The Sad, Sad Truth

It's been awhile since my last blog.  Too much has happened and it hurts to be reliving it through this post.  For starters I failed miserably at trying to slit my wrists open after Jay antagonized me and told me to off myself.  I didn't need his encouragement because I had already planned to do it when I found out I might be homeless for the third time in my life.  He called the police and played innocent as always and then didn't bother to bring me things I needed while in the behavioral health unit.  Being in the BHU was actually like a vacation away from everything hurtful I had ever experienced.  As a Borderline I am a frequent and well-known patient at our local psychiatric ward.  I have been there four times in the past two years.  I know that sounds pathetic but it's what I know and have known for a large portion of my life.  I had a blast laughing with other patients until I realized I wasn't really funny I was a bully just like them.  The last time I was there Jay was concerned and compassionate actually willing to work on ourselves and our living situation.  This time he visited for all of fifteen minutes and then got piss drunk at the bar and then came home to download porn on the only working computer we have.  I find it hard to understand why most clinicians cannot differentiate between situational depression where my environment and home life are what make me dig into myself and clinical or chemical depression where I'm simply imbalanced.  The doctor found it hard to believe I was laughing and enjoying myself after trying so hard to end my life.  When triggers and verbal abuse along with living with an addict are taken away even for a short period of time I am actually quite a happy person.  The reality is I have a shitty home life, a shitty family, and a failing support system.  I came home to a disastrous apartment with Jay so far out of his mind that I regretted immediately making the decision to leave the hospital.  Since then things have steadily gone downhill.  I didn't get rent money from Robert so I played telephone with my family praying someone would assist us.  Instead I got my step-father barking at me and trying to blame all my family's fuck-ups on me.  I retorted with the fact that according to my grandmother he reportedly was the one that molested me to which he promptly told me my grandmother would never say such a thing and that I was known to be a liar.  Truth be told I am in every sense of the word honest when asked or prodded and I would never lie unless it was to protect myself from a dangerous situation real or imagined.  My brilliant failure of an uncle took it upon himself to heap even more hurtful words into the situation and told me that I don't have a "handle" on life.  By the grace of God I had our counseling service give us money so that I would not yet again wind up homeless.  Jay can always go home to his family if something were to happen, I on the other-hand, will have to take to the streets and sleep by the creeks or the river.  I don't want to go through something so horrendous and have every intention of ending my life if it comes to that.  Last weekend Jay invited his alcoholic friend over and they remained wasted on whiskey for four days straight with me crying and begging him to be reasonable.  I had no idea someone could black out and still participate in a conversation but Jay is anything but ordinary.  He cut his leg up badly after a shoving match between him and his friend and I wound up sitting in the emergency room while he was bandaged and given a tetanus shot.  It wasn't how I wanted to spend my holiday but I tried to remain supportive.  Jay went straight home and got wasted again.  This weekend has been just as hellish.  In an attempt to restore sanity to the household I poured out his new bottle of whiskey only to have him pulverize my treasured Kindle with his fists.  The Kindle split in half and apparently the insurance does not cover accidental or intentional damage.  Next time I won't even bother purchasing the insurance because it's ineffective.  Earlier in the week Robert and I fought with him saying he was going to find a way to divorce me because I took his charge card and bought a gift card in order to buy food and gasoline.  Robert reluctantly changed his mind and didn't call the bank to cancel the card.  Now I am waiting on the card to arrive in the mail tomorrow through Wednesday so that Jay can get to and from work.  He hasn't thanked me once.  Not once for putting my meager friendship with Robert on the rocks so that he could continue to drink and waste money on video games.  I realize how fucked-up I sound and how ludicrous the situations I have allowed myself to be dragged down into are, but I am doing my best to survive until I am granted my disability and able to leave everyone else behind.  It won't be a lot of money but it will be enough to get a place of my own where everyday is not some sort of battle. The past few weeks haven't been all bad or pure insanity some good things have pierced through but they never seem to be enough.  I reconnected with an old friend and started attending church again.  I'm even helping teach a group of children about God in what we call Very Exciting Bible School.  I feel like a joke.  I feel like my prayers are answered with the bare minimum response from God and somehow I just barely skate by in my existence.  How can I possibly teach a child the parable of the prodigal son when I feel like and probably am an abandoned daughter?