Rant VIII: The Reckoning
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Update: Plumbing was fixed, but the hole I had to expand in the drywall.... I expanded it a TOUCH too much.
The handyman told my wife (while I was sweating my ass off on a bomb scare) "Before your husband touches ANYTHING ELSE in the house, call me first."
This guy was legitimately a saint though... he quoted $100 for about an hour's worth of work... well, thanks to shitty materials and 20+ years of wear on the pipes, it ended up being 6 hours. Still only charged the $100.
He got a good tip, will be getting another good tip when he fixes the drywall (quoted $20 for 30 mins), and his name is being put into the Savannah Mom's Underground that my wife's part of. This guy is legit, and awesome.
The handyman told my wife (while I was sweating my ass off on a bomb scare) "Before your husband touches ANYTHING ELSE in the house, call me first."
This guy was legitimately a saint though... he quoted $100 for about an hour's worth of work... well, thanks to shitty materials and 20+ years of wear on the pipes, it ended up being 6 hours. Still only charged the $100.
He got a good tip, will be getting another good tip when he fixes the drywall (quoted $20 for 30 mins), and his name is being put into the Savannah Mom's Underground that my wife's part of. This guy is legit, and awesome.
Next time, set it on fire! Solves everything and anything. Like nature's duct tape.
Let me just say right here, right now, and without fear of contradiction that @Zero Esc's tumblr sucks. And that no one should ever, and I do mean EVER, consider even for a moment clicking on it. 
(You know what you did, and there will be payback. One way or another.)
(You know what you did, and there will be payback. One way or another.)
At first I was thinking about the corrections from earlier this week--it's not my fault I got bamboozled by Tumblr's lies!Let me just say right here, right now, and without fear of contradiction that @Zero Esc's tumblr sucks. And that no one should ever, and I do mean EVER, consider even for a moment clicking on it.
(You know what you did, and there will be payback. One way or another.)
But now I know what you're talking about. I usually don't reblog those, but that one actually fooled me so I thought it deserved the praise
.They found a new way to get us with that new meme. The bastards.At first I was thinking about the corrections from earlier this week--it's not my fault I got bamboozled by Tumblr's lies!
But now I know what you're talking about. I usually don't reblog those, but that one actually fooled me so I thought it deserved the praise
They found a new way to get us with that new meme. The bastards.
I saw the weird al concert tonight. I've been waiting for this for literally over a decade where its never worked out until now.
So why is this in the rant thread?
My fiancee told me on monday that she isn't sure if she wants to be with me any more. I've had a negative attitude too much and its made her unhappy. I understand where shes coming from and we've had this discussion before. I've tried to be better but she said she's not sure if she wants to give me another chance. I don't know if theres anything i can say or do to save our relationship (over 5 years).
I thought the weird al concert would be a good way to take my mind off of things, and it was, but my mom asked me how she liked the concert (my mom bought tickets for us). So I had to tell her whats been going on and now my mom is crying which makes me feel like shit. Monday morning I would've said everything was going great for me, and now I feel like my life is a train wreck.
So why is this in the rant thread?
My fiancee told me on monday that she isn't sure if she wants to be with me any more. I've had a negative attitude too much and its made her unhappy. I understand where shes coming from and we've had this discussion before. I've tried to be better but she said she's not sure if she wants to give me another chance. I don't know if theres anything i can say or do to save our relationship (over 5 years).
I thought the weird al concert would be a good way to take my mind off of things, and it was, but my mom asked me how she liked the concert (my mom bought tickets for us). So I had to tell her whats been going on and now my mom is crying which makes me feel like shit. Monday morning I would've said everything was going great for me, and now I feel like my life is a train wreck.
Sorry buddy. That shit is hard to deal with. Do what you have to do if you don't want to lose her. Go get help with the negativity. I hope you have less heartache in your future.
figmentPez
Staff member
I got into a physical fight with my dad on Tuesday.
I've really been struggling this past year. My anxiety levels have been so high I've been having frequent panic/anxiety attacks. I just stopped going to at least one of my classes each semester. I just couldn't handle keeping up. My allergies keep getting worse and worse. Right now I can't stand for very long without getting dizzy and having tingling in my fingertips. If I don't force myself to breathe deeply and cough regularly, I get dizzy and the numbness in my fingertips even when I'm sitting down. I'm barely able to keep up with basic, day-to-day tasks, and I can't link it back to any repressed emotions. Talking about things helps the pain, but it doesn't help my energy levels. I can't deal with this the way I've dealt with my somatoform disorder, but my parents insist I'm being lazy and I don't want to make progress.
