Day 12

This post is mostly angst ridden. Feel free to skip.

He is back off of life support.

And I will not be able to see him much over the next 2 weeks. Trips there almost every day has cripppled my finances and now with mortgage paid... it is either go to work or see my Uncle.

Seeing him right now scares me too.

2 Days ago when the life support was initially out and they took down his meds so that he could communicate... yeah... he is like a 4 year old at the moment.

I am the only one vocalizing the fact, and only silently to the wife, that my Uncle seems to have incredible brain damage. Now, what kind and for how long it will last I have no idea. It scares me.

Who can take care of him? My wife and I cannot... it is not possible with the size of our family.

My mother and sister cannot, their house is way too small and so is his place.

I feel like my family's entire world is spinning out of control... and to top it all off... we seem to have a leak in the plumbing at my house that we have to investigate. For all of the people telling me that God will take care of us... I still don't see it. Sorry, I keep looking up and I keep saying "If you are really there, please help us.." and there is nothing but silence and an entire ball of poo rolling down hill right at me.

I must be going mad... I am not sleeping well, nor am I eating well.

And honestly... the wife's birthday is around the corner and it seems that each year a shit storm hits us. I wonder if she will ever have a good birthday.

All I can do is keep moving forward. I tend to use this blog at times recently to vent as I try and keep it away from being in front of my mom and sister. They cannot see how absolutely broken I am when they are on thin strands themselves. I am trying to stay upbeat for their sakes. But honestly? I am crushed right now. I am so incredibly crushed.

When I walk through this someone will say "See, you weathered the storm. God was with you... he did not put more on you than you could handle."

I guess the only way I could prove them wrong is if I had died from a heart attack or killed myself... or perhaps began painting walls with my own filth.