Daily Archives: April 9, 2013

The Same Coin

Yesterday, I found out that Baroness Margaret Thatcher died while I was working on my post for here. I have no real opinion on her; I accept that she was incredibly divisive and that a lot of people were worse off because of her actions as Prime Minister. But I also don’t have all the facts, and I am too young (and too foreign) to have been affected by her policies (Reagan and Bush, on the other hand… ¬¬). While I knew that she was unpopular in some corners, I was not ready for the sheer flaming vitriol from some corners, or the appalling irony that the worst of it seemed to come from pot-smoking hippies (way to miss your own remit, folks).

When I was a teenager, I remember burning with loathing for a former friend who had cast me aside over trivial things. I couldn’t magically afford distinctly different Christmas cards for all my friends (her and another friend opened theirs at the same time to find them the same and weren’t impressed; I was 12 at the time), nor did I worship Bette Midler. I was furious and torn up and bitter to be cast aside so easily, and I didn’t know what to do with the emotions raging through me. My mother looked at me and calmly stated that love and hate were different faces of the same coin, and if I wanted to be quit of someone who had cast me off so discourtesy, why was I wasting so much energy on hatred? Why was I giving someone who was undeserving of my attentions as much energy as I would invest on a loved one? It didn’t make the bitter feelings fade, but it *did* give me food for thought. I still catch myself with a few people that I wish my heart would quit that my loathing was just the coin of my love being turned over, and that these things do take time to pass, but still… to try to not feed that poisonous flame. In fact, one of my acquaintances said this yesterday:

‘…yet they’re actually damaging all the living beings still here to catch the splashback from rage and hate. i just don’t have that in me anymore, even for the people i truly loathe… and i can’t abide seeing the collateral damage left by hate.’

And that is definitely part of the thing — by carrying hatred, it poisons not only the bearer, but those around them. And I think that, perhaps, for those of us with bipolar and a lack of filtering ability, it’s even more brutal to have someone’s ill feelings brutally forced upon our attentions. I’ve got enough troubles managing my own spiking jagged emotions that any other strong feelings forced upon me are an imposition! And it still horrifies me that my unmanaged bipolar meant I was splashing all over people. I know how painful expelled emotions can be on unwary people in the vicinity, and I can only take comfort (a very very minor, freezing cold comfort) that I tried my hardest to minimize the damage as best I could.

So that begs the question — is it selfish to expect people to behave better? Or is that just setting a standard for one’s own life and times that is a completely reasonable boundary to have? I’m definitely not saying that people aren’t ‘allowed’ to have negative feelings, but that I expect people in my life to have a more mature and less vitriolic approach to expressing their concerns (Here is a great example was posted by one of my G+ friends yesterday). It’s good manners, and while I admit that I’m not perfect in that regard either, I certainly cannot see any room whatsoever for the hateful behaviors I saw yesterday. While some might think it hip to hate on public figures, it doesn’t change the fact that woman was a mother, a wife, a friend, and a sickly failing old woman. Would you want someone to do the same to your grandmother? I certainly wouldn’t.

Anyways, I will continue to hold up standards for those that I interact with, because in setting my own territory, I need to take care of me. That it makes the world a less hateful and chaotic place, well… bonus.

The post The Same Coin appeared first on The Scarlet B.

A-Z Challenge; G is for Google Mental Moment

G is for Google… That’s right I said it,  Google. Don’t get me wrong, I prefer Google, yet, there is something that is unsettling about it. Google is full of […]

Give an inch…and people will take two miles

Wasn’t a great day, wasn’t a horrible day.

Until I got home.

Then it just became a bucket of suck no matter how much I tried to keep on the happy face and pretend it was ok.

I was not through the door five minutes before the neighbor girl was knocking wanting my kid to come out and play. I mean, I didn’t even get my keys out of my hand and go pee and here this kid is, demanding an audience and getting my kid into a tantrum when I try to say no, I have things to do before we can go outside.

Quickly, one kid became SIX in my yard with me doing some free babysitting, while putting all of the stuff I needed to do on hold. Then the kids just began going inside without asking. Then they began messing with my kid’s tv and dvd player without asking. I couldn’t even offer my kid a snack because I can’t afford to feed five other kids.

They wanted me to let the indoor cats outside.


I told them to go home so I could feed my kid.

They were all back five minutes later playing on her swingset and screeching which got her into tantrum mode because I made her eat and told her we had too much to do and it was close to bedtime so no, she couldn’t go back out to play. AN HOUR I listened to her screech and cry and say I hurt her. Meanwhile, the kids with no supervision or manners are outside on her toys, hooting it up, which just made things even worse.

I just got to the point of being so stressed I told the girls “I can’t get my kid calmed down with you guys out there, you have to go home now.”