There's a highly toxic mold growing under my sink, because of a leak that my apartment complex didn't acknowledge was actually there for a couple of years, but I don't have the energy to tell that whole story right now (plus, I can barely use my right hand after the fight with my dad.) My parents acknowledge that the mold is a problem, but they refuse it admit that it could be a severe problem. They will not support me in seeing an allergist, and refuse to admit that I said I wanted to see an allergist before Tuesday, even though I said so in the one family therapy session they went to. A therapist they won't pay for anymore, because she dared to suggest anti-anxiety medication. My mother thinks anti-anxiety medications are worthless because she read an article from the quackery site Mercola on how anti-depressants are unreliable. There are two doctors they're willing to let me see, a "life coach" who has some sort of PhD in psychology, but whom I've never met before and have no idea if I'd be able to form a workable relationship with; and a mold specialist in Arizona, who may be a quack, but I'm only allowed to see her if I agree in advance to do whatever she tells me to, with no second opinion and to the letter, period. If I want to pursue any other sort of medical treatment, it has to be with my own money, and with no support from them. (And I have no car now, so I can't even drive to a doctor on my own.)
My mom invited me over to their house on Tuesday, to swim. I thought "hey, they're showing an interest in rebuilding my physical health. They actually support me." Nope! It was an ambush to force me to talk about their complaints with how little progress I've made. After they denied that I'd ever even mentioned seeing an allergist (something I've brought up numerous times since I was a teenager!), and tried to get me to commit to following a doctor's advice without even getting to discuss it, I was panicked. My anxiety was a 10/10, I was freaking out. So I told them I was leaving. They said that adults don't just avoid arguments, and I said they weren't listening, and adults don't subject themselves to abusive situations. I got my things and told them I was leaving.
I left the house and got into my car, and I really wish that I'd locked the door behind myself. My dad pulled open the door and tried to continue the conversation. I told him to let me leave, and when I tried to start the car he assaulted me. He grabbed my hand and tried to wrestle the keys from my grasp, and keep me from working the gear shift. At this point I was cornered, my anxiety levels were at a 10, and I'd been dealing with constant high anxiety for nearly a year. I panicked and started punching my dad in the forehead, I may have broken my hand doing so. I shouted at him to let me go, that I was leaving. He said that I was stealing his car. I had no intention of stealing it, I'd been using it for years, and my name is on the insurance, but when he said that, I decided I'd just walk. I think that my parents realized that they couldn't stop me, and they let me walk off, but they also called the police.
I walked over a mile, in 90+ degree heat, struggling to breathe, with my fingers and toes going numb, panicked because my dad wouldn't even let me have my apartment keys. I called around to friends until I found one who could come pick me up. I barely made it to the nearest gas station, and nearly passed out a couple of times on the way. As I was drinking the gatorade I bought there, a police offer pulled me outside for questioning. I was questioned, I told them the truth (because I didn't really give a shit about "don't talk to cops" at that point). They detained me, and I spent quite a while handcuffed in the back of a patrol car while they talked with my parents. My parents declined to press charges, and I was let go, and even got my apartment keys.
Today I got an email of a "to do list" from my parents. Some of their expectations are reasonable. Others are not. They put two months worth of rent in my bank account, and that's all I get. Any medical help beyond their two preselected doctors, I have to pay for myself. Any rent beyond two months, I have to pay for myself. I'm expected to go from barely able to take care of myself, to fully functional in a matter of weeks, and they don't care that I have no idea how to manage my health problems, and have been telling them for the last couple years that this is a problem beyond my ken, and that my problems are not responding the way my somatoform disorder did during my time in the hospital and in the step-down program.
They hold all the strings. My cellphone is on their plan. My mom's name is on my bank accounts. I have no car. My desktop computer, which is actually mine, is seven years old and shows signs of failing. My netbook doesn't have a working battery. I don't have a professional wardrobe because I've been gaining weight due to my health problems. I don't think I can even pack up my belongings to move by myself, let alone properly dust things so that I'm not dragging toxic mold allergens into another apartment.
I don't know what I should do.
I've really been struggling this past year. My anxiety levels have been so high I've been having frequent panic/anxiety attacks. I just stopped going to at least one of my classes each semester. I just couldn't handle keeping up. My allergies keep getting worse and worse. Right now I can't stand for very long without getting dizzy and having tingling in my fingertips. If I don't force myself to breathe deeply and cough regularly, I get dizzy and the numbness in my fingertips even when I'm sitting down. I'm barely able to keep up with basic, day-to-day tasks, and I can't link it back to any repressed emotions. Talking about things helps the pain, but it doesn't help my energy levels. I can't deal with this the way I've dealt with my somatoform disorder, but my parents insist I'm being lazy and I don't want to make progress.
