Maybe I am the one that’s wrong

ButSince the house caught on fire, I’ve been catching a lot of slack. I don’t know what people expect. I have 4 others who are devistation that need help, dad’s threatening to kill himself again and everyone seems to be more concerned about tearing the house down than helping five people get a roof over their heads.

I’m accused of causing trouble for my sister because I told people that the GoFundMe account was going to demo the house rather than helping us to survive and find a place. I told the truth, so I’m a bad person. But, even though they are only worried about Dad, unless the church comes through for two more nights today, Easter night, my boys and I have no where to go. The area shelters are full. There’s a waiting list. And I still have to worry about my Dad. I love him. He is my family. How far is $1085 supposed to go with hotel rooms, food and emergency clothing? How far is $600 in cash supposed to go? We have a microwave and small fridge in the rooms, we’ve been traveling every day to the house. I can’t cook, so we eat frozen or out and both are expensive.

I deleted a Facebook post that went very bad very fast, but it was honest. And it definitely shows where ties are. I won’t forget. And I no longer have anything to lose.

The community has been overwhelmingly generous. The prayers and support are so appreciated. There are no words to describe the depths of gratitude. I can’t even begin to single out individuals without fearing missing someone, so I won’t. Everything is appreciated.

The first thing Jim did Tuesday was go to look for Pharaoh. He found him tucked in his hammock. The cage destroyed. The firemen took the time to look for him for us. They didn’t find him because of their gloves and his tiny size. But that destroyed cage proves that they tried and for that I am eternally grateful. The fire never touched him. He died in his sleep. He didn’t feel any fear. He didn’t suffer. His loss is so very hard, but the above mentioned are a couple of comforts.

Easter is tomorrow. We’ll be here. I have candy for the boys. Some sort of normalcy, something I can control. I told Mom a long while ago that once things were all over, my plan was to quietly slip away. We’re unwanted, I’ve known it for years. The boys know it. Now, the only one I need to be there for is Dad. No pretending. I don’t need to be fake. If Dad goes to the high rise, I need to do what’s best for the boys and Jim. He’s welcome with us, but my priority is my kids and husband. I can’t run two households.

 


This is only part of what I’m dealing with. The rest included a screaming match in the middle of the street and they were the ones who sent me with Dad. I made one trip alone to get an inhaler for Jamey and I made phone calls to 3 psychiatrists and 2 therapists to try to get Dad, Jamey, and Ed help. As well as talking to churches, utilities, people who want to help, friends making sure we’re ok, the Red Cross. The salvation army, any lead I could get… But I’m a lazy bitch who doesn’t want to help. Ok. That’s fine. I’ll deal.