Okay, so maybe nothing that dramatic but it is the last day of school which means for two and a half months…my already fractured brain and fried central nervous system will be held hostage and assaulted daily by Spook and her merry band of desperadoes.
On one hand…Yay, no dragging ass out of bed to meet her school schedule.
On the other…her yelping to play with her friends at 9 a.m. seven days a week.
I tried to get her into a summer program. Apparently “Is there a scholarship available because I can’t afford full price” means you don’t even warrant an email reply from the Y. Maybe I can find things for her to do, but I just resent being driven from my safe space to escape all these kids. Great, she has friends, she is popular.
It just never ends well. Her, around her friends, means she becomes more mouthy and disrespectful and argues with me every time I say no to an extreme I don’t even see when her friends aren’t around. And to make matters worse, these kids show up before 10 a.m. and are still knocking at 8 p.m. wanting her to play which makes it stressful for me to give her a supper time, a bath time, a bed time. The minute they show up, she goes off if I say no.
And as I told her yesterday when she said she didn’t like me because she mouthed off and I made her come inside…My job is not to be your friend, it’s too teach you right from wrong and keep you safe.
AND IT IS A SUCKY SOUL EATING THANKLESS JOB.
In addition to pre summer dread is the post summer dread when I have to pull blood from a stone to get her new school clothes and all the supplies then attend all the start of school stuff that get me so stressed…Two and a half months away and still enough to give me a stress stomach ache. Not that my mental health care provider seems to think any of this is a problem cos last time he saw me 4 weeks ago, I was having a less insane day thus he took it to me I am doing much better, here’s a nurse, talk to her, you’re A Okay.
NO I am never gonna stop harping on that. 24 years of psych care and never once was I shunted off onto a nurse. She might well be more understanding, hell she could suggest the magic bullet that gets me six good months, IDK. I just think it’s shitty to stick a patient in an 8 month seasonal depression in a position of feeling like they’re not even worthy of seeing their own doctor.
The anxiety is getting to me all over the map. I woke at 3:30 this morning amidst a pile of cats in my bed and realize…my softer mattress is helping my back pain, it’s playing bed Twister to avoid crushing a cat that is making me wake up all sore and feeling crooked. But there was no getting back to sleep immediately. I tried for an hour and a half. Stroked a kitten hoping purr therapy would work. By 5 a.m. it was 0.5 Xanax time. Which gave me a half hour to nod off and ninety minutes to sleep, give or take. When my sleep is disrupted like that, it usually means I am going to have a really shitty mental health day. It’s not the amount of sleep I get, it’s how much uninterrupted sleep I get. Not that the professionals understand that, either.
I took her to school, put gas in the car, and paid car insurance on line. Now I am gonna watch the season finale of Special Victims Unit because I do so love when fiction mirrors reality and I am reminded what this country has come to. A bunch of hate mongering assholes who think Muslims are all terrorists which is akin to saying all people with blue eyes are Hitler petri dish mutations.
I may be mental but the world is a cesspool of ignorance and it doesn’t take sanity or a brain surgeon to see that.