ten this morning! I can blame my eye pain for that. Once I’m asleep I’m fine, but getting to sleep is the hard bit. I could take my natural sleeping tablets every night, but I don’t know what reaction they have with other medications, so I’ve been putting that routine on hold. I may put it on hold indefinitely. I’ll try the other trick of laying down earlier and hopefully out of boredom, I’ll fall asleep. I’d rather fall asleep at 8 pm and wake up twelve hours later at 8 am, instead of the usual 10 am and onwards stuff. Believe me, when Troy retires, I may just never get out of bed again.

Nan came over not long ago. Pop has done his back in, so he stayed home and Nan came over with the intention of taking me to the shops with her. I could have walked, but for one I was eating, which she understood, and two, my eye is giving me the shits, and the Panamax will not be enough to help me cope with a walk in the sun. I’d need codeine and nurofen to handle the sun in the right eye. My left eye gets over the adjustment pretty well, normally really. It’s the right eye that’s really done me in. I just won’t tell Nan any of that because she doesn’t know how to sympathise with anyone but herself. I can’t forget that, sad as it may be. I was happy that Pop didn’t come over, me and Nan had a decent conversation without the put-downs. Hopefully he won’t be leaving the house for a while now. I hate the old man. He’s nothing but trouble that one. I don’t know why Nan is still with him. Honestly, I wouldn’t have had children with that man to save my life. And that’s not a joke or exaggeration. If I was living at their place, I would have killed myself by now. I dislike Pop more than I like myself. I asked Nan what would happen when they get too old. Nan said they’d plod along as best as they could but people disregard the old people. I then admitted that I’d be one of them when I get old, but that I don’t care less what happens to me because once I’m gone, that’s it. I feel bad when other people are in that situation but I don’t care if no one visits me when I’m old. That’s truthful. Nan couldn’t say anything to that. I don’t really care. I don’t even want to make a will because once I’m dead, my stuff isn’t mine anymore. I don’t care what happens to anyone or anything when I die. I see no point in worrying about what’s happening on the earth when I’m no longer there.

Nan then admitted that their great grandchildren aren’t allowed to see them. What I didn’t ask was why the fuck they’d be nasty enough to cause such trouble for themselves. Nan tried to act the innocent one, but I didn’t buy it. I just didn’t say anything as usual. I wanted to keep the peace without compromising what I knew of the situation. For as long as they won’t admit that they have faults like everyone else, nobody will want to know them. They expect us to treat them as family. But when we need them, they’re not there, or they think we’re asking them for too much, or whatever other excuse they got to not help us. They’re too cowardly to admit that they couldn’t give a fuck. Thanks Nan and Pop. Thanks for blatantly lying to your family and acting as though we can’t figure you out. They seriously must think we’re all friggen stupid! Well, after today’s so-called nice conversation, I don’t care if Nan and Pop never leave their beds again. I certainly won’t be going to their funeral, or to Mum’s or Dad’s funeral either. When it comes to my funeral, I don’t care what happens. I’ll be dead anyway.

I’m drinking my second cuppa coffee for the day. I need the stuff. I need coke too, but I don’t have any. At least the coffee has water in it, unlike the soft drink, which is just sugar anyway. It might be wet, but it’s still sugar. I can say that it’s a hell of a lot better than drinking a small bottle of wine every once in a few weeks. When I’ve got the wine, I drink the whole thing and won’t touch another one for half a year. The good thing with the coffee is that I can drink it every day with no ill effects. Maybe I should start drinking stiff drinks and get used to spewing up all the time. I’m certainly gonna be headed that way with upcoming procedures. It’s not as if I’ll ever like spewing up in that sense. I’ll just get used to it, like it won’t ever go away so I’ll cope with it by drinking more alcohol, or more coffee. I can drown out the reality of it, being that eventually I’ll end up fucked from the damage that spewing up can cause. But it’s ok! I’ll find something I do like to do, so I can pretend that I never spew up a lot. I don’t spew up a lot at the moment, but I bet I soon fucking will be. I can swallow tablets without spewing up now so that’s one less problem I have to deal with. And that I do like! I don’t have to tell the doctors to get me liquid medicines anymore. I still prefer capsules and jell tabs, which I’ll go for. But I won’t totally reject the other chalky pills if I’m given them. The only problem I will have, is constantly telling nursing staff to stop expecting me to spew up, since it no longer happens except after anesthetic. Hopefully they’ll give me big heaps of tramadol so I can drown out that grief artificially until I stop spewing too. I bet they won’t though. The doctors don’t want me to frown and cry and threaten suicide, yet they won’t artificially induce euphoria during hard times like the shit I’ve discussed. Nan certainly doesn’t make things easier on me. I swear, I’ll give her a hard time if she treats me like shit during my next recovery period. I won’t be nice to her or Pop at all. I’ve already warned Jill and Bill that I won’t be sleeping at my grandparents’ place anymore, and I made it final. Any stupid mucking around with that, and I won’t talk to nobody.

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