Daily Archives: April 7, 2013

Socialization- even second hand- is exhausting

The last two days I have been “attempting” t0 meet my child halfway by letting her play outside with a 7 year old neighbor girl. I mean, my social skills are limited and I know my kid needs to rise above that…So I assume my perpetual state of “quid pro quo” mentality, thinking if I give her two and a half hours play time with this other girl, then maybe she’ll be more cooperative in letting me get housework and such done.

Ha ha ha.

My child is the epitome of non cooperation. Karma sinks its fangs into the old butt cheek again.

Her 20 minute screaming tantrum when I told her it was time to go inside earned her a time out and a nap. And not ten minutes after I sent the little neighbor girl home, she was back knocking at the door. Even though told my kid was going for a nap. I know she’s only seven and probably has limited parenting considering she runs the neighborhood pretty much every hour of daylight, but still…Basic manners would not be out of bounds here.

Plus it is starting to feel like I am giving an inch and this kid is going to take a mile. The whole time she was here she kept telling me about all the food at her house but it has to last 20 days so they don’t get but two meals and a snack and she was sooo hungry and soo thirsty. So she was asking me for drinks and food, and while I don’t mind sharing, at what point does it become rude and just asking too much? Not like I’m flush with money, ya know. We had her for pizza last night (dad and his crew brought it and we all ate outside.)

I don’t want to be a bad person.

But I also remember when my sister was a kid and she practically had company 18 hours a day, 7 days a week, eating all our food and taking our stuff. They would never go home. And considering what a solitary person I am, it’s not likely I am going inherit my mom’s lack of spine and let it go on with my kid.

Spook needs to socialize and play, fine.

But we also have other things to do and we need our food for us and I am really lost on where to draw the line, especially since two and half hours today really put me into anxiety riddled pissy little bitch territory. I put my day of housekeeping on hold, and instead of gratitude, I got a long winded screaming mimi and a neighbor kid who apparently has a limited grasp of first grade english. So why bother? It’s much easier to just be nasty and anti social.

The things we do for our kids, huh?

I am about people’d out. Dad and his clan were here two nights straight, R invited us to a cookout which we couldn’t go to since we had company, and my kid’s had company two straight days. Throw in the heat in this trailer, all the housework that never ends, my nerve endings screeching at me in protest of pushing my limitations so hard and being something I simply am not…

It is exhausting.

Not whining, just being honest. I am trying, though. I hope it counts for something.

Now my paranoid brain is just imagining how much summer is going to suck with all the kids running feral day in and out into the night hours and no doubt in my yard to play on her swingset and knocking on my door and…

Breathe, must breathe.

I suck.

I really hate being me sometimes, because I am such a trainwreck and so lacking in basic skills and civility. I’d like to blame it all on growing up isolated and just adapting and I am really lonely and sad…

But I am not. Even when I had friends, I got to the point where I told them to go home, I wanted to be alone. My mom screamed at me for being rude but if people don’t know when they have overstayed their welcome, I feel justified in informing them.

The ugly truth is, even if you remove the moods and anxiety…I’d still opt to spend a great amount of time alone or just with my kid. Because most of my interests don’t require other participants and I am quite comfortable with my own company. If I feel the need to be social (usually when manic or bored) I will seek out company. Otherwise, this is my norm, always has been, and my resentment of being called anti social is enormous.

So if I am just being who I am…

Why do I feel like I am gonna be the worst mom ever and screw my kid up by not having a half dozen people around constantly?

My mother’s programming, no doubt.

I need an exorcism of that woman.

Now…onto the next panic attack. R texted and asked if I was home and I replied…But have heard nothing. My cell service has not been reliable lately of delivering my messages, so it could be I’ll get it three hours from now. Or maybe something has gone wrong or he needs parts or…Since the brainiack Kenny quit his job, maybe I am going to be thrown under the bus and told not to come around so he can help Kenny out by tossing him some cash for work. It wouldn’t shock me, R throws me under the bus frequently with customers when he forgets shit and blames it on me. And I get really sick of hearing how broke he is, but he always has money to loan Kenny or give his wife for shopping even though she makes three times what he does. No, I would not be surprised at all if I have put in all my time for car repairs but he’d hire Kenny and actually pay him. I adore R, I trust him implicitly, but he has demonstrated what he is about…And I am paranoid with reason.

Amazing how no matter how innocuous an event, I can find a way to panic over what it could be.

I am gifted that way.

Unfortunately, I am wrong so rarely, it just seems common sense to assume the worst then be pleasantly surprised in the event I am wrong.

Never claimed to be mentally well.


depression comix #118

Reblogged from depression comix:

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Clay did it again. I wanted to keep this side of me hidden, but he outed me so well, it doesn't seem honest to hide it any more. This is how I feel.

A Sort of Error in Judgement

Because I’ve been having this long mixed episode or whatever, I figured I’d opt to take 100 of my 350mg of Seroquel in the morning. That pill isn’t extended release like the rest, so I hoped it might help soothe down frazzles a bit more. What it seems to be doing, of course, is turning me into a waking/dozing zombie.

What’s worse (and many of you will agree) is that I *should* know better. When I first started Seroquel in the days before my diagnosis and paperwork was lost, I was taking 2 25mgs first thing in the morning (which is 9am~ for me). It took me  a good four or five hours of assdraggery to feel even the remotest bit alert. My hands are leaden and wonky, my eyes are fluttering shut, and yeah… maybe I am not noticing anxiety spikes, but that’s always going to be the case when one is nearly flat-out on their desk.

So yeah, we’ll be moving that back to nighttime post-haste. For the moment, it’s time to debate coffee versus crawling back into bed. ¬¬

<3

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A-Z Challenge; F is for Feminist Movement Mental Moment

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