21 March, 2006

Life Sucks. a/k/a My Uncle -- Part II

I just got home about a 1/2 hour ago. My Uncle Keith, from Williamstown, MA, is a real piece of work.

He left a voicemail for me last night. Here's a transcription (I've previously worked both as a word processing operator and transcriptionist):
How's my favorite nephew? Your father said you that he was bringing you right back after you uh got finished visiting with grandpa in the hospital. I said OK. Uh, I'd like to find out what you did about trying to get grandpa's car fixed, what arrangements you made, if any. Um, you're welcomed here. It's just not going to be for the long-term, that's all. So come on home. I'll talk to you when you get here. Or call me if you don't want to do it in person. Alright? Bye.
My phone battery was pretty much shot by this afternoon, so I was only turning my phone on to check for voicemail. At 9:55 this evening, I received the following message from him:
Hello there, Peter []. This is your Uncle Keith. Um, I need to hear from you to find out what you're planning on doing. Um I got permission to start cleaning your room out, as soon as possible, that was a request and I was kind of hoping that you'd come and do it. Let me know if you're going to come by and do it or if I don't hear from you I'll assume that you just don't care and I'll do it myself. I'll start by taking your computer apart tomorrow and putting it out on the street. So let me know what you decide to do. Thanks. Bye.
So when I got home, the first thing that I noticed is that his car was on the other side of the driveway than where it last was (since the serpentine belt in his car wasn't completely hooked up, it wasn't in any condition to be moved unless it was fixed). So he somehow came up with the money to get his car fixed.

I got to my room, and found that he had removed the door to my room (he had threatened to do this yesterday, when he was kicking me out):

My door frame -- the door had been removed by my uncle The hinges to my door -- the door was removed by my uncle


I also found that my computer had been shut off (not shut down, the difference being that he just hit the power switch on my power strip, which can cause major physical problems with the computer, like a hard drive crash, for starters). I called my father, and he told me to ask him to put the door back on. I did, and he ignored me.

Of course, now my room smells like cigarette smoke. I'm asthmatic, and cigarette smoke triggers my asthma. My clothes all smell like cigarette smoke, along with my room. He's smoking in the house, which he shouldn't be doing in the first place, especially with a disabled baby in the house.

I think part of what my uncle is doing is thinking that he's going to be able to move into the house, because he never had the opportunity to move back home after he moved out. You see, my father had moved back into the house and stayed here for a number of years, until the re-married to my stepmother about four years ago. My sister has pretty much lived here her entire life, and I moved back home after my car accident (I spent a number of years living in the City). Or maybe it's just that he's jealous that we've been able to live here. Or whatever.

Whatever it is, it's bullshit, and I really don't know how much longer I an hang on. I probably should go back into the hospital, because I'm eyeing some pill bottles right now. Too bad they're empty. Of course, I can't make the attempt now, because the bottles are empty and unless I knew I were going to succeed, I'd just be accused of acting out in a borderline fashion again.

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