**This is the last edition to the series of post that discusses my week, which at this point was last week. I'm so glad that crazy week in now in the past, and I can now hopefully create better results this week. So far, I'm at a pretty good start.**
Wednesday morning, I asked one of my sisters to read to me. I didn't ask her to read a comic strip from the morning paper, or one of the historical front page articles about President-Elect Obama's victory. I asked her to read one of the chapters in the textbook that I teach out of.
As usual, not being a morning person, my sister sluggishly drug herself out of bed to help me. In the midst of her reading, she and my other sister got into their usual shouting match. Next thing I knew, my sister, the reader, closed the book and marched to her room, stating that she wasn't going to read.
I was stunned by her decision to not read for me, especially since I hadn't done anything to her. I was also tripped out because my sister knew that she was reading something for me that I needed that day, not later on. I called for her to come back. But she refused.
After she refused, I went into a rage. Tears poured from my blind eyes as I thought about how unfair it was for someone, a physically able person, to deny someone with a disability assistance, just because they were pissed off.
With every second, I begin to feel helpless, hopeless, and betrayed. The tears rolled down my face even more.
And then, the hurt that I was feeling switched to rage when I thought about all the things that I do for my sisters, things that they can certainly do for themselves, in the name of love and support. I got pissed that the people who live in the home that me and my disabled mother provide would even consider withholding disability related assistance. I begin to scream, curse, and cry more.
This was truly a first for me. I'm not a physically aggressive person at all. I've never been in a fight in my life, even before I lost my sight. It's just not me.
This is why I resent all of the conflict, fussing, tension, and fighting that goes on here at my house. While it may be my mother and sisters' style of managing conflict, it is not mine. I honestly prefer to keep quiet at all cost. The only reason I get involved in many of the conversations around here is to referee fights, defend my mother, and because my money is involved in many of the issues here at this house.
I love my folks. But I look forward to living alone. And it's not for the selfish reasons that they want to live alone. They want to live alone so that they can do what the hell they want to do, so they don't have to follow rules, or respect our sick mother. I want to live alone, just so I can have a little peace.
Part of the reason why I stay up at night is because that is the only time my house is quiet. It's a shame that the early morning hours is the only time that I can enjoy the sweet music of silence. Otherwise, as soon as the folks in my house start waking up, fussing also rises with them. (It's 5:20 AM. I've been up since midnight.)
I'm kind of reluctant to post this on my blog. I don't want my folks to get mad at me. But they stay mad at me anyway. Plus, this entry is a reflection of the absolute truth. And it is also documentation of the life I live.
My friend, Chad, asked me if my sisters move out who will help me and my mother with some of the things that requires good physical abilities. I told him that I would like to think that my family would be willing to assist us without being residents of our house. Families do that all the time... If there is someone in the family that needs a ride to the store, the person comes and takes them to the store. Why do me and my mother need a live in to help us out from time to time?
I also reminded Chad that people with disabilities, even blind people, live alone and effectively manage their homes. I also told him that people with disabilities marry and have children.
For the most part, I understand that living alone would be a challenge. But what aspect of my life is not a challenge?
I'm confident that I could do it. I did it the entire time I was in college. Yes, I lived on campus. But I lived alone. And each everything that I needed assistance with, I just called on someone to come over and help me. I imagine that's what I would have to do if I lived alone here in Houston.
"My God will supply all of my needs according to His riches in glory." Phil. 4:18
That's one of my favorite scriptures. I cling to it. Because no matter what, while my sisters, my daddy, my mother, and friends have all been helpful, I realize that my help comes from the One above. I realize that He inspires and motivate my folks to offer themselves up as helpers. And I'm certain that if none of them were around to help, God would send someone else. That's how He works.
**Believe it or not, I left some very poignant details about other experiences that I had last week. But I don't have the energy to re-lieve them. Perhaps I will later touch on them in a future post.
In closing, I sho' pray that this week is a better week than last week. I can't take another week like that.
By the way... Right now, while I'm writing this post, I'm listening to the Smooth R&B channel on my Comcast Music Choice. Vivian Green's Emotional Roller Coaster is playing in the background. That song captures the feeling that I experienced last week.
Peace and blessings,
angie**
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