Thursday, 11/03/05 - 9:57 pm.
I went to bed so, so angry last night, because of my friends, that I couldn't help cutting myself. Part of me, though, was relieved to find that my blade wasn't sharp anymore. Still, in the morning I woke up with red lines on my arm.
But that's the least of my worries. My mom's in the hospital. My dad woke me and my brother up at 1 am, because my mom was feeling sick, and was throwing up. She couldn't move, and she wouldn't even answer the questions. I'm scared to move, she'd said. And for the first time in my life, I heard her agree on getting help. She's not one to take medicines, let alone go to a hospital.
She'd been getting dizzy very often lately, but that's been happening for a couple of years now. I was desperate, because I didn't know what to do. I could only see her sitting tightly on her bed, refusing to move, throwing up water on a bedsheet, with her eyes closed. I was desperate, thinking that if I'd been in that situation, she would've already made a hundred and one things to try to make me feel better.
It took my dad and brother nearly an hour to get her in the car and drive to the hospital. I'd never seen my dad take care of my mom, and I realized he's the one who needs her, and I feared that this would be like in the movies, where the spouse that looks after the other dies first. I hated that thought. I haven't even seen that in a movie.
I suffered regressions, and I felt like a child about to lose her mom. Especially when they drove away and I stayed home alone, at nearly 2 am. I turned on the TV for a while, but I could only find a cops show, and they were solving the case of a woman who murdered her old mother and put the body in a trashcan. It sickened me, and I had to turn to Mtv.
An hour later, my brother came back alone. My dad stayed with my mom. They went to the E.R., but as I later found out, they didn't check her in until 4 am. So much for an emergency. It's always like that here.
When I woke up at 7:30, I realized I wouldn't have milk waiting for me, so I went and prepared it, for me, my dad and my brother. It was surreal, not having my mom; she's the one who's up at 6:30 am. My brother and I went to the university, as usual, knowing we wouldn't have news until noon.
I went to the psych lab to work on the Culture of Violence research due tomorrow, but I was kicked out at 10, because of an activity to be held there. I did some stuff around campus, but the whole time, I just wanted to cry. I felt so lonely, and worried, and abandoned. Because at this time, I was still mad at my friends, for leaving everything for the last minute. Or worse, leaving it to me.
A while before I went for lunch, I saw Joe. Well, he came into the cubicle, where I was. He cheered me up, although I know he didn't notice I was nearly crying, let alone I had cuts on my arm. Just seeing him made me feel better, because I'd been feeling abandoned since my dad woke me up at 1 am. I mean, these emergencies always seem to happen in the middle of the night, and to my perception, we were isolated from any help.
I asked Joe why he was all in black. He looked handsome actually, and sometimes when I look at his face -it's really pretty-, I have feelings for him (still). He said he had a performance at noon, and afterwards I'm going to the a friend's mother's funeral. That made me uneasy, but I tried to show no emotion. In spite of that, he definitely made my day, and made me feel less alone.
My lunch was at Burger King, just because I was feeling self-destructive (as one could tell from my cutting). I got a phone call from Joseph when I was entering the restaurant. He said he could come and have lunch with me, but I had to go to the 45-minute-away town and he wouldn't make it on time. You sound mad, are you?, he asked. No, no, I'm sad...see, my mom's in the hospital. It was the first time I'd mentioned that to anyone. It was weird. He said "fuck".
After lunch, I went to meet to go to the town. But to my surprise, I ran into Patch. YES, PATCH! My good old high school friend, who happens to be majoring in psychology, too, except in a different university. What we talked about is unimportant (at least for now), but I considered finding him, after over a year of not seeing him, another sign that I wasn't alone.
When I met up with the guys, I told Michelle, and then Victor about my mom. But they also seemed to have their own problems. That's a constant in my life, whenever I have a problem, everybody else around me does. Regardless, they showed concern and gave me their deepest sympathy, and that was enough for me. We left for the town at 12:30, got to the school and interviewed parents.
Michelle noticed my cuts and asked me, very naturally, why I cut myself; I said I didn't know. She didn't have to know it was because I was angry and disappointed at her and the rest of the gang. At the time, I was pretty much over it. She went on about a show in which a girl got a tattoo because she once had an eating disorder, and she'd cut her stomach to mask the pain, and now she wanted to cover the scars. But that was it. We interviewed some more, and we came back to campus at 5:30.
I called my dad. He didn't give me much information, except that my mom was stable and the dehydration had been stopped (see, aside from feeling dizzy, she was becoming dehydrated...what the fuck?). Then I found Joseph, who looks very handsome with a haircut, finally has his ID, and got a laptop. I'll be installing [Microsoft] Word in it, just in case you need to use my computer one day. He's a good guy, isn't he?
He's been having good days, with his new "job" and all, so he treated me to cookies and then to coffee. I told him about what had happened last night with my mom, and we spent most of our time talking about our parents, who have a lot in common. His and mine seem to have gone beyond "love", and now they just "need" each other. It's both sad and cute, and I fear getting there one day.
That's been pretty much it. My mom is spending the night at the hospital, but we still don't know what's up with her feeling sick. I was scared it could be a tumour or something, because seriously, what does nauseas have to do with dehydration? Sure, you throw up, but it doesn't explain that she gets rid of water both ways.
I'm concerned about both my mom and dad. My dad needs her to function, even though I always thought he was just being dominant. I was worried about him having dinner tonight, because he can't even turn on the kitchen. Luckily, my sister bought some fried chicken for all of us. But traditional gender roles are calling me, and I'm assuming I'll have to be the one to look after him while my mom is absent.
Long days await me, and I must get back to work. Thank you for your attention.
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