I survived the holiday madness only to have a complete meltdown last night. I panicked and called the local counseling center because my kid went ballistic when I tried to move her table as she had it blocking her path in her room thus making it a fire hazard…She attacked me, then tried to break the dvd player.This, after her trying to stab me with a pen in the morning, because she insisted family is spelled -ey and no amount of proof-dictionary, google, our state family medical card…nothing was getting through to her and she came at me. So…I cracked my lids.
I guess I was so upset the on call counseling operator decided I needed bigger guns than they had on call cos I was referred to an 800 number then put through half an hour of questions about me and my kid and did I feel I needed them to send authorities to come take her away. THIS IS WHAT I AM TRYING TO FUCKING AVOID!!! This is why I’ve been reluctant to push too hard on the counseling angle, because rather than let me talk and seek advice, they want to take the most drastic route. And by then Spook had calmed down, so much so I assumed while I was bawling on the phone to this random operator that she had worn herself to sleep.
Nope. She was awake and started crying and saying she didn’t want to be taken away, but then she flip flopped and said it’d be okay if they took her away for two weeks as long as they didn’t make her eat nasty food and we could talk on the phone. (Feel the fucking love???) This all followed me daring to be stupid enough to confided in my mother about Spook trying to stab me and my mom snapping, “You need to stop putting off getting her help!”
So I tried to get her some help only to be rejected by the local place, which was fine, I didn’t even want to go there as their child psych pro happens to be R’s judgmental eldest daughter with the master’s degree…So after being rejected and referred what I got was A.) “We’ll send someone to your house tonight to remove her” or B,” “Call this number Monday” for a counseling center 90 miles away from us. Um..Yeah, that’s the psych ward my sister and brother both spent time in as teenagers cos they were ‘troubled youth’. My kid does not need hospitalized, we do not need to be seperated or have our home invaded by ‘behavioral experts’. My kid needs evaluated by a shrink because all this aggressive slash violent behavior seems triggered by the word no, and worsened by being shoveled sweets (my mom let her eat an entire pie Thanksgiving day behind my back, thus turning her feral).
I reached out for logical help, not drastic measures and certainly not signing my kid into a psychiatric hospital. Once again, good intentions lead to being made to feel even worse for reaching out because now I’m in some system and they probably will come take my kid away and not because she is violent toward me but because our house is falling apart, messy, and oh, our heat went out again and R is out of town til at least Wednesday night (thank God we are having a warm burst the next 5 days)…
I wanted counseling for her, maybe sessions for us together. I want help figuring out how to curb her behaviors, how to handle my own reactions to them, and because I reached out for help during a meltdown that was a long time coming considering how hormonal and stressed I have been as of late…they will probably come to our door and see my nasty caved in floors and threadbare carpet no shampooer can get truly clean and of course, one of the kittens will have likely hurled ten seconds prior thus making it look like I don’t clean up after them and…
I need to breathe. I am panicking.
Maybe calling that behavior center would be a good thing. But my car shimmies over 25 miles an hour so I’m not gonna be driving her 180 miles to a psych ward and her state insurance won’t cover it anyway which was why in my dark hour of need I tried the local center. Even though it would be an enormous conflict of interest (would any of YOU want to take your kid or yourself to a center where their prized therapist sat in front of you at a cookout and griped about being on call and having to check in on a client and saying “I really don’t want to talk to this bitch” about said client????????????????????????????). Oh and let us not forget the confidentiality breaches left and right that come from that same place, and that precededed Ms. Master’s Degree, it’s just a small town and when family members get the same counselor, for some reason the counselor thinks that means confidentiality is waived…Oh and let me add, Ms. Child Pyschology Wunderkind just had to remove her Kindgertner from religious school due to behavior issues and put her in lowly public school…If she’s got a child of her own that’s problematic, how is that gonna help me with my child? Especially because the times we’ve been around her socially she has exhibited nothing but judgment and critiquing my child…
I’m spiraling, I know. I am just fucking freaked out.
I am further melting down with the shop stress as he’s been gone almost two weeks, nothing is getting done, people are pissed and wanting their money back and take their stuff elsewhere…I can’t handle the confrontation on top of everything else.
I am out of talk time on my phone so I got a crappy free app which apparently has echo feedback from hell and I realized with no minutes on my own number, the school can’t reach me should Spook need to come home so I went to the page to try to edit personal info and at least put in the app number as secondary and it wouldn’t let me change my own fucking information.
The new kitten, Vex, is still keeping me awake half the nights, as is Spook, entering another one of her sleep with mommy phases so even my bed and sleep are nightmares.
I am trying to be strong and tough it out but inside, I am fucking screaming my fool head off.
Amidst all the chaos of holiday week, I missed a couple of days of my meds ( I can’t juggle everything,ffs!) so when I took my Trintellix this morning, I got sicker than a dog. I forgot how harsh the 5 mg was, let alone missing the 20 mg a couple of days and popping back on it. I started feeling better but for several hours, I was in gastric hell. I’ve given up on Wellbutrin, whatever it was doing has ended. I am hopeless for the most part.
Yet I fantasize about just abandoning this whole ‘normal conventional’life and doing something different…like moving to Mexico and selling tourist crap or finding some small coastal town in Maine and spending days on the beach playing with my kid. I want to leave behind all this stressful shit of politics and whether the president is a good person or whether taking a knee at a ballgame is some big crime against America…I just want to be at peace and lead a quiet life with bouts of pure joy. We don’t need fancy stuff. In fact, acquiring all the stuff we have actually makes me less happy because my chaotic brain can’t organize for shit and it just piles up and becomes a depressing hindrance and I can’t even sort myself enough to start pitching whatever I can live without.
I am a hot fucking mess and not even one that’s fascinating. But if anyone every says I’m not giving it my all and trying my hardest, even to my own psychological detriment, I’ll gladly call them liars to their face. I am giving everything I’ve got and then some and ya know what I am getting in return?
A nervous breakdown and probably some do gooder who will take my kid away because I dared to reach out for advice when I hit my breaking point and didn’t know how to handle being attacked by an 8 year old.
I need a time out. From R’s demands, from my family’s put downs, from my kid’s tantrums…But my kid and I are bonded and her fits are my cross to bear. I can’t help thinking we both just need out of this humdrum existence. A clean break, far away from the oppression of my family and this town.
Sounds loopy and naive, right?
Loops and naive could prove to be our savior so I’m not ruling it out. Adults can run away from home. I just need to get my head on straight, calm down, and start figuring out how to find this peaceful place where my daughter and I can enjoy life. There will be struggle, always, but I have to have faith that somewhere there is a place for us where we would be calmer, happier, and maybe live happily ever after. Loopy and naive are all I have left.
I don’t see how a desire to live near a beach is so fanciful, though. It doesn’t have to be Malibu. Just some place far from my skeletons and demons, where I could start to heal, where I could introduce Spook to a vast culture and a variety things this place doesn’t offer…
Maybe I’m loopy. Maybe I am mid breakdown and in denial.
Or maybe I am finally realizing that possessions don’t mean that much, but environment, especially one that nourishes your spirit, could be just what the doctor didn’t order but is desperately needed.