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Happy New Year!

Or as we've always said in my family, NEW YEAR'S GIFT! Don't ask me why, because I don't know.

2014 was a bad year.

My sister almost died more than once. She spent most of the year battling stage 4 ovarian cancer while we spent most of the year worrying and praying for her. My grandmother hurt herself and never really recovered and died back in May. My brothers kicked me out of my bedroom to make room for her and I had to take care of the woman who abused me. It was a mercy that it was short, but as with everything bad, I tend to think that it doesn't end, so I was prepared for the long haul. Someone even called CPS on me over her, probably because she spent most of the time she was here screaming without provocation. I spent a couple months fighting some pretty bad depression, coupled with suicidal thoughts without any help.

I guess it wasn't all bad, though, I made all six of my nieces and nephews swimwear, complete with rash guards for the boys. I managed Easter clothes for my kiddos. I made a vampire Halloween costume (a pretty fantastic one, I might add) for the baby mostly using what I had laying around. The whole thing cost about $8 out of pocket. I dug up materials for Gracie to make her own zombie costume, complete with ripped up thrift-store jeans. That one only cost me about $2.50.  I did Thanksgiving and Christmas on less-than-shoestring budgets. I survived. With having to deal with the Aspies' tantrums, my other brothers' tantrums, illnesses with the children, pushing past my own illnesses and limitations to take care of the kids and everything else, I think that in itself is an accomplishment. I learned that I can still function when all I want to do is sleep. I learned to ignore my own needs to focus on the littles. Because they need me, even when the other people around me are telling me how useless they think I am. My sister survived, despite all odds, when they told us she wouldn't make it through the night. She's in remission now. Only time will tell if she gets a reoccurrence.

2015? Here's hoping and praying for a better year. Here's hoping for a year in which we can manage to have enough and not rely on food assistence to get through. Yeah. I'm praying for that one a lot. Here's hoping for something BETTER than last year.

RIP Zoomway

I've been a fan of Lois and Clark since the beginning, and joined the fandom when I got online in 2000. I cut my teeth writing fiction there. Zoomway ran the message boards and shaped what the fandom became from the start. I've known her on IRC for fourteen years now. To be honest, online friendships built through fandom are some of the most solid and longest friendships I've ever had. She'd been battling cancer and lost the fight this afternoon. Love you Zoom. Miss you already. RIP.

Sep. 21st, 2014

Part of me feels bad. I just informed my Aspie sister that being an adult involves doing lots of thing you don't like doing and that if she ever wanted to be independent, she needed to start doing her share of work around the house. I'm the only one who cleans here and it's not fair that in a house of four adults, I'm the only one cleaning the bathroom, sweeping, mopping, dusting, and vaccuuming. Geoff ignores household chores. The Aspies tell me they hate and and they're bad at it so they won't do it and I'm not their mother and can't make them. Just one of the things I'm tired of. I'm in the worst physical shape and do the most actual physical labor while they sit on their butts and pursue their "hobbies".

Labor day

I have spent today... laboring. It's the first day in a while I haven't had little ones to get in my way, you see. So I gave the bushes a severe haircut, cleaned the bathroom, scrubbed down the kids' furniture and waxed it, swept and mopped all the hard-surface floors, and I'm about to polish the kids' furniture and start dinner. And the Aspies are pissed. 1) I refused to allow them to walk on my wet kitchen floor and made them wait to eat until it was dry. 2) I scolded them for leaving messes and garbage for me to clean up behind them 3) I told them that if they're really adults, they should be pitching in and doing their share, because being an adult involves doing a lot of things you'd rather not do, like cleaning.

They're currently sitting in Mary-Alices's room. Since they have no volume control, I can hear everything they're saying, and a lot of it is how mean and unfair and nasty I am and how they can't wait to get away from me. Apparently, the fact that the house does NOT magically clean itself (despite the 40 years Mom put into trying to teach them that) has yet to register and is unfair!


I wanna scream and throw things. Jon (the aspie brother) has been bothering me through text messages all morning. Once again, accusing me of things that aren't true... Honestly, he should look in the mirror. Everything he yells at me about is himself.

Geoff (the one who struggles with mental illness) has been giving me a hard time because I mopped the kitchen with pure bleach yesterday and because he has a really sensitive nose, is now fussing that the leftover chlorine smell is going to hurt the kids. Anxiety disorder and clinical depression, remember? To attempt to appease him, I remopped the floor with the swiffer, took the regular mop outside, and took out the trash. He claims it still smells heavily of bleach. Well, it's clean isn't it? No more dirty marks or food stains from the Aspie sister dropping crap on the floor. Now, of course, it smells like swiffer cleaner, which he also hates. So does the hallway because I mopped that this morning, too. I still need to do the living room and finish off cleaning the tub and the floor in the bathroom.

See, Sarah is coming over tomorrow so the kids can play. Her last chemo treatment starts Monday and I'm trying to make sure that it's as clean as possible so she doesn't pick up a bug here. Chemo trashes your immune system, and I want to make sure it's clean. She already almost died once from infection after her first treatment!

It's not like the rest of them help me at all!

The truth?

I got an email from a (second? never figured out the whole cousin and once removed twice removed thing. One of my great aunts' daughters, anyway) cousin today. One of my great aunts died this week, and she wanted to let this side of the family know. Now, we don't really know that side of the family. They live a few thousand miles away from us and we've barely met. Among other things she wants to know how I'm doing. How can I answer that? If there's one thing this past year has taught me it's that nobody really wants the truth. So to her, I'm fine.