There's a highly toxic mold growing under my sink, because of a leak that my apartment complex didn't acknowledge was actually there for a couple of years, but I don't have the energy to tell that whole story right now (plus, I can barely use my right hand after the fight with my dad.) My parents acknowledge that the mold is a problem, but they refuse it admit that it could be a severe problem. They will not support me in seeing an allergist, and refuse to admit that I said I wanted to see an allergist before Tuesday, even though I said so in the one family therapy session they went to. A therapist they won't pay for anymore, because she dared to suggest anti-anxiety medication. My mother thinks anti-anxiety medications are worthless because she read an article from the quackery site Mercola on how anti-depressants are unreliable. There are two doctors they're willing to let me see, a "life coach" who has some sort of PhD in psychology, but whom I've never met before and have no idea if I'd be able to form a workable relationship with; and a mold specialist in Arizona, who may be a quack, but I'm only allowed to see her if I agree in advance to do whatever she tells me to, with no second opinion and to the letter, period. If I want to pursue any other sort of medical treatment, it has to be with my own money, and with no support from them. (And I have no car now, so I can't even drive to a doctor on my own.)
My mom invited me over to their house on Tuesday, to swim. I thought "hey, they're showing an interest in rebuilding my physical health. They actually support me." Nope! It was an ambush to force me to talk about their complaints with how little progress I've made. After they denied that I'd ever even mentioned seeing an allergist (something I've brought up numerous times since I was a teenager!), and tried to get me to commit to following a doctor's advice without even getting to discuss it, I was panicked. My anxiety was a 10/10, I was freaking out. So I told them I was leaving. They said that adults don't just avoid arguments, and I said they weren't listening, and adults don't subject themselves to abusive situations. I got my things and told them I was leaving.
I left the house and got into my car, and I really wish that I'd locked the door behind myself. My dad pulled open the door and tried to continue the conversation. I told him to let me leave, and when I tried to start the car he assaulted me. He grabbed my hand and tried to wrestle the keys from my grasp, and keep me from working the gear shift. At this point I was cornered, my anxiety levels were at a 10, and I'd been dealing with constant high anxiety for nearly a year. I panicked and started punching my dad in the forehead, I may have broken my hand doing so. I shouted at him to let me go, that I was leaving. He said that I was stealing his car. I had no intention of stealing it, I'd been using it for years, and my name is on the insurance, but when he said that, I decided I'd just walk. I think that my parents realized that they couldn't stop me, and they let me walk off, but they also called the police.
I walked over a mile, in 90+ degree heat, struggling to breathe, with my fingers and toes going numb, panicked because my dad wouldn't even let me have my apartment keys. I called around to friends until I found one who could come pick me up. I barely made it to the nearest gas station, and nearly passed out a couple of times on the way. As I was drinking the gatorade I bought there, a police offer pulled me outside for questioning. I was questioned, I told them the truth (because I didn't really give a shit about "don't talk to cops" at that point). They detained me, and I spent quite a while handcuffed in the back of a patrol car while they talked with my parents. My parents declined to press charges, and I was let go, and even got my apartment keys.
Today I got an email of a "to do list" from my parents. Some of their expectations are reasonable. Others are not. They put two months worth of rent in my bank account, and that's all I get. Any medical help beyond their two preselected doctors, I have to pay for myself. Any rent beyond two months, I have to pay for myself. I'm expected to go from barely able to take care of myself, to fully functional in a matter of weeks, and they don't care that I have no idea how to manage my health problems, and have been telling them for the last couple years that this is a problem beyond my ken, and that my problems are not responding the way my somatoform disorder did during my time in the hospital and in the step-down program.
They hold all the strings. My cellphone is on their plan. My mom's name is on my bank accounts. I have no car. My desktop computer, which is actually mine, is seven years old and shows signs of failing. My netbook doesn't have a working battery. I don't have a professional wardrobe because I've been gaining weight due to my health problems. I don't think I can even pack up my belongings to move by myself, let alone properly dust things so that I'm not dragging toxic mold allergens into another apartment.
I don't know what I should do.
Are you on Medicaid or anything? It's shockingly easy to get on and they'd cover at least some of this stuff if they found it medically necessary. I mean, it wouldn't fix the fact that your parents are fucking scumbags but they can't stop you from going to a doctor on the government's dime... and if they try to stop you, then you know they don't actually give a fuck about your health.
