Haters: Bend, Break or Blow Them Away

Haters: Bend, Break or Blow Them Away

Three days ago I tweeted the following: “You’re gonna’ have haters. Mine are mostly in my own family. You can either bend to what they say about you, or you can prove them wrong.” Besides myself, my worst critics are my father and my brother, followed by all of the idiot family members who actually believe the shit they say. Every day I wish my circumstances were different. I wish I had more confidence. I wish I had pursued music and theatre instead of continually trying to get a “real job”. I wish I were successful enough to tell my family to kiss my ass. Unfortunately though, I married the wrong person (who is also amongst my worst critics) and ended up with the mess I have now. On the upside, as I have noted in previous blog entries, I was there for my mom when she needed me in her final years, which is more than my father or my brother can say. If anything had gone the way I had planned, I wouldn’t have been there for her.

As I have noted in previous blog entries, I have been the primary caretaker for my mother and my father for the past 2 ½ years, making it difficult for me to hold a traditional full-time job. In the first year, we went through more caretakers than Taylor Swift has boyfriends. We even had one caretaker steal from us. Any time there was a problem with one of my parents or their caretaker(s), I was the one who had to handle it. Sometimes this meant that I was late for work. Sometimes this meant I didn’t make it to work at all. Sometimes I had to leave work for a little while to handle whatever it was. No employer in their right mind is going to keep such an employee. I even began keeping a log of every time this happened so that my brother could see that it happens at least once a week. I thought he understood finally. I guess not.

My former employer was a small company comprised largely of Caucasian, Republican Christians and Catholics. The Vice President’s son told me after seeing me out to lunch with a Mexican that I should “stick with my own race”. I did. I am not a Republican and I don’t attend church. As noted before, I sometimes had to inconvenience my employer by having to deal with my parents or their caretaker issues. So, take your pick as to which of these reasons they might have let me go. I believe them all to be viable, but my brother maintains I must have done something wrong. I did my best. Even with the aforementioned issues, I still had better attendance than almost everyone at this company and I definitely had a better work ethic, but I must have done something.

I went back into musical theatre back in April, performing in Annie. This led to an opportunity to teach music in a local school district. I have been self-employed doing music and theatre since April. I have told my brother and my father repeatedly that I am working. Yet, despite this fact, my brother tells people that I am lazy and don’t want to work. He tells people that I just want to hang out with Peter (name changed) and do drugs. My father tells people that he doesn’t know what I do all day because I don’t work and I don’t feed my kids. He used to tell people that I abused him. They frequently treat me as though these things are actually true about me and as though I do not have a job to get to or be at.

Wednesdays are my busiest day. Wednesday has been my busiest day since September. My brother was at the house one Wednesday in September when I returned from work, dressed for work, carrying a bag full of music books and other musical equipment and a guitar at nearly 8 p.m. Yet, he seems to still forget that I am employed. He, like my father, is still in denial. They are so busy pumping up their own egos that it is inconceivable to them that I am actually a good person who did more for them than anyone and who is now employed doing exactly what my father told me years ago I would never make any money doing.

My alarm clock went off at 5:30 this morning. I did not want to wake up. I got up at 6:00 and wondered how the hell I was going to make it through today. I was so tired. I could not see how I could make it through a Wednesday when I was already so tired at the beginning of the day. I got ready anyway. I took my kids to school. I bought a triple latte. I went back to the house to finish getting ready. I went to an appointment at 9:00 a.m. and when I was done, I had to go buy things my dad needed because he refused to let the caretaker go get these things. This left me with 30 minutes to spend with Peter while shopping for the things my dad needed. I took a B vitamin. I picked up my son at 12:30, fed him and myself, picked up my daughter at 2:00 p.m. and then returned home to change for work. When I arrived at the house, the caretaker was telling me my dad wanted to go visit someone whose husband just died, but she needed to check with me first. He wanted to go visit my aunt, whose husband died several years ago. I know where this aunt lives and maybe he does, but the caretaker needs an address because she doesn’t know where she’s going. I texted my brother. He answered nearly 2 hours later. In the meantime, I used a chain of people to get the information to the caretaker while driving to work. At work, my foot was run over by a computer cart. Hours later, it still hurts. After work, I bought burritos for my dad and dinner for the rest of us. Being as I fed my kids twice in this account of my day, I fail to see where I don’t feed my kids as my dad says. I work, so they can’t say that I don’t and be truthful. The only drugs I do are those prescribed to me for chronic pain (Rheumatoid Arthritis, Scoliosis, Spondylosis, Endometriosis) and anxiety. My brother frequently smokes pot. I don’t care. I don’t see anything wrong with that. I do see something wrong with someone who tells lies about his sister.

I gave up on my father a long time ago. I take care of him, but I wish I didn’t have to. His behavior is not a condition of his age. He has always been a pathological liar. I tried to have a good relationship with my brother because I didn’t have a good relationship with my other brother. My brother is the one who chose to not have a good relationship with me. He likes to treat me like I’m the burden on the family, but my parents bought him multiple cars, paid his insurance in his younger years, helped him buy a house in Arizona and another house for his son in Texas, gave his son their car and donated money to a campaign for an office he never ended up running for. Everything I have ever borrowed money from my parents for, I have paid back. So, who is the mooch? My brother unfriended me on Facebook because I would have voted for Bernie Sanders if he had made it to the ballot. My brother tells people I am lazy and don’t want to work when I am employed. My brother tells people I do drugs. What he doesn’t tell people is that I took care of our parents while he travelled the world, sometimes on business, sometimes for pleasure. He doesn’t tell people that I have not had a vacation in 2 ½ years. He doesn’t tell people that he hardly ever comes around. He doesn’t tell people the truth.

On top of all this, I am dealing with problems with my ex-husband and my daughter. My ex-husband doesn’t want to pay more in child support. He has barely paid anything as it is. In the wake of the Department of Child Social Services ordering that he pay more, and just a few months after my mother’s death, my ex-husband is suing for custody of the children and continuing to besmirch me. He has been doing so to his children for the past 5 ½ years. Now he is telling the same lies to the court. My daughter meanwhile is struggling with depression and anxiety, two things I know plenty about. Her troubles escalate when she is around him because he is always yelling at her and criticizing her. She needs to be with me. My brother has one adult child. He doesn’t have to deal with these sorts of issues with his ex or his children. He doesn’t have to deal with our father’s craziness every day. He doesn’t have to deal with people, particularly his own family members, talking shit about him. I could use a break. I could use a vacation. I could use a full 24 hours free of having to be responsible for someone. I could use some sleep.

I refuse to bend. I will not be broken. I am going to maximize my time and my potential. I am going to get some sleep, and in the morning, I am going to embark on yet another day in which I beat all of the odds that stand against me. Again.