What has become of ROB? · 6:04am Jan 30th, 2017
So, as weird as it sounds, I've not been right in the head for some time now. Although the manic attitude and alcohol abuse wasn't enough of a give away, I've not been doing well. It's hard to say when it all started, but well... the worst of the downhill slope happened around the middle of September 2016. Why can't I remember the actual date? Because since then I try to not think about it. I try to just let it go, and let it be. Are you ready for this? Because I'm sure as fuck not.
My cat, Dixie, aka Shit Pot, died.
Now, most of you don't even have a clue as to who I'm talking about, while closer friends of mine know all to well the exploits of the Shit Pot and me.
Since 2004, Dixie was my cat, and always with me. She couldn't get along with other cats, so she was secluded to the upstairs of the house myself, my sister, mother, and grandmother share. So she was with me through a lot of things. A lot of growing up, lots of trouble, heartaches, and anything else that mattered. Dixie always knew when I was upset, or mad, or just sad. She also loved my fascination with my records. She'd sit there with me for hours every evening as I drank myself to sleep, just being there for me.
Now, this point you're probably just like "Well yeah, it sucks but you're really troubled over your cat that died months ago?"
No, no that was just the ice berg to this Titanic.
After her death, I started having health issues. I had a, what my doctor told me, severe anxiety attack. Anxiety was something alien to me, I didn't understand it. All I knew what my body felt like it was shutting down and dying, and that I was on the verge of collapse. Between my work and stress at home, I formed anxiety, and since then it has been borderline debilitating to me. Growing up, I was taught mostly by my father that you couldn't let your mind win in games like that. You had to just grin and bare through it, and push on. But after that attack, how do you? How do I? This was all new to me, and to this day I'm still suffering from it.
Amidst all that, lets take another step back. Back to a day when we were all six years younger, and more naive.
Before My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic was a part of our lives.
That's right, my train wreck of a situation began shortly after I started watching the show. I got into the series at the Season 1 finale, so I didn't have a lot to go on when it came to fan fiction writing. Before MLP I was writing mostly in the VG Cats community, and before that I wrote my own stories on typewriter.
The actual story of me getting into the fandom isn't all that tell worthy, however, several months into it, an incident happened that changed the lives of my family.
I want to say August of, shit it had to be 2011, my grandmother that lived with us had a massive stroke. She'd been living with us for about three years at that time, before that she only would come up during the warm seasons here in Michigan, otherwise lived the winter seasons in South Carolina or Florida. Anyway, for those three years she was an active lady in her later 80's, and we went to thrift stores all the time and had a fun time. If you have ever read Horizon's "Never the Final Word", you'll recognize my name there at chapter 19. My grandmother was a huge inspiration to my love of classic music, mostly big band and swing, and she helped me collect them.
And then one day, she didn't feel so good. And then she had a stroke.
Within the span of a week, she went from a functioning 80 something to unable to talk, walk on her own, stand on her own, or really much of anything. It was such a drastic decline that myself, my mother and sister just didn't know what to do. So, we did what she wanted us to. "Keep her at home until she passed." Now, what I'm about to say hasn't been shared with many, so the fact that I'm saying this in a blog post right now is probably gonna throw off some people, but My Little Dashie wouldn't happen until almost a month after my grandmother's stroke.
MLD was hugely a creation of me venting off frustration and depression over my grandmother's decline.
It doesn't seem like it, but that is a fact. Yes, Opposite Bro's comic was the main inspiration, and yes I was sleep deprived from working for my brother in law, but ultimately the main source of its feeling was from my grandmother.
So, just keep that in thought, for five seconds if you would. Good, now make it five minutes. Then five years.
That's right, my grandmother, stroke after stroke, still lived in our house, taken care of by us. By "us", I mostly mean my older sister and my mother, because I was young and dumb doing what I wanted because apparently I was privileged or some crock of shit. That shit gets filed later under "Alcohol abuse" once I turn 21, which happens half a year after my grandmother's stroke. If you've never cared for an elderly before, then you're fortinute, because it is a constant chore. Every day, several times a day. There is a phrase my father taught me when I was young, "once a man, twice a child." That was the very case here.
For five years, my house was in a constant standstill of the same routine. My mother worked her newspapers, herself in her 60's, late at night. My sister going to school for nursing, later actually working the program at three different hospitals. Then myself, trying then failing out of college, then my own newspaper route, then finally working at the airport my father works at. But all between that, we had to take care of her. It was so daily to us, so normal years on that we just became numb to it. My sister gave up all hope of ever living a life. My mother had no fuse left, and lost her temper constantly and couldn't handle even the smallest bit of stress... and then there I was, drinking myself to death sleep every night.
But why?
Because apparently I was to be entiteld. Entitled to whatever I wanted to do, whenever I wanted. It took me a couple years to realize that it was a crock of shit, and I tried to step in and help more and more. But they just pushed me away more, and my sister came to resent, and I dare say hate me for it. She was forced at a young age to take care of things, and as I learned later on, almost raised me as if I was her own. That is not life, that is not the way one should live. And yet, that's what happened. So that only fueled my alcohol abuse more and more. Meanwhile, I'm writing on and off here on fimfic. Because of reasons.
So, that process goes on until, this month of January, the year 2017. The second week into the new year, my grandmother stops eating or drinking. It's so sudden and drastic, that it's a couple days before we realize "oh wait, she hasn't ate or drank anything."
She refuses to take anything we give her, and very quickly loses the last traces of strength she had. She can't stand, so I have to hold her up next to her bed so she can be changed and cleaned ever day. We finally get hospice involved, because they wouldn't until things got bad, and on Wednesday the 18th if I'm to be correct, she passed away. I had just left the house to go down to my pole barn to work on a friends' fathers' brakes on his car, and I got the call. I had just walked out of the house, and she passed. My mother woke my sister, who was dead tired from studying and waking up every two hours to give my grandmother her morphine shot.
