2006-02-08

Yet another unseen entry. Just because I can't put the thing back up till they reveal my being ousted doesn't mean I can't write in the damn thing. Right?

If anyone came here thinking this site would change to some site where I shamelessly promote myself, it hasn't- and won't. It's still, first and foremost, a diary. And a place where I whine and talk crazy. So on with that...

Went back to Philly for the funeral. It was nice to see more of my family- even if it wasn't for the happiest occasion. Uncle Carmen, my Aunt Cathy's (who I lovingly call Aunt Stressy) husband, was very broken up. Usually I see him when I go back for weddings. It's just so hard to see him not being his jovial self. I understand, of course, that the situation is a million times harder for him. I just hope he gets his mojo back- that's all.

The day of the funeral went by quietly... until about seven o'clock eastern time. That's when I find out that Aunt Crazy (not the most loving moniker on my part) has pulled her tricks again. See Aunt Crazy has been out of the women's treatment center (read rehab/mental health center) for two weeks. She'd been staying with Uncle Mike and had actually been behaving. We (Uncle Mike and I) really thought that those months in therapy had sort of kicked in.

We were dead wrong. Because Aunt Crazy called Aunt Cathy's house (after she'd just gone through her husband's father's funeral) and told her that the fact that there was a funeral and someone died was too depressing for her and brought back the pain of "Daddy and Joey and Paul and [she] just can't take it!" She told Aunt Cathy (who'd gone through some actual, recent pain- let me remind you) that it was too much and she took a bunch of pills. The fact that she called Aunt cathy in particular speaks volumes... about how Crazy can't stand attention or sympathy that is not fixed on her.

I know. I sound like a cold-hearted bitch. But this is the fourth time this year-and the hundredth time in Aunt Crazy's life-that she's pulled this malarky (Yes, I said malarky. Did I mention I'm eighty-five?).

Most of the time Aunt Crazy does it, it coincides with someone else going through a crisis or tough time. the other times are directly after someone has called her out on her B.S.

The first time this year, it happened after I told her she was rude. The second time, it was after one of her brothers told her to shut up about herself (as Aunt Lisa sat in the room, having just buried her husband that day).

She's mentally ill. I know this. People with Borderline Personality Disorder are the hardest to deal with because they are sneaky and manipulative. Her repetitive suicide attempts are nothing more than a grand gesture.

They say "How dare you pretend to have problems? I HAVE PROBLEMS. Just watch me swallow pills! See? That proves it! If I swallow pills and immediately call everyone in the family (insuring a 911 call in the nick of time), then you will give me pity! And pity, for me, is like a billion dollars to anyone else."

They also say "How dare you insult me by insinuating that my problems are caused by my own asinine behavior and irresponsibility? I'll swallow pills! Then tell everyone it was because you were mean to me!! That'll show you!!!"

In short, Aunt Crazy is a 57-year-old 14-year-old attention seeker. You know that girl in high school? That girl that, whenever she had rumors flying about her had a convenient suicide attempt soon after (also known as my sister,at one point). Aunt Crazy is that girl.

Uncle Mike is pushing sixty and he can't handle this anymore. I'm pushing thirty. And I shudder to think what would happen if Aunt Crazy and I were in the same room and I had a cattle prod handy. I remember Uncle Joe only a month before he died. He sat at the table as Aunt Crazy's voice came over the answering machine. His fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. I remember Grandpop, woke up by her manic phone calls at three am. She tied us all in knots. She ruined the lives of the California side of the Walshes for fifteen years.

And now? She's going back east. To ruin the Philadelphia Walshes before Uncle Mike has a nervous breakdown.

I don't know. There's no easy solution with a family member like that. Even the treatment center gave up on her. We just have to deal with the crises as they come and hope our sanity doesn't get lost along the way.