I’d like to acknowledge my happiness real quick.
Today I’m going to the library to print out my car insurance stuff and then I’m going to get a smog check, so in the next few days I’ll be able to 1. register my car, 2. apply for a new license, 3. change my address, and 4. register to vote. I’m becoming a Californian. I’m going to live where people who are brutally driven survive and people who aren’t don’t. I’m going to be part of the former. I’m probably the healthiest and happiest and most motivated I’ve been in my whole life. I’m so serious when I say luck has gotten me this far. Luck and a nice brain. But luck can only get me so far and it’s time for me to put in work. If I can move across the country and get a job + room, all while fighting with my best friend, then I can do anything!
I still think a lot about my grandma. I think about how bad things got between us. I think about how bad things got between my family and I. I think about why I hated everyone so much. And being away from that is just so fucking liberating. It was a hard enough thing to watch my grandma die without having to deal with my family. I realized that I couldn’t accept the way they behaved outside of the pictures they took for their stupid Facebooks. I couldn’t accept them. And so I told them I would be moving. And then I did, to their surprise. And now I’m here, actually living on my own, actually paying for a place, actually making money, and there’s nothing they can say about any of it.
That’s a big fuck you to everyone that thought I had gone insane. A big fuck you to everyone that thought I had forsaken my grandmother, when I was just struggling with depression and none of them gave a fuck or bothered to help or acknowledge it. A big fuck you to my oldest aunt for doing me dirty the entire fucking time and being an overall cunt and a big fuck you to her husband who molested me when I was a kid and continued to be a fucking creep throughout my life and a big fuck you to their son who will never amount to anything because he’s a fucking useless motherfucker.
If I could turn back time I would be there for myself. I would tell myself that things get better. I would tell myself that I’m doing the best I can. I would tell myself that grandma is dying and there’s no getting better, no matter how much you’re both hoping that’s the case – you, deep down, and her, every time she says, “If only I could walk again, I wouldn’t need you!” – so just let the frustration go. I would tell myself that people expecting her to die years before she does is a truly disgusting thing. I would tell myself to ignore my family and pour all the love I have into grandma, unabashedly. Tell her how much she means to me. Tell her how much I love her. Tell her how much it hurts to see her sick but that I’ll be with her and protect her until the end because I know her as well as I know myself. This woman made me, me.
And yeah I had gotten to the point where I was becoming my own person and, regardless of her health, our relationship would’ve changed. But it wouldn’t have gotten that bad and at the end of it, I can only hope that she knew how much I loved her. I would tell myself that I will never have a person like her again in my life. The person who raised me and loved me unconditionally. The person always on my side. So just appreciate it while I can, even if the decline is hard. It’s all that left now. So hold on. Be strong because you are strong. Make grandma proud and happy and comfortable while I can. The rest will fall into place.
But since I had no one to tell me those things, it got bad. And grandma couldn’t tell me those things because we were watching her die, together. And it was scary for her too. So much scarier. And I let both of us down because it was hard.
I’m just coming out of this tunnel now. But I’m coming like a bullet train, so everybody get the fuck out the way.