Sunday June 1st, I got into an argument with my dad at the dinner table. It was due to the fact that he hadn’t showered in over a week, and was smelling really badly. I understand he has a hard time standing up in the shower, but if he can’t take a shower on his own, he should really be getting help with that. I am not going to carry my father into the shower, and my mom isn’t about to either. I don’t know why they don’t look into getting one of those bars installed in the shower, so that he could at least use that to support himself better in the shower. Although, I’m not sure if the building would allow it. Anyway, during this argument I decide it was time to talk to my sisters about the bullshit that goes on in this house, and that I’m not responsible for it, and that not everything that goes wrong with my dad’s health is my fault.

So immediately after dinner I headed straight to my room and picked up the phone and called my sister Kim. I just went straight to it, telling her my purpose for the call, and that I don’t know why she’s not talking to me, when I didn’t do anything wrong. She immediately started to raise her voice, and get mad at me for not helping my dad up and leaving him on the floor when he fell this past January. First of all, if I hadn’t woken my mom up to tell her that he fell, he probably would have been there all night. I did not help get him up though, because I just don’t want to deal with it. It freaks me out to see that shit, and I also have my own troubles. I just don’t want to be that person taking care of their parents when they fall. He only got himself to that point, and he knew he was getting worse for a few weeks.

Anyway, when I told her that I’m going through my own shit, she said that I was psycho, and that I have issues. That I have gay issues. That I’m a faggot. That’s right. My own sister called me a faggot. Well Kim, your faggot brother is not your brother anymore.

It’s really a shame it has come down to this. I was calling her, and she is the one that wasn’t talking to me. I was calling her to stop the childish bullshit once and for all. I was calling her to patch things up and get past all this and come to some sort of understanding. She wouldn’t have any part of it though, and decided to just yell like a little brat and not even let me talk or get one single word on. Then she threatened me if I hung up on her. Not sure what she was threatening exactly though. She seems to think she knows everything that goes on in my house, and then blames me for everything that goes wrong. She even brought up how I didn’t drive her and my other sister Kathy to the airport when they were here last. I told her I can’t drive on highways, that it gives me panic attacks. She doesn’t care though. She hasn’t cared about me for a long time and it really shows. It’s okay, she doesn’t exist anymore.