And So The Adjustment Begins

So far, this entry has taken me more than two hours to wright, along with a few tissues.

So, I just got off the phone with my dad--I had originally called him to tell him that I was still alive from the tornadoes that just came through the Memphis/Germantown/Collierville/Bartlett area. But we got to talking about how last week was Seaway Festival... and how he wishes that he could have a do-over, or wake up from the nightmare that's been happening for the past 10 years.
If you've known me since I was little, you know that when I was about 7 or 8, my dad fell off the top of a house-boat during Seaway Festival, and broke his neck.
Ever since that day, I've been suffering with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder--a confirmed case.  I can't remember anything from my childhood before that day--unless there's a picture of whatever was happening--and even then, I don't know if I actually remembering the event, or if I've just heard other peoples' stories from whatever is in the picture, that I made myself think that I remembered.
As for describing that day, I don't really remember what happened before like 10 minutes before he fell. [I'll try and tell the story as best I can, but I'll represent lapses in time with "..."]

It was Seaway Festival, and my Mom, Dad and I went out on our boat, along with our neighbors from across the street in their boats, Pat Lyons and Joe Howe--Joe had rented a house-boat for Seaway Festival.  We headed to the Sandbar, by the boat-launch near the Ogdensburg public pool. Everyone was partying; most of the adults were drunk; there were women taking off their tops and flashing everyone, while dancing to the blaring music. ... I remember being on a paddle-boat with Kyle Demers and Pat Dillingham, and they dropped me off at the house-boat. ... I was at the front (bow) of the boat, and heard screaming coming from the back of the boat. I tried running to the back of the boat, along with a few other people, but my dad's friend Joe Howe (our neighbor from across the street) came forward and pushed everyone back to the front of the boat, and told us something along the lines of 'you don't need to see this'. ... I decided that I would go a different way to get to the back of the boat, so I did--I got to the back without Joe noticing. ... I looked in the water where everyone around us was pointing, and saw my dad, face up in the water, just floating. He had blood coming out of his mouth and nose, and looked like there was blood in his belly button (which actually turned out to be seaweed and sand). ... The next thing I remember, Alyshia Fredericks' dad (who was a fireman) was in the water, calling for everyone to give him their towels so he could stabelize my dad's neck.  After that, Joe and Felix (his real name is Tim--another of my dad's good friends) were in the house-boat, and had ripped a door out of the boat, and were in the water with it--and Alyshia's dad had put it under my dad's lifeless body in the water. ... Again, the next thing I remember, Sandy Lyons (Pat's wife) had taken me in her arms, and put me in her boat, in the cabin under the bow, and told me that my mom and dad were going to the hospital--and that I was going to stay with her for a while, and that she would take me to the hospital later on. ... I just remember hearing the sirens of the ambulance, coming up from the cabin of the boat, and seeing firetrucks and ambulances and police cars all on the boat launch area. ... I remember being in the hospital with Pat and Sandy, asking where my dad was. ... Then, I was standing in the room where my dad was; he had a tube going down his throat, and a machine was breathing for him.
...
After that night, he got transferred to the Syracuse hospital by helicoptor.  I can't remember how long it was after he got transferred that I got to go see him, but what I do remember from the Syracuse hospital, wasn't good. All I remember from that, was that the tube going down my dad's throat prohibited him from talking--and when I went into his room, he tried telling me something, and I couldn't lip-read--so I burst into tears, ran down the hallway to find my mom, and made her translate for me.  That was probably more scary than seeing him on the door in the water. In my mind, I was probably thinking that I'd never be able to talk to my dad again.
...
After I don't know how long, he got transferred to the New England Rehabilitation Hospital in Woburn, Massachusettes.  I remember visiting him twice: once, about a week after he got there, and another when it was Mom and Dad's wedding anniversary.  The week after he got there, all I can remember, was that the tube was out of his throat, and his voice was back--which I was completely estatic about. Also, that he was on an awesome sand-blast bed (a kind of air-bed that has sand blowing in it--kind of like a constant massage), and that Armageddon had just come out on VHS, and we were watching that in his room. ... The day of Mom and Dad's anniversary, all I remember was that Dad was in his electric wheelchair, and was still getting used to driving it.  I remember being in the dining room to the hospital with Mom, and watched Dad come down the ramp to the room, and he ended up putting a HUGE hole in the wall--the first of many.
...
All the while when Dad was in the hospitals, we had to put an addition onto our house that was wheelchair accessible.  It was connected to the dining room, and consisted of an 'office' space, where we put the computer; a huge bedroom; and a huge bathroom.




--that's all I can wright right now; I have the worst headache in the world. I'll finish later.

