TheBanyanTree: This is just freakin' great

[Monique]

Ever have one of those days? Not me. Never. But maybe today. Perhaps.

Last night Stew called me, asked if he was going to die. Immediately, not
eventually. I reassured him that he wouldn't be dying anytime soon. 

Post-traumatic stress hit me last night. My brother's coming to town, at
least that's what he said last week -- and it doesn't even matter that this
is not the brother who molested me. That one's dead, this one wasn't even
born yet, this is the one who helps me, and maybe that's part of the
problem.

People aren't supposed to have to help me, that's supposed to be my JOB.

I'm the one who's supposed to keep things safe and secure for others. Keep
my father ignorant of his eldest son's abuses, serve as the family scapegoat
(what exactly IS a scapegoat anyway, is it some sort of exotic goat?)
because, after all, SOMEONE has to do it, so we'll let the youngest girl do
it because girls aren't, after all, as good as boys, and she's not that
strong anyway. And she has several glaring character defects and isn't
exactly someone you'd be proud to be seen with or anything like that.

Sorry, drifted off there for a minute. Sometimes it's good to get those
things right out there so one can move past it.

Where was I?

Stew has a migraine this morning. A severe migraine, and they've been
getting worse. I'm worried, of course I am. I told him to take, in addition
to his anxiety pills and aspirin or whatever, a trazedone, to help him
sleep. He was vomiting, that's how bad it was. When he answered the phone he
said he was dying.

I reassured him he's not dying, it only feels like it.

I hope he's managed to at least get comfortable enough that he can rest a
bit.

Anyway. I don't think my brother has time to see me until Friday, when he's
taking me out to dinner or something. Two days late for Cinco de Mayo, but
that's okay. My boyfriend's taking me out tonight -- he actually voluntarily
rearranged his guy's movie night so he could take me out instead. What a
guy. Why we must celebrate Cinco de Mayo is not quite understood, but I
think it's a good excuse to celebrate SOMETHING (family background
notwithstanding of course -- I may be Hispanic, but I'm not Mexican), and he
hasn't seen me for almost 24 hours now. Withdrawal may be setting in.

Anyway. I gotta get to Seattle. With any luck the post-traumatic stress
thing will die down and I'll return to normal parameters. I certainly hope
so. 

Monique