NoJoMo – 28 The Morning After – Like no other

Last night, Grant and I decided to go to bed early. After a while, I determined I couldn’t sleep.
On my way to the bathroom… I heard my grandfather and Melba in their bedroom talking—at full volume.
I’m writing this entry from a hotel room in Tennessee. This was my last trip to Alabama.
The things I heard were enough to convince me of several things:
1.       These are not people I want in my life.
2.       These are people who say one thing to your face and another behind your back
3.       These people do NOT know the first thing about me—or my the people I love.
4.       These people live in the past – my disease is NOT a character flaw I can simply overcome by working a little harder a being “less selfish.”
5.       These people will be just fine if I never step foot in that house again.
 
I’ve expressed to my nearest and dearest the personal nature of the things said, but there is just no pain like being betrayed and feeling unloved by… well, grandparents. To hear them bash me… on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. 
 
So, this morning and this afternoon, I was graceful and polite. Then, this evening, Grant and I left. We made some excuse about traffic and wanting to see the mountains in the daytime. I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t ruin anyone else’s time. I simply made my exit, as quietly and quickly as possible.
 
Now all I have to do is figure out how to not become completely cynical. With a father who emotionally abandoned me when I was diagnosed, divorced my mother and left our family when he “got healthy” and started his new life, a b.p. mother, eight years with a sociopathic best friend, and a grandfather who wait until I’m sleeping in the next room to bash me and my mental status… it’s no wonder I don’t trust people. It’s also no wonder I don’t want to have a family, leave my house, interact with people, or… I don’t know… continue to live. Kidding. Mostly.
 
It’s been a long day. I’m going to sleep. More on this crap later.