For those wondering where I have been, still pretty close to the end of my rope. Immediately after getting out of the hospital with my broken ankle in December, I made inquiries about having some work done around the property. At the time some of it was basic stuff like taking out the trash which I now can do, but also many repair-type jobs I can't.
At one time I could always get help with carpentry, etc., because there were several wonderful handymen in town, who have all since died or retired. My regular one for 12 years passed away in October 2014 and I've been struggling since. Then the state changed the laws so that anyone doing a job over $500.00 has to be licensed and bonded for like a million dollars. The one good remaining worker then left the state. (I have lived in the same small town, small county for nearly 50 years.) Incidentally, you can't get a good contractor around here either. Most of them don't answer inquiries in the first place, or do once and you never see them again. The house badly needs painting and we've been unable to have that done.
My inquiries resulted in only one name. This guy said he would have to stop at some point due to needing two major surgeries. The only reason they didn't do them now was due to his blood condition. Half the time he didn't show up either due to his own health or that of someone in his family. This went on for months as his surgery kept getting put off, but at least some things were getting done around here. Not as much or as well as with my good handyman, but I felt at least not at a total standstill. So at some point the older of my two younger sisters, the one who has always considered me defective, found out how much he was getting paid. I hadn't paid too much attention to Mom's complaints as she was raised in the Depression when wages were 25¢ an hour, also we hadn't added it up. Well, my sister came down with a friend to do a sort of intervention and they had Mom add it up. We were appalled and I still figure he must have charged three hours for every one he worked--no way was he physically present that many hours let alone did that much worth of work! It was a little short on evidence of being able to have him criminally charged though we looked into it.
So now my sister who has for about 45 years sworn there is something seriously wrong with me (after she found the symptoms of Asperger's Syndrome I was diagnosed) has even more ammunition and more control over everything I do! Meanwhile I can do about half the stuff that needs to be done (if that--and I get very tired--) and have no help!
I was hoping to get as much as possible squared up around the house and yard now while I am physically capable, but I have lost a lot of incentive since nothing I do comes to any good and people still always bitch, the same as when people used to tell me to get a job, so I'd get one, and then I had twice the problems. Not only could I not do things at home or other important activities such as writing, but now I had a boss and coworkers bitching at me and making me feel twice as worse as before. (I have been on disability since 2009--this is another thing which worries me--not only is it not enough, but no one with any chance of being elected president this year promises to be exactly well disposed to people in my situation.)
The other night while channel flipping (I've been unable to read since spring, too nervous) I watched a few scenes from Stand By Me--one of the all-time great movies among great movies, but it made me incredibly sad. I caught the scene where Gordie is talking about giving up on writing because "it's a stupid waste of time." This is something I thought I'd never do, but in the last four years I've simply been forced to admit that taking into account the works of Ray Bradbury, Stephen King, and many others, anything good I'd have said has been said better by someone else, in several cases before I was born, and I don't have time to even READ all the good books! I've even read a few recently which were bad (by authors whose other books were good but had an off book) and realized I couldn't even have written something the caliber of those let alone their good works! This is a real problem because I've spent at least 45 years of a 55-year existence excusing things going wrong by being a misunderstood genius and I would make it all up when I succeeded in writing. Now I almost feel I don't have the right to watch a good movie because it won't influence success of my own.
I also watched the scene of Gordie's nightmare at the cemetery where his father said, "It shoulda been you." This hits uncomfortably close for my family because my dad had an older brother who was literally their blond-haired, blue-eyed boy--about to graduate high school at 13 because he was so smart--who died suddenly. My sister thinks Dad got the message his parents felt it should have been him (his mother was so devastated she died herself a few months later), and that's why all our lives, nothing was ever good enough and he always had something to prove. He considered my sisters the "real kids" of the family while I was just something that didn't turn out. By far the most painful scene in Stand By Me is Gordie breaking down sobbing, "My dad hates me, I'm no good." I saw the movie on TV with Mom after seeing it in the theater, and when it came to that scene Mom was staring at me as she'd heard me make the exact same speech with the exact same tears.
Over the years, other people have believed in me, such as teachers, and Ray Bradbury, whose encouragement was unwavering. All I wanted was to prove worthy of their belief. I now feel bad for all of them. With Ray Bradbury in particular I lost the last person I truly wished to impress. (My sisters wouldn't be against my succeeding but impressing them is not a major goal.) If I could even work part-time it would help but there is nothing I can do which anyone would pay me for! My last job was listing eBay items for a guy who never paid me. My counselor is trying to make me feel guilty claiming I can do everything around here myself. I can't. Even the stuff I can do is getting done way slow as I am discouraged and exhausted.
I could live with it if allowed to live quietly without my situation really changing, but the problem is I live with my Mom and am absolutely freaking out at her approaching 90th birthday. Everything which goes wrong seems to prove I can't live here alone after she's gone, even if I could afford it. My sisters are sending contradictory messages, expecting me to keep the place in shape for them and yet getting upset when I spend money on things I can't do and complaining on how much room my stuff takes in the house. At one point I spent a lot of time in the basement but since breaking my ankle I have difficulty negotiating the stairs and I don't see any of these situations getting better as I get older, yet I am too young and healthy to just die. Therefore I am discouraged. The sad thing is I feel unable to enjoy anything as I should be doing something else, and anyhow I have proven unworthy and don't deserve it. I just feel I have no place in this world.