A New Book to Go with the New Name in Safety Net

I thought when I opened an account with Prosebox that I may write more than I did the last couple of years on OD. I never felt the need to write towards the end. Obviously, I didn't feel the need to write much the past couple of months either. That may be changing.

As the new name suggests, chaos continues to follow me. In fact I have a friend at work that actually calls me Eris (the Greek goddess of chaos for those who don't know) because when I walk into the row, all hell seems to break loose.

The newness continues. My grandpa passed away a few weeks ago. We buried him on my birthday. I had never been particularly close to him. Don't get me wrong, I loved him a lot and I miss him. But he has always preferred his two living sons over my mother and my family has always felt like the outcasts. About a month before he passed he was in the hospital he told me a story that I hadn't heard before. Apparently not long after my parents divorce I told him I didn't have a daddy anymore. Now keep in mind that he wasn't particularly lucid. He was full of pain meds. But if it's true, I would have been about 4 years old and don't remember anyway. But I've been thinking about that a lot lately. I was the only granddaughter so I always thought he spoiled me when he came over because of that. But he never told me no. When he came to visit, if I wanted to take the dog for a walk or play catch or something you might normally ask your dad, he always said yes. He had emphazyma, arthritis and gout, but he never said no. He had an affair when my mom was young which ended with a nasty divorce and custody battle. I never cared much for my mom's stepmother and I never knew her as anything other than my grandma. They'd been married over ten years by the time I was born. I've always been closer to my mom's mom and stepfather though. The last story my grandpa told me forced me to look at things in a new light, but he also continued to bad mouth my grandma for the rest of the day in front of me and my mom. Although I did find it strange that when he knew he was dying and didn't have the strength to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time, he called for my grandma, his first wife, not his current wife who is in the alzheimers ward across the building.

Anyway, the reason I'm coming here is because of my psycho family. I used to be able to put at least short blips on Facebook. Now I can't even post a picture of an otter eating watermelon without getting attacked by those I'm supposedly close with. I need a safe haven. So I may be writing more often. That's why I changed my name to something less recognizable. I also will not be using any real names at all, like I did in the early days of my old diary. It's just safer that way.