What? You were expecting me to give you a list of unicorns? Ha ha ha. How about YOU give me a list on how to beat this bitch bipolar and her sister anxiety? It had best not include spewage like “exercise” or “have a positive attitude” or “lean on your family.” On second thought, keep your list. It’s all bullshit anyway.
So on the topic of bullshit…It is rainy, gray, windy, and cold today. I could sit under a thousand “happy lights” and it wouldn’t improve my mood. Of course, after yesterday, a low mood and exhaustion is to be expected.
My kid was behaving beautifully for the first three hours after she got home. I honestly thought I’d have this sparkling “I love being mommy, this kid is perfect!” post to spew. Nope.
World War Three started…because I told her I would staple her papers together the next time I went down the hall where the stapler is. From there, it was like a bomb detonated. She stomped, she cried, she screamed, she said she would sue me for being violent (even though all I did was hold my hand up to protect myself when she tried to slap me.) She sobbed and stomped and moaned for over an hour. Over a staple. Over me not doing it the instant she wanted it done.
Once again, I found myself scrambling for the sound recording function. I want people to hear and see this shit I have to deal with. I am not making it up, I am not instigating it. This child just goes off the deep end. And I don’t feed it, I tell her she can stay in her room and make herself sick crying but when she chooses to calm down she can come out and we will talk calmly.
Which instigates another half hour of her screaming.
I leave her in her room, going to check every few minutes if she’s quieted down. I offer her food. I tell her I’d like to talk to her about how her behavior is unacceptable. (And yes, my paranoid ass has been taping my side as well because I am busting my ass here and it’s like bloodying my head against a concrete wall.)
Eventually she came out, apologized, and the night proceeded quietly.
Oh, that is until bedtime when she started having another fit because I told her I’d be back to cuddle and tuck her in after I went to the bathroom. Having to wait three minutes sparked her again.
To say I was relieved when she went to sleep is an understatement.
I wanted to be all tough and grrrl power and do something I enjoy since I spent much of yesterday washing laundry and cleaning floors…But alas, I couldn’t work up the energy because I constantly hear the ticking clock reminding me I gotta do it all over again tomorrow so I best rest up. I took my sleeping pill before eight. Only to have R text twenty minutes later and ask if I wanted Mangoritas…It’s like, geesh, his wife’s back to work, all his cool friends are busy, and he wants me to listen to him vent…Nope.
I made up for being anti social that way by offering to bring him Sloppy Joe’s for lunch today.
Truth be told, I despise Restoril. It doesn’t kick in fast, doesn’t keep me down, and makes me ten kinds of disoriented. This morning I shut the alarm off, swearing it was Saturday because my brain was in a fog. I am soooo looking forward to tomorrow and check day so I can some melatonin. Least it doesn’t take four hours to kick in or leave me feeling psychotically confused.
Now to be fair, because I’ve noted a comment here and there where some seem to think I am picking on my child and not letting her simply be a kid…To her credit yesterday, I told her we were going to start cleaning out her room. And all I had to do was give her trash bags and set her loose to decide what she wanted to keep and what she didn’t want. She filled three big trash bags, not a single fit. She is NOT the devil child even if I joke about it. But something in her rapid outbursts from happy to raging just makes me think ADD or early onset bipolar. Something comes over her, it can’t be reasoned with, and since so many have written me off due to my “fits”…I guess I am keeping an open mind rather than just assuming she’s “bad”. I used to tell the donor there are no bad kids, there are only kids who behave badly. He told me I was full of shit. In light of current studies showing psychopathy being diagnosed in small children, maybe he’s right. But MY kid gets the benefit of the doubt even if at the end most days, I want to crawl in the claws and curse my uterus for serving its purpose.
On another note…Well meaning or not, my mom and sister stopped by yesterday, letting me know exactly where I stand. They brought Spook a Happy Meal because apparently I am depriving her by spending money on actual things we have to have. And then, “Here’s half a breaded tenderloin mom ate, she didn’t like it.”
Yep. I get the half eaten food that apparently doesn’t taste good.
Awesome! Except I thought it tasted fine and I was grateful. JUst found it curious they bring Spook an entire meal but I get discards. Not much different than when dad takes the kid out, they never invite me along, never bring me anything back. I may as well not as exist.
Most of the time, I like not being in everyone’s face, being in the background. I just often wish my family were more subtle in the ways they let me know I am subpar.
Not sure if I mentioned it with all my ranting about mommy issues…Friday when I was beckoned to the shop, it was because R have me an Acer laptop, 2012 model, that a customer brought in, refused to shell out twenty bucks for the repair, and left it over the 30 days policy. I toyed with it the other night, I like Windows 7, but it’s so full of malware and viruses, it’s gonna take forever to get it workable. (67 threats detected on quick scan alone.) But the point is, when people point out all the computers I have…THIS is how I’ve gotten them. Freebies. Self fixer uppers. Would I love a decked out Alienware? Hells,yeah. Will life go on without it? Hells yeah.
Has anyone ever used Splat hair dye? I recently did “crimson obsession” streaks in my black hair and I looove them. That shit is messy and stains everything, though. Proof being two weeks later, Chaos is still sporting a glop that fell on her.
My ever creative child sat out on the step yesterday. Rather than play with weeble wobbles, little people, Barbies… This is the motley crew she assembled.
Yep. Kung Fu Panda, Frankenstein, and Olaf all holding hands. Talk about a messed up threesome.
Oh, and on a final note…Sass, be prepared to die of shock….Rather than spring twenty extra bucks for a color I like…I, gasp, settled on a hot pink camera.
Ok, I’ll humor y’all. Ten things to cure bipolar.
10. Lobotomy
9.) dying
8.) drinking. a lot
7. snorting sea monkeys (Comet will do in a pinch)
6.) Drinking bleach
5.) throttling dish dwellers.
4.) riding a pegacorn naked through the barbwire dildo forest
3.) huffing purring cats
2.) Load up on meds and sleep 3/4 of the time
1.)Realize there is no cure for bipolar and SUCK IT THE FUCK IT COS CRAZY IS THE NEW BLACK AND ORANGE AND WE SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH AFTER KICKING ASS AND TAKING OVER DURING MANIC RAGES!
****This list is intended only for sarcastic purposes, please do not do any of the above except for #1*****
Me: I have a heavy burden, a very fragile one. With broken pieces, jagged pieces. I am tired, I’ve carried it all my life, World, can you help me bear it?
This is a post by https://borderlinepersonalitydisorder99.wordpress.com
For some of us, life is fun and games, lightness and happiness, do you know how lucky you are? Very! For some of us, life is a burden, heavy and dismal. Why are some blessed and some cursed? What determines which one you are? Some people are so lucky to be well adjusted and happy, while others struggle and deal with the heartbreakingly intense emotions of failure, and profound sadness. The crazy thing is that it can be as simple as all chance, your parents were sane and didn’t abuse the hell out of you, you are also sane and well adjusted. You were not as lucky, your parents were insane and subjected you to unspeakable abuse, well you are damaged. Is there truly a way to heal yourself? I will see. I am sure going to give it my all.
