I have been off the blog for a while trying to get my thoughts together. I have no family support at all. I see no one except neighbors around the complex. Due to countless lies they’ve been told, I haven’t seen my nieces and nephew in six years. Brittany, Caitlyn, and Corey, here’s an open letter to you.
Despite what your grandmother believes, my epilepsy or Asperger’s Syndrome or the Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum, meaning I live without one is not something I should be ashamed of. She is, your mother is. They raised you to make fun of me because that’s fun for them. Your grandmother chose not to get me the medical attention I needed in physical or occupational therapy because she chose the baseball park, fishing, drinking or ignoring me. I got a Catholic school education but was put through hell because I loved Grandpa. He doesn’t have an arrest record, your other grandfather does. Crap happens. We all have a past. You have been fed so may lies they are too many to count. Seven doctors have said my medical problems are a result of fetal alcohol syndrome, or being drunk pregnant.
I have scars where I was let to fall down because of my lack of balance. I was promised Nana’s entire jewelry collection and it was never given to me. Everything I gave you, it’s because she and I planned it. I was promised the townhouse would be in my name. Another lie. The pills I must take to live were not bought for ten days and I had seizures that stopped my heart. The solution was to lock me up in a mental hospital, which is threatened regularly. The doctors said I was in chemical withdrawal from needing my medicine.
I have lost out of 6 jobs because that is on my permanent record. I have been told not to bring my epilepsy, Aspergers, or anxiety out. Would anyone say that to a cancer patient? When Aunt Norene died, no one called, no one came, when my Dad died, no one came, brought me food, checked on me, you know the things human beings do for each other. Except for me, because I am different. How many times did your mother tell you I was weird, smelled, strange, but I was good for gifts, rides, babysitting, or whatever I could get used for. When I need help, none of you could run fast enough.
There are rats or squirrels in my walls, my name is not on this house, that is not my problem. I haven’t had hair in 3 years due to bugs in the windows, but I guess you all expect me to jump to my death to spray. I am isolated for needing help, being different, and pointing out that doing so only causes me to get more anxious more depressed and it’s not right. My brain does not function like you. I am not stupid. I have brain injuries that were long ignored due to ignorance and apathy. I could die of a seizure in my home and none of you would know, and none of you would care.