So there we were... all lost and just... would it be wrong to say relieved? Because, it was a long time since this all started. Our lives had changed, mostly for the worse but we tried to look on the bright side of things. And yet, we were all sad. But I couldn't cry. Why? Why couldn't I cry? I barely cried when Dixie died, so what was it?
The answer came when I looked to my records.
Several months ago, a good friend of mine you may recognize as Anonpencil sent me a special gift one day. It was an original record of Edith Piaf's "La Vi En Rose". One of my favorite songs, and a song I remember my grandmother sharing with me many, many years ago.
So now, I sit here, with that record playing. I've finally gotten over the fact of Dixie's death, and adopted another cat in need. His name is Grayson, he's already pushing seven years old but playful as ever. He's sitting in what was once Dixie's chair beside me.
This entire blog was probably a jumbled mess of text, but I've just... I've not been right for a long time, and so it was time I finally let it all out. Since Dixie's death I haven't written much of anything, but I'm finally getting back into it. Whittler chapter is looking good, as well as another one shot I've got lined up, but we will see.
So I apologize that I'm taking so long... just I'm trying to recover, and refresh myself. Give me some time, and hopefully I'm not a lost cause.
I'm so sorry Alex. Really I am. I can't relate to that on any level, all except that my uncle died a few days ago. I too did not cry, he was distant. I realized a few weeks ago that based off of My Little Dashie: you must've been going through tough times. I felt bad for not realizing years earlier. But I thought all of that remorse had been long gone. Only to find out just know that if anything it had only gotten worse over the years.
I don't think anything I tell you can help anything, but I do hope that things get better for you. You mean a lot to me, and you mean a lot to all of us. You gave us something to smile about. We may not know you personally, but you have done wonders to make my life, as well as many others, better.
Here's hoping to a better 2017. Take care man.
Rdasher12
Bro, I'm always here if you need to talk. You got my number, so hit me up via that if you want someone to vent/chat with. I'm always on skype/discord, same with fimfic, too.
I can help you on that oneshot if you need someone to bounce ideas off of, too.
Ditto.
I know the pain of losing loved one.
You always have a friend to talk to.
~Skeeter The Lurker
We're here to listen.
Sometimes, you have to vent. And you seemed like you had to get a lot off of your chest.
And like others have said, I'm always around to talk. Unless I'm asleep. I don't talk much when I asleep.
Glad you were able to get all this out and really figure out what was going on in your life. I hope things work out for you, man.
We are here for you. If you need someone to talk to then we will listen. It is always terrible to see people suffer and I would always like to try to help them. Hopefully life eases up on you this year.
You're Not.
not in the slightest
I don't really know what to say... but you certainly needed this vent, if for nothing else than just to get some things off your chest.
Life's not all sunshine of rainbows, I've lost family too, but what you went through... I felt stressed just from reading about it. I can't even begin to imagine what it was to you.
Needless to say, for what it's worth, we're here for you.
I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry for your pain.
I say the following not to dismiss your trials but to impress upon you that you are not alone: Everyone's journey is littered with suffering. I myself have endured the crucible again and again and I still travel onward.
You can survive this. You will survive this.
I believe in you.
Time for yourself is necessary, and good. Take care of yourself, and we'll be here.
I'm always here for you man. I'm happy you were able to vent and get things off your chest. You've got a ton of us who care about you. You da bess
You should really seek help for depression, if you don't already have a psychiatrist. Take it from one who knows.
Dude. Bro.
/hugs
I've been through a lot of similar shit too, and a lot of the same feels. I'm right there with ya.
dude I may be late for reading this, since I was busy with personal stuff, like my computer broke, packing away my game consoles (my mother wants me to sell some of it). etc... look man, if readers like myself, writers like Bendy, crunchy, Snu (pronounce like Snoo), Jay the Stormtrooper,, or even anyone like Mikesnipe, Anonpencil, Maybe Redshirt, and the rest from the H.I.E. Podcast, we are here for you,, well except for the certain dirtbags and trolls that the discord group gets now and then. we are all here for you, even if we are a-holes or fucking around. everybody everypony, and everthing you met on Fimfiction.net and on the discord group(s) we care about you, and it don't matter if we are not related, me, the HiE Group cares about you, and if i'm wrong then idon't kniw.
We all are here for you man . just hang in there.
I will say this you and the HiE Podcast group are one of the few people and group i met that i can actually talk to besides my parents. most of my friends are "online friends" i don't have "A True-True-Friend" i was used by a few girls to get them better grades. hell, I had shit stolen from me at least once a month during my f1st high school year, and went psychotic after having some ball thrown at my face, which is why no one wanted to be my friend. and during college, i never trusted anybody, anypony or anything until the final 3-5 months of college.
look what i'm saying is this, if you want to talk to us we are here for you, I mean I may sound like an idiot sometimes, interrupt a lot, and say or write weird shit. but that's how i am. hell even Enigmatic Otaku might do stupid shit, but we still ove the guy same goes with Pencil with her weird but good Fics
I somewhat know how you feel one of my dogs died recently and a while back my grandfather had a stroke and stayed in a nursing home for a year or 2 then based away. I kept hoping he would get better but he never did. But death is an illusion your loved ones are always with you also I'm glad you'll be writing again soon you do such great work speaking of which you mentioned The Whittler but what about Dibs?
4414415 Thank you, and Dibs? Oh man, I need to finish the next chapter for that.
4414938 How long do you want to make it anyway 6 whole chapters 7 whole chapters?