The 2 weeks that just f*cking sucked

Not really a rant, so I didn’t bother with the Pit. Thus, the censored MPSIMS topic.

From the WTF is going on file, the last two weeks of my life. Hell, I’ll start three weeks back:

Wednesday, January 1st: While swerving to avoid a car that cut me off on the freeway, I cut off a Nissan Pathfinder that subsequently loses control and rolls. No one is hurt and the police just list me as a witness as it was the Civic who caused the mess, but it understandably frays a few nerves.

Tuesday, January 7th: One of my student’s brothers (age 19) is shot and killed by police when he unwisely waves a gun at them following a chase.

Sunday, January 12: A 4th grader from my school is killed in a car accident, ejected from her car when her mom loses control of the high-profile SUV in high desert winds. Later that evening, the 3-year-old younger brother of one of our students is hit by a a car and killed.

Tuesday, January 14: We are notified that someone is using our credit cards fraudulently. The police report is filed for identity theft. Over the next several days, several more compromised cards pop up and all account numbers are changed. No lasting damage of any kind, but a hassle and a half. I came home ready to cry and grieve for my grandmother last Friday and had to deal with another round of stressful phone calls relating to this. Repeat for Tuesday the 20th.

Thursday, January 16: My grandmother dies. That’s pretty much enough for any week, month, or year. :frowning:

Wednesday, January 22: Henry, my pet corn snake, is taken to a vet hospital, most likely never to be returned. His cancer is back. He’s “just” a snake…but it broke my heart.

Later that day, I go to ride my horse. She seems a bit dull, then coughs up a storm when I trot her under saddle. She’s sick. Thankfully, there’s not fever–it’s just a cold–but frick. It’s just something else.

Today, Friday January 24: The letter I sent to my grandmother while she was still in the hospital…the letter where I say my goodbyes, my I love yous, my I Thank God For Yous…is returned to me. She never saw it. :frowning: It said the address was incorrect, but I don’t understand. I called the hospital and got it directly from them. I’d told my parents to please bury the letter with her if it came after, but I couldn’t even do that. Now I have this heart breaking piece of paper back at my home.

The other night I went to bed and had the weirdest reaction. Right as I was falling asleep, I started crying. Then I started sobbing. It’s like as soon as I stopped, it all caught up with me.

I can’t wait for February.

{{{{Ruffian}}}}

Damn, I hope your February is way better. Take care.

ruffian, you are to start the year over again when chinese new year is celebrated.

january can be the cruelest month. if i get through january without a funeral i nearly throw a party at midnight, feb. 1st.

i hope the year of the goat is better for you.

{{{ Ruffian }}}

{{{{Ruffian}}}}

Ruffian, I’m so sorry for all you’ve been through lately. Here’s hoping everything starts looking up soon!

What a mess. I’m so sorry.

Seems like your reaction was pretty normal given everything that happened. You keep it together and keep it together and keep it together, and then when there’s nothing left to keep it together for, that’s when it all comes out. Good for you for letting it.

Ruffian, I am really sorry you’ve gone through all of this, especially with your grandmother.

I do appreciate all of your sympathy. It’s just been surreal…so odd that it would all happen at once. The world is a big place, and there are certainly far worse weeks to have, but it’s weighed rather heavily on me.

My dad, who has Parkinson’s, stayed behind after the funeral in Ohio (where his mother/my grandmother lived) in that horrible snowstorm Tuesday. He wouldn’t hear of coming back. My mom, who still works, had to get back, but he wouldn’t come back with her. You have to keep in mind, with my dad’s disease plus his literally crippling back injury, he can barely dress himself. He can barely walk by himself–and he demands to stay behind?! Without his doctors, without his caretakers?? But there’s no telling him no. I told my mom my hubby and I would be willing to come out in a few months to help clean out the house, but dad is too obsessed with getting it All Done Now.

So unbelieveably, they sold her house Wednesday. As in less than a week after she died. I was infuriated by this–they’d already had 4 offers on her home! Where the hell did all those vultures come from?! They hardly let her body go cold before they came sniffing around. And my dad just let them have the house.

I was rather looking forward to seeing the house one last time, helping clean, pack it up, and essentially say good bye to the memories. My grandparents lived in that house for more than 50 years, and in a matter of a few days, all that history is over. I’m not sure what to make of it.

I’m so sorry about all this. I really hope the rest of the year gets much better for you.

{{Ruffian}} I don’t know what to say - I thought I had a crappy day yesterday, but this kind of puts things into perspective. I’d read all your threads as they happened, but I never added them all up…I’m sorry that you’re having such a tough time, but things will get better soon!

I’m so sorry, Ruffian. I can relate to most of this. I’m not going to go on about it, but you have my address and please email me if you want to talk to someone who understands. Particularly about the selling of the house so quickly thing and why it is so distressing for you.

As far as the letter…I have heard that if there are things you needed to say and the person isn’t here to SAY them to, it helps to write a letter and then burn it. It is symbolic, I guess, but it seems that the smoke ascending to the sky feels as though your thoughts and words are winging their way to your loved one. I’ve never done this myself, but I do know people who have…and they say it gave them peace.

Love you, darling…be well. Hug that LLama guy and know that your gram was happy that YOU are so happy.

My Love,

Cheri