As Posted to Facebook.

Toyota Tundra's
.
I was asked not to long ago why it matters what someone is saying on the driveway in a home that I was told I could get if I kept it up. On a driveway in a home that in at least is part mine. My reply to that was I had to ask why I wouldn’t care. I mean after all, I have people walking into my home violating me and violating my personal space. They even threaten to go through it when I am not at home and I am at work. I have not been able to control that for the majority of my life.
.
It has made me so sick inside that I have wanted to vomit my insides out while having to maintain production for some of the best known names in town. I’d almost describe the violating as bullying. I even took the person I live into counselling over it. Silly me, I trusted myself to a doctor, I really should have just let work come to the house, they wanted to. Or even phoned the Police, they help instill the peace in these situations. That was 2006, a year after my father passed away. It’s now ten years later.
.
Last year at this time I had a job I liked and everyone there seemed to like me. I had a lot of opportunity there. However, because of the personal history and health effects of family dynamics, medication and doctors that perhaps were wrong - I am in this situation. I had to separate work from home completely, but you can only do that so long. Somebody there was too interested in me, my “work wife” and kept prying. Eventually I spilled a little family history into my work place. It’s like poison.
.
It wasn’t long before I was sick on this job trying to hide how much things affected me. I have these people in my home, my space, who have affected my life to the point of suicide running the household. They are all around me and they influence it because I am not on title. In fact, they influence a lot of things, they have no risks, nothing to lose. They can fight and then go home. Meanwhile, I have to rest and work.
.
Eventually as always, home life created a wobble for me. Small wobbles grow into large ones. I couldn’t even set up my truck at home. People that don’t even live here were influencing decisions regarding the household. Managing that stress, made work stresses to great. You start losing control and one day you pop, you just quit when too much BS happens at work. I was even hearing comments about why I traded in my vehicle for another. How I shouldn’t have done that. I even hear extended relatives state that. How is that anyone’s business but mine? It is a WORK item.
.
I’ve always thought my brother Jim Berladyn’s truck was an ugly tacky piece of junk. It’s my opinion and I’ve always kept it to myself. I don’t make comments within his earshot and I don’t weasel into the relationship of his wife or the woman he lives with. But then again, he has neither as far as I know. People still ask me if he’s gay.
.
So today here I am with a doctor. I need to get my stress levels down. We talk about why they are so high. We talk about a lot of things. Right now the game plan is to get my stress level down, get that fixed. I actually start finding peace. I think maybe I will finally wash my truck and take a look at that six foot long ¼” scratch on the left side near drivers door. An odd spot, but a common spot considering it’s a traffic area here at this house. The first scratches on this new truck in the rear quarter panel, line up with the garbage cans. Interesting.
.
Low and behold I am outside and here pulls up this Toyota Tundra. Front and Center, all important. That makes me laugh. At funeral services here the owner of the truck Jim Berladyn did the same. My elderly relatives where saying… I guess will walk from the street so the important people can park in the driveway. That was sarcasm on an elderly ladies part, one who has now since passed.
.
Anyways, seeing this Toyota Tundra pull up all front and center there’s something arrogant about it. My stress level jumps right up. Should I approach and ask him for a big hug like people tell me to? It doesn’t seem right. But instead of backing down, hiding, I relax and turn to attention. He fumbles with his phone for five minutes, I have to wonder if he’s thinking of video recording me in my own home or if he’s just trying to intimidate me.
.
I don’t change stance, eventually he gets out looking up all upset. Actually, he looks a little ill. Small even. Why would I let him intimidate me? Something from childhood or something to do with his influence over my mother? I’ll talk about that with the doctor some more as we talk about some history in a couple of days. In the mean time, I decided to wash my truck. I mean, if someone’s going to pull up on a driveway that’s suppose to be mine and not acknowledge me why I should I not wash my truck? I’ve done that for too many years, I’ve been considerate about overspray for far too long.
.
Small people get elderly ladies to commit FRAUD and LIE under OATH. Small people laugh at their father. That’s just my view.