But I'm not. I'm tired. I'm tired of having a debilitating disease. I'm tired of feeling sick all the time. I'm tired of physical and emotional pain. I'm tired of getting up and walking anyway when my legs hurt too much to stand on.  I'm tired of not having the medical care I need because Medicaid doesn't cover it and there's no money for it. I'm tired of having to be the grown up. I'm tired of being responsible.  I'm tired of dealing with children in adults' bodies. I'm tired of the constant  tantrums. I'm tired of the screaming and the insults. I'm tired of being treated like a whipping boy and a house elf. I'm tired of being blamed and told that I'm not doing enough because I don't work outside the house. I'm tired of being told that the house isn't clean enough and that I need to clean more.  I'm tired of wearing tatty clothes and trying to patch them together and being told that if I want new ones, I need to earn them, despite the fact that the family gets my entire income. I'm tired of being told I'm the most dishonest, selfish person in the world. I'm tired of my wants and needs and feelings being pushed aside and completely ignored. I'm tired of being told that I don't really need a bedroom because I sleep on the couch, anyway. And I'm tired of having to do that because my bed is so bad that I'm in pain after having slept on it for days afterward. I'm tired of being told that I'm not really sick and I use everything as an excuse. Even when I was suicidal. Apparently, that, too, is an excuse for not completely supporting the Aspies financially. I'm tired of being told I should be supporting the entire family making cosplay costumes when I don't know the first thing about costume design or pattern making, I have no interest in it, and I simply don't have the skills to do it. I'm tired of being told that those facts are just excuses. I'm tired of being told that they don't like what there is to eat when we're lucky to have food at all. I'm tired of having what everyone else doesn't want to do dumped on me. I'm tired of having to take care of the real kids because everyone else is going to a movie and I'm not invited. I'm tired of anxiety attacks and having to scrape and scrounge to afford the $0.50 a month for my medication that I didn't need before all these people became my responsibility. I'm tired of poverty. I'm tired of feeling guilty when I spend any amount of money on myself, even that damn fifty cents a month for medicine.  I'm tired of feeling worthless and having those feelings backed up by the three siblings I live with. I'm tired of having to take care of everybody when it's become patently clear that nobody will take care of me.  I'm tired of having to do all the household chores because they don't want to and refuse to help. I'm tired of being told to stop feeling sorry for myself. I'm tired of having to bury myself in fiction just to get by. I'm tired of being told that my life is so "easy". I'm tired of feeling like God must really hate me to give all this garbage to me, or my siblings are right and I must be a horrible, evil person to deserve this. I'm tired of not having anyone in my life, aside from the babies, who care if I live or die. I'm tired of feeling that I'm better off dead.  I'm tired of living. Period.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not suicidal... right now. There's no danger of me offing myself. I won't do that to my babies. And I'm talking about the real ones. The six year old, three year old, and one year old that spend 40 hours+ a week with me so their parents can both work and stay out of bankruptcy. I do have to admit that there have been times over the past year when the huge Sam's bottle of OTC painkiller combined with the idea of it being a way out has looked extremely tempting. Yes. I've been suicidal a few times over this past year. But I refuse to be that selfish. I've spent my entire life trying to NOT be like my older siblings. And in a way asperger's syndrome is extreme selfishness combined with childishness and behavior disorders. My cousin doesn't want to know these things. So I'm fine, I guess. But the truth is that I'm tired.

Lost it.

I'm nuts. I've lost it again. I mean, I'm still writing DQMW fic, poking at stories from my other fandoms that are still on my hard drive occasionally, but now I'm getting other bunnies. I used to write JAG way back when. And I followed NCIS for a while... until they killed Kate. My viewing since then has been sporadic and I've never tried fic for it... until recently. I dipped some toes into the NCIS pool late March, wrote an unpublished one in April, and I just finished another vignette and sent it to my friends for beta. And I'm still going on my largish DQ WIP--A Family Apart. I've got another two largish DQ wips, an idea for a NCIS/tP crossover, a one shot or two for Law and Order: SUV... Yep. Lost it.

Buy-it-now is EVIL

Since October, I've been working on refinishing yard sale finds into nice looking, usable kids' furniture.

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Dangit. I'm in T-R-O-U-B-L-E!

I don't know how many Forever Knight fans read this, but if you are, I hope you're following the current war, War 15. Because I'm doomed. DOOMED, I tell you. I'll be facing court martial for committing the ultimate sin for a Merc -- giving away chocolate for FREE! *gasp* *choke* *cough* In my defense, I am currently slightly amnesiac and faction confused. I'm under the impression that I'm NOT a Merc, let alone Merc Mommy General, second-in-command of the Forever Knight Mercenary Guild. I was running the faction due to the absence of our Grand High Poohbah... but am currently watching Dr. Quinn at the NNP theatre.... and giving away chocolate on film. DOOMED. DOOMED, I TELL YOU!

*falls on the floor, laughing herself sick*

Fanfiction: The Talk 1/1


The Talk

by Bratling

Disclaimer: Not mine. I hugged them, squeezed them, called them George, then gave them back like a good girl. Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman belongs to Beth Sullivan, CBS, and A&E.

Author's Note: This directly follows my story, A Little Chat. As I've said before, I remain unconvinced of Andrew and Colleen. It was too rushed and hurried and they didn't know each other that well. Some conversations about medicine combined with two dates aren't a really good foundation for a lasting marriage. Think of this as an alternate to the talk Michaela and Colleen had in A New Beginning. Colleen was also the only Cooper child who didn't get the talk by either Sully or Michaela...


"Immature love says, 'I love you because I need you.'

Mature love says, 'I need you because I love you.'"

--Erich Fromm


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