Skipped the shop again today even though mom said she would babysit. The funeral for her brother isn’t until Friday. In light of how irritated I have been with R, I decided to be a selfish bitch and take another day away. He called last night, “pretending” to care what was going on, but then he launched into the guilt trip, “The shop needs you” (translation:I don’t want to do anything but fix busted shit so come handle the business stuff for me.) Then he started firing off a list of things he needs me to do when I come back.
Viva la friendship.
I’d sometimes rather be a friendless unabomber clone. Fake sincerity and bullshit piss me off. I know, everything pisses me off anymore, but seriously. The man uses me (He doesn’t even talk to me on weekends unless he needs some shop related thing, so hello, connect the fucking dots.) We’re not friends. I’m a utensil. Actually, his wife dominates him, so he uses me to get the coddling she won’t give him. And I am reaching my breaking point. I don’t coddle my kid, I sure as hell am not going to coddle a grown man. I tell him he’s an ass, he laughs at me. Though since I learned being called a dumbass offends him, I’ve started using that more, in hopes it will make him not want me around. Bucket of fail thus far. I think the big clincher was Monday after my mom shredded me and I showed up in tears and he couldn’t even be bothered to give me a hug or a supportive, “Your mom’s a witch.” No, it was all about him, his busted stuff, his music he likes. REALLY dude? My self esteem is taking a beating here, for fuck’s sake.
Got a letter from the new job lady yesterday, wanting me to make an appointment. It’s been 15 months and I’ve gotten two interviews and nothing. This isn’t happening, no one wants to hire a defective like me. And I hate myself for claiming to be all better and ready to work when I am in fact NOT ready (unless it’s something I can do from home at my own pace.) Which is one of the biggest kicks in the teeth for me, is this program is SUPPOSED to be for people with mental disabilities, helping them find work they are capable of doing. Except all they ever want me to apply for are the very busy public service jobs that always sent me into a panic depressive downward spiral in the first place. Not helpful. And their idea of help finding a job is helping you fill out an application (I’m not illiterate) or giving you a ride (I have a car and a license.) They do NOTHING I can’t do for myself.
Just about done with it all. (Even my counselor makes me want to kill myself.) It’s all a good idea but utterly useless in practice. I mean, really, let’s take someone who has a history of melting down from fast paced public service jobs due to her panic attacks and have her apply for those same type of jobs. Not being snotty, not saying I am too good for them. But those who don’t learn fr0m the past are doomed to repeat it. I don’t want to repeat the past. I want to try something I might stand a chance of succeeding at. Plus, I have that damn misdemeanor arrest on my record, which really fucks up the whole thing.
Mostly I resent being forced to say I am ready when I am not. In some ways, I’m no better than I was when I went on disability. Yet I am expected to get over it, and I have tried, but…It’s not working out that way and if anyone knew a damn thing about me, they’d know not being able to support myself kills me. This is not laziness, this is a genuine long term disability. They make allowances for people in wheelchairs or those who can’t stand for long periods of time. They do NOT make allowances for people who can’t keep up due to panic attacks and there is no “mental health” day off for when the depression has you unable to function properly.
I feel screwed all around. Maybe it’s self pity, maybe it’s frustration.
Made a trip to the store. Got behind someone with a hundred items in a dollar store. That took for ever. My kid got called on the carpet by an employee for being behind a counter, after I’d just told her to get out of there. So she decided to have a screaming mimi from hell in the middle of the store. At this point, I just laugh at her. I have given up.
Truth be told, and you can keep your judgments to yourself BECAUSE THIS IS MY FUCKING OPINION…I think she needed a swat on the ass. But nooo, we can’t do that anymore because it might damage the little snowflakes. Which is why we have a world full of rude self centered ungrateful “if you don’t buy me an iphone, it’s abuse” brats. I got spanked and ya know what? It taught me to behave like a civilized human being. Kids used to get a swat on the butt in school.
This whole “it damages them psychologically” is bullshit. Beating, slapping in the face, whipping with a belt-THAT is abuse.
A quick swat on the butt…that used to be called parenting and discipline.
But no parents don’t have rights anymore. We are supposed to make kids behave with mystical magical unicorn powers.
Then when that brilliant passive aggressive plan fails, we are labeled bad parents for not being able to control our kids.
Yeah, I am really letting loose because that trip out today really sent me into a panic spiral. I took a klonopin, for all the good it is doing. But it’s not idle talk. This is what I believe and I am damn sick of being bullied into saying I don’t.
I don’t hit my child.
I put her in time outs.
But most of the problems I have with her…I do believe are because I don’t spank her. Because I am too afraid of some asshole coming in and declaring me unfit. So I have a kid who doesn’t respect me, won’t mind me, and nothing works with her yet I keep trying. And still, I know the people at the store were doing the “if my kid acted that way in public, I would be ashamed of my parenting” thing.
Days like this I just want to hang myself.
But I won’t, because by 5 pm I will probably be manic.
Oh and to top it all off, we saw The Donor standing outside his work. Or his gf’s work since he allegedly got a better job. He lies so much who knows. Seeing him just makes me dwell on his holier than thou lectures about how I make him feel like shit about himself.
Dude…You have THREE kids, and support NONE of them, and have no part in any of their lives.
Nothing I could possibly say could make a shittier person than your own actions.
Off to lick my wounds and maybe sneak a xanax. I obviously need to take a pill.
(FYI, all hate comments will be ignored and put into trash, so don’t bother. I am who I am.)