Maybe it was my upbringing, but you don’t invite yourself over, you don’t touch things that aren’t yours, and when told to go home, it doesn’t mean come back five minutes later only to be told to go home again and instead stay in the yard and play.

They’re children. They don’t know any better, fine I get it.

But having been TOLD clearly and concisely, why can’t they get it?

Now I am in panic attack paranoia meltdown mode because while I think I was in the right and I did nothing wrong…I am now scared their roughshod parents are going to come scream at me or flatten my tires for not agreeing to be their free babysitter all spring and summer. I don’t even know how to handle this properly. Every panic driven instinct tells me to just alienate them, let my kid wait til she starts school to socialize. I cannot stand people in my home, or touching our things, or screaming in my yard. I cannot stand people who cannot take a hint or follow a simple instruction.

Mostly, I can’t stand myself for being this staunch. But giving an inch has resorted in these kids taking two miles. One of the moms was cool tonight and told her kids when I said it was time to leave, they best leave.

But the mom of the other kids is never home, her bf is their caretaker, and his priority seems to be keeping them busy outside so he can be alone inside.

I don’t send my kid to their hours day after day for hours.

Why is it okay for them to do it to me?

Was I brought up a white trash snob? Am I being rude?

I don’t fucking know.

It was 8 o clock before I could even change my sweaty clothes and get comfy. I still haven’t gotten my supper at 9 pm. I’m sure to some I sound whiny.

But with the panic attack I came home with (um, 17 hours forgetting to take a xanax will do that) and not even getting to pee before the kid was at the door…It’s bad manners and it angers me. I predicted this would happen, though I wanted so badly to be wrong. But this town, the people just lack social filters, manners are not taught, and people will let their kids run feral or put them on someone else every time to avoid taking care of them themselves.

Not a judgment but an observation that includes my own family members.

How can I make grown men cry and shatter their fragile psyches but be so inept at handling kids under age 10? What the fuck is wrong with me?

I suppose it is an equilibrium thing. I spent all day gone, ending with a massive panic attack, got home, and got fracking thrown a curveball. I don’t lack the guts to tell these kids to go home, but I want so badly to make my kid happy and let her have a good childhood…I just wonder at what cost to myself. I like the idea of quid pro quo. Give and take.

Unfortunately, people only seem interested in taking and not giving and this is making my mood and attitude very hostile.

I have developed a new neuroses in recent years. I am absolutely obsessed with whether I smell bad. I have no idea if it’s all in my head or some sort of brain tumor sending the wrong messages, but there are some days in  spite of shower, perfume, lotion, spray…I still swear I smell bad. Even though Kenny is usually sniffing me and telling me I smell good. No one has complained. But it’s like nothing I do can convince my brain otherwise. It’s almost psychotic, and stress does make me sweat which could lead to body odor no matter how much deodorant I use…So am I stressing over it so much that maybe I didn’t smell to begin with but do after all the anxiety?

I know I am “not normal”, god knows being told that ten thousand times eventually convinces you.

But this is so far beyond normal, this is…borderline crazy stuff. Like locked in a ward crazy.

Freaks me out when you throw all the other stuff on it. I honestly don’t think it’s entirely my lack of social skills or being introverted. I really do think I crumble under too much activity and stress.

Which often leads me to think I should just die already, because life is nothing but activity and stress and if I can’t put on the big girl panties and deal with it, then I don’t deserve to be alive.

Or maybe I am just surfing Reddit too much and have started feeling even worse about myself when I see all the posts that while not geared toward me personally, make me realize just how cruel the world is to people who are overweight (like me) or have health issues (like me) or have a kid and receive any sort of wellfare (like me.)

I try not to care…

But Mr Depression is so very good at feeding scumbag brain.

Yes, I am nothing but a bucket of fail, I should die immediately.

Fuck you, Mr. Depression and Scumbag Brain.

I’m gonna live forever if only to spite you both.

My value is not determined by your opinions.

It’s determined by whatever mood swing I am having. ;)

How To Tell If You’re Crazy

Reblogged from The Official How To Blog:

Click to visit the original post

Today's guest post is brought to you Victoria Sawyer of Victoria's Angst.

Because I’m a certified crazy person myself, I am uniquely qualified to spot the crazy in others. Let’s start the assessment, no I said, let’s start the assessment. Listen to me...Do it. NOW!:

1. Your alcohol consumption. Does the alcohol actually talk to you? Does it beg to be sipped, delicately or does it demand to be chugged ASAP to drown out the fears?

Read more… 891 more words

OK so I'm trying to avoid writing the next post in the Child Abuse series by reblogging other people's awesome posts. I admit it. Maybe tomorrow I will find the strength to go on with what I know I must do, but for now.....enjoy this hilarious and enlightening "How-To" post!