Technology has actually brought my family closer.
I live over 1000 miles away from most of my relatives, and with instant messaging and video conference calls, I can stay in touch with everybody.
Before we had all of that, I wouldn't see most of my relatives--from my mom's side, we'd go to my Gram's house for Christmas or some other major holiday... once or less per year. And I'd talk to my relatives from my dad's side about once a year on the phone.
Now, I can talk to my brother in Japan; my Dad and Gram in New York; my Aunt and cousins in California; and other relatives in other parts of the country whenever I want.

PERSIAN!!
I loved the Iranian cuisine that I had nearly every weekend when I lived with Aunt Karen.
We'd go to Walnut Creek, where Ali's cousins live (baba and maman, as they're called by everyone), and we'd FEAST!!

I always say that I don't live with regrets, but the truth is, I really do.

• I regret not being close with both of my parents instead of just my dad during my younger years. I always resented my mom for leaving my disabled dad because of 'emotional distress'. And when she married my godfather, I hated her even more--which is why I went to live with my aunt. I felt good for making her feel bad and being as distant from her as I was, because she had hurt me in ways that I couldn't express. Now that I live with my mom again, I feel that we're closer, but I feel bad that I live so far away from my dad--and I feel as if I'm growing more distant emotionally from my dad (and I really don't want that to ever happen).
• On that note, I also regret not really having a normal childhood. After my dad had his accident, I was forced to take on responsibilities children aren't supposed to have. I wasn't allowed to do a lot of things kids do because I had to take care of my dad or clean and do other chores because my mom worked all day and my dad was disabled and unable to help out.
• I also regret the first time I drank alcohol; I was like 14 or 15, and I was mixing hard liquors on an empty stomach... and then tried to cover it up from my mom by eating baking chocolate.  That was not a fun night. I ended up puking all over the place, leaving chocolate stains on the carpet, and my mom was the one helping me out. She thought I had alcohol poisoning, and said that I was lucky to be alive after that incident. But I guess that was a learning experience for me, because I very rarely drink at all anymore; just for special occasions.
• Another is being promiscuous. I lost my virginity at age 13, to someone that I didn't really know (a friend's ex-boyfriend, actually), who said after we'd had sex that he "wasn't looking to get into another relationship" (and never talked to me again)--and since then, only a few of the guys I've slept with have been actual boyfriends--they've mostly been friends-with-benefits and one-night-stands.  Since I've moved away from my hometown, my promiscuity has gotten better---but I still have friends-with-benefits for when I go back to my hometown, and I have one here in Memphis.  So, basically, sex isn't very personal anymore for me... its just casual.

I have other regrets, but those are my main ones.

The majority of the time, my step-father and I are cool.  We don't usually talk, and we stay out of each other's way; and I'm fine with that.  I happen to like my time alone.  Pretty much the only downside to Mark is that he has a son.  I've told my mom several times that if Mark didn't have Ian, their marriage would be absolutely perfect (and yes, that is saying a lot--seeing as how just over a year ago, I couldn't stand Mark at all).  Now, I understand fully that Ian has AD/HD--and is going to therapy--and is on the highest dosage of AD/HD medication available to children under 18--but he still has a myriad of horrid habits (that both my mother and I can't fucking stand).  I've narrowed it down to my main three annoyances.

Number 1: He doesn't clean up after himself; he expects others to be his maid.
Number 2: The television in his bedroom.  He leaves his television on after he leaves the house to go somewhere else, and also leaves it on at night--all night--because he "can't sleep without it on".
Number 3: He doesn't respect authority.  He thinks he can get away with everything; and he does.  He has his dad brainwashed to be his fucking robot.

Number 1 bothers me because my mom and I have a compulsion to clean, and he knows that, and uses it to his advantage. He knows that my mom and I both can't just let a mess sit there...
Number 2 bothers me because its a complete and utter waste of electricity. The fact that he leaves it on after he's left the house is ridiculous.  He KNOWS BETTER!!  Also, his television has the same settings as mine does; there IS a sleep setting on that TV--that if used, can automatically shut the TV off after 30, 60, 90 or 120 minutes.  Two hours is PLENTY of time to leave a TV on if someone has trouble sleeping... hell, I do it sometimes...but the thing is, Ian stays up and watches the damn thing until he falls asleep, so he doesn't use the sleep setting.  And when either my mom or Mark go into his room to shut it off after he's asleep, he wakes up because he wasn't completely asleep in the first place.
Number 3 bothers me because if my mom or I ask him to do something--like say, make his bed-- he doesn't listen... even after we've told him multiple times.  Only when Mark steps in and tells him to do it, will he actually go and do it.  But when my mom yells at him for not doing what he's told, Mark steps in and yells at my mom.

I sware, Ian will be the downfall of my mom's perfect relationship; and as much as I'm being hypocritical of my past opinions on the subject, I'm furious.  That little asshole can't accept the fact that his parents are divorced and both are remarried.  He doesn't like either his step-dad or my mom.

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