Since we are being forced to move thus costing money we simply do not have…We are having a fundraiser Even $5 helps buy a gallon and a half of gas for this out of town move, so don’t think it’s too small an amount to bother. It means the world to me, my daughter, and our cats.
So even if you don’t donate to people…do it for our sweet kitties. Their pictures will take you to the page where you need to be. Even a share on social media matters so do us a solid, please.
Hex says ‘please help us move.’
Godsmack says, “Life is too awful to look at right now, mommy can’t even buy us canned food!”
“Mommy calls us the terror twins but only because we’re so cute she can’t be too mad when we chew up her shoelaces.”-say the cuddling siblings Vex and Hex.
Vex likes laying on Spook’s dollhouse bed. He is going to be crushed when he keeps growing and the doll bed doesn’t!
Godsmack is perplexed as she used to fit into the doll pool perfectly. Now…if she sits, she fits, but not for much longer.
There was no room in the pool so Hex settled for poolside with Godsmackers.
As for me…my mental health is in hellish limbo, don’t stop, don’t go, and when we can go, well, I am at the mercy of others so even when we cang go it’s just a few inches which feels like accomplishing nothing. Meanwhile the clock on needing to be out of here before the backstabbing slumlord-mgmt company overlord decides to swoop om, lock the doors, and prevent us from getting all our stuff out.
My appetite is up a bit, maybe because I’m barely sleeping more than 3 or 4 hours a night and that’s interrupted with nightmares and waking in a panic, unable to slow down my mind and get back to sleep. Guess the lack of rest has to be supplemented by eating to fuel my body. I am just ready to curl up in a ball. And having my kid ask me ten times a day if we’re going to be okay is grueling… Worse is when she has one of her mood swings cos I’ve said no to something she wants so she starts screaming how I never have any money and I am going to make her be homeless.
It’s very hard to run on empty and with that weighing on me…
I fear if we ever get this move pulled off and the carousel does stop turning…I may be in a room with padded walls. The human psych can take whatever the world dishes…until it can’t. And that’s the terrifying part. People ten times tougher than me have flailed and collapsed under the weight of life’s bullshit and mental health torment. There’s nothing that makes me different or special and if sheer will and desire to fight and perservere were enough…well, there’d be no need for psychiatrists, therapies, mental hospitals, or medications.
Wing and a prayer. That’s where I am right now. And since I’m not very religious…I’m more hoping this one wing will help keep me from crashing into the ground.