A Black Sheep Is Born

I'm officially the Black Sheep of the family. If I'm being honest with you, I've been flirting with that title for a few years now. So let it be known that on this day, Thursday May 6th 2021, I have officially strayed from the flock!

So what is a Black Sheep anyways? Well in short the Black Sheep, or Bleep as I like to call it, is the outcast of the family. Bleep's generally act in ways that shame and embarrass their loved ones. This type of behavior usually gets the Bleep thrown out, excluded, shunned and/or abandoned by their own kin.

For many people this seems absolutely unimaginable! Congratulations, you AREN'T the Black Sheep. But if you find yourself agreeing with my words, than you my friend might just be a Bleep yourself. In which case I welcome you and give you a keyboard HIGHFIVE!

I've always been a little different than everyone else in my family. My grades were a little lower, my sense of humor is a little more bleak, and I tend to live my life in a less "traditional" way. For the sake of lucidity I don't give a FLYING FADOODLE what the others think of me, and you can take that to the bank!

So how did this happen you ask? Well, the camel's back was broken by the following straw:

My Grandmother was released from a rehab facility a couple weeks ago. She's an 18 year old woman who's currently residing in a 92 year old body. My Gram Gram is equal parts sugar, spice, and the demon from the Exorcist. She's a real pill, let me tell you!

I'd like to skip over boring details and get to my lynching as soon as possible, so here goes the crash course. My aunt moved in with my grandma and grandpa years ago. My grandpa passed away (pours out a shot of whiskey) 8 years ago, at which time my aunt skillfully persuaded my grandma to put their house into her name. Dirty pool you say? Yes, indeed.

My aunt has taken care of my grandma over the last few years. I use the words "taken care of" very loosely. I refuse to sink to her level, so I'm going to leave it at that and swallow my opinions. This is a safe place and there's no room for name calling, we're all adults here.

The woman is a Pettifogger if I've ever seen one! A big, rotten, narcissistic lickspittle, who's full of nothing but hogwash and hooey!

"Please excuse my outburst" I say while cleaning the windows in my glass house. --

Anyways my grandma's now back at home with my aunt. She requires total assistance across the board. She can't walk or transfer herself due to general weakness and underlying neurological issues. My aunt takes full care of her behind closed curtains, therefore, my side of the family is completely unaware as to what's really happening behind door #1.

My aunt is going away on vacation for the week and she's taking her side of the family(her children/grandchildren) with her. She's passed the buck as "caregiver" on to my mom, my sister, and myself.

Let me make one thing clear, I love my grandma dearly. That being said, I don't want to be her caregiver. I have a strong background in the medical field and my career is in Occupational Therapy. Trust me, I love and care for all people, but I can't get on board with this situation.

My grandma is extremely fragile, like an eggshell covered in tissue paper. My family is NOT trained to care for an individual as delicate and frail as she is. We don't have the proper lifts, adaptive equipment, or appropriate home layout to provide her with the assistance she needs and DESERVES! Not to mention my mom has a history of severe back injuries and we all work full time, meaning we can't be there 24 hours a day.

As of a few days ago no one in my immediate family was made aware that my aunt had my grandma's house put into her name when my grandpa passed away. My mother and uncle had no clue. Shady, shady business was at hand, and the ball of yarn was unraveling right before us!

Act 1:

My mom, sister, aunt, grandma and myself were sitting in the living room at my gram-aunts house 2 days ago. My aunt was divulging her daily routine to care for my grandma, in order to prepare us for her week long sabbatical.

This is when excrement hit the windmill!

Act 2

In a fit of rage my mother confronted my aunt about everything and anything having to do with Gram's current state of affairs. Colorful words were strewn about like confetti at the Thanksgiving Day Parade! My mom pulled out every single skeleton from my aunts closet, by their ears! She put them on their knees and finished them off...execution style! I'm being dramatic, but you get the point. My mom was savage.

I watched in amazement and wonder as my beautiful maker stuck up for herself! She was a sight to behold as she flailed her arms around in pure rage before performing the ultimate mic drop and exiting the house of aunt-ma.

It was exquisite and brilliant! My mother told my aunt that we needed to put the house up for sale, and get my grandma the help that she needed. But my aunt, of course, couldn't agree with her any less.

Act 3

I sat in complete silence directly across from my sister. I was dumbstruck and anxious... I should have left. If there's one thing my family knows I'm good for, it's confrontation. My aunt sat on the couch like a wounded bird and began lashing out at my mother's invisible presence. I kept my head down and counted my breaths in silence.

"Do not open your foolish mouth you silly girl" I thought to myself. But what good is a Bleep if they can't speak their true feelings, am I right? That my friends, is exactly what I was afraid of.

As my aunt continued grasping for straws she finally turned her gaze to me. The quiet one. She lashed out at me so hard you would've thought she had a Shadowless Charizard card in her deck. She cut me deep in the worst of ways. She attacked my stepdad(and my grandparents on his side) and began telling me how he isn't my "real" family, and never would be. According to her "he's water, not blood."

Triggered. For those of you who don't know, my Stepdad is my savior. He gave myself, my mom, and my siblings a life we could never have dreamt of. We didn't have a pot to void in before this man.

Boom! Just like that a volcano erupted inside of me, and in a flash of rage I blacked out. When I get angry, I cut a person to the core. I took this dame 30 years back and slammed her face in the mud of her past. There was a Sharknado loose in my gram-aunties living room, and it was out for blood. I was well spoken, fluent, and efficient; I tore through her being, confronted her with her past, and Hail-Married the mic before storming out of the house. (Later I would realize that I forgot my piece of cake sitting on the kitchen table that my grandma had given me. Aww, sad).

Which brings us to the now. I'm currently working on getting Gramsby put on Medicaid so that we can afford to have a full time caregiver at aunt-mammie's house.

My aunt on the other hand has been very hard at work. She's written a letter to each of our family member's, and paid for the post! By next week everyone in my immediate lineage will read of my extravagant outburst! I was labeled as the "grandchild who wants to admit our Grandma into a neglectful, abusive nursing home and leave her to die." When in reality I just wanted to get my grandmother the care that she needed within HER home.

My aunt will stop at nothing to make sure she keeps "her house" and her inheritance. She's using my Grandmother as a cash cow, and I hope the others can see through her cheap charade.

So here I stand before you, the Black sheep. I write to you in hopes of giving support to anyone else out there who's struggling with their relationships. I'm here, and I see you. Us outcasts, cool cats, rule breakers, and back talkers need to stick together. I leave you with some final words of wisdom:

BAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Sincerely yours,

The Black Sheep a.k.a Bleep