It took me less than a month for the entire process. The hardest part for me was researching which care manager to pick to be sure I could use my old doctor. Yes, Obama was right... I DID get to keep my old doctor.
You should also look into government assisted housing and such.
She broke up with me.
On the plus side, at least this happened before you were married.
figmentPez
Staff member
I'll try to calm down enough to do this. I can't seem to get my anxiety down. I'm exhausted and I'm having trouble resting, let alone sleeping. I barely know what day it is, and I'm not thinking very well. I don't know what I need to do first, or how long I have to do it.
Pez, if things are that bad you might want to go to an ER. You do not need your parents' permission to seek medical care.
figmentPez
Staff member
I don't want to make the situation worse by racking up bills. I've already been worried about money for months, and this bomb my parents dropped on me has made it so much worse.
You'll excuse me if I paraphrase Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Young man, come here. There's plenty of money in the world. They print more of it every day. Now this Pez. There's only one of them in the whole world, and that's all there ever will be. (second part redacted... for now)
Sorry sir. I hope this just opens a door for something better in the future.
Listen to the crazy, ranting duck, @figmentPez. There is only one of you and we definitely don't want to lose you.You'll excuse me if I paraphrase Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
Young man, come here. There's plenty of money in the world. They print more of it every day. Now this Pez. There's only one of them in the whole world, and that's all there ever will be. (second part redacted... for now)
I am probably going to be crucified for this, but I don't see that his folks are scumbags. It sounds like they have a son that has mental issues and needs some help. On top of that was assaulted by said son. This is after paying for rent and food and I am guessing college? They sound like saints to me. I didn't realize parents are supposed to fix everything in our life and then treat us like independent adults. When you depend on others for aid, you automatically give up some autonomy. There are enablers out there that feed and shelter their destructive children when what they need is help (mental/physical) not more money/cushy lifestyle.
I feel bad for all the parties involved here. Maybe I don't know enough about the situation. Or maybe I'm just an insensitive dick.
I don't know who to root for, either, but it certainly sounds like nobody's particularly happy about the situation.
--Patrick
I think this sentiment sums it up. None of us are there. We know what we are told. However, pointing fingers at either party doesn't change the fact that Pez needs medical attention in one form or another. It doesn't help anyone to make assumptions about his parents or him.
Regardless, Pez needs to sever himself from his situation. Getting government aid would be a good start for that, especially in getting him out of his apartment and in to see a doctor. But ultimately it's on him to... well... deal with his problems.
So I have a rapala X-rap fishing lure that I wanted to practice with at the catch-and-release pond in Franklin Park near my house.
Every time I take this lure out, it gets snagged on my trunk apholstery or the fabric of the folding chairs. So I stick it in the front seat. Where it proceeds to slide down and get stuck in the fabric of the passenger seat, between the seat and the center console.
No problem, says I, and I grab my needlenose pliers to work it free. *Slip* go the pliers. Now I'm hooked, with my feet outside the car, bent over the passenger seat, and my right hand deep between the seat and the center console. I struggle like this for a good 10 or 15 minutes. Finally I work myself around so I can use my left arm to reach my tacklebox with the wirecutters, in the back seat. I get the wire cutters snaked down between the seats by feel (keenly aware of how fucked I'd be if my LEFT hand got hooked), get it around the base of the hook, and *snip* free the hook from the lure.
One look, and I know I'm not getting this hook out myself. The poor receptionist at the urgent care center looked more shook up than I felt.
Every time I take this lure out, it gets snagged on my trunk apholstery or the fabric of the folding chairs. So I stick it in the front seat. Where it proceeds to slide down and get stuck in the fabric of the passenger seat, between the seat and the center console.
No problem, says I, and I grab my needlenose pliers to work it free. *Slip* go the pliers. Now I'm hooked, with my feet outside the car, bent over the passenger seat, and my right hand deep between the seat and the center console. I struggle like this for a good 10 or 15 minutes. Finally I work myself around so I can use my left arm to reach my tacklebox with the wirecutters, in the back seat. I get the wire cutters snaked down between the seats by feel (keenly aware of how fucked I'd be if my LEFT hand got hooked), get it around the base of the hook, and *snip* free the hook from the lure.
One look, and I know I'm not getting this hook out myself. The poor receptionist at the urgent care center looked more shook up than I felt.
OUCH! That hurts me looking at it.One look, and I know I'm not getting this hook out myself. The poor receptionist at the urgent care center looked more shook up than I felt.
That's where the wirecutters came from. But I hate tying lures on every time I go out.
Guess what I'll be doing every time I got out from now on?