Considering the new DSM considers caffeine withdrawal a psychological condition, I think they should also add “frustration with multiple facets of life to the point of wanting to claw one’s own eyeballs out”.
I really do not like to whine. I bitch and vent but I do not like to whine.
It just turned into one of those days where frustration has lead to anger and irritation, mostly with my kid. She won’t listen to a word I say. She asks “why” to every word out of my mouth. She yells “NO!I don’t want to!” to every directive I give. Use of the nice mommy voice accomplishes nothing. The satan voice is more effective but has the down side of making me feel like a really crappy mother.
It’s so weird, that 5 days when it was just me and her without me going to the shop or going to my mom’s, things were relatively calm. She’s a high spirited hyper kid, but we didn’t have so much acting out and mouthing off.
My primary problem for the last year or so is when we go out in public. That is when she really acts out in a major way, and she will not listen to me, and the satan voice gets more reaction from people in our vicinity than from her. I end up feeling so disrespected and utterly inept. I used to be one of those sn0tty non parents who’d see a kid acting up in public and make some stupid comment, “If that was my kid, I’d spank their ass.” Ha ha ha. Until you have a kid, you know shit. I see spanking as an absolute last resort. Even then, I am reluctant to be deduced to it.
But I am at the end of my rope with my kid. We went to R’s house today so he could take a look at the muffler, which has snapped in half, and the whole time all she did was sass me and defy me and refuse to listen to a word I said. I was getting irate and stressing out (it occurred to me I hadn’t had a xanax in awhile and I thought maybe that was a contributing factor, but the bottom line is, my kid minds everyone but me and damn it, is IS fucking irritating and if grumpy voice has to emerge to get something accomplished, fuck these people and their tongue clicking judgment of my parenting ability.)
R said, “It just needs to be welded back, we can do it Monday, I’ll pay for it, no big shakes.”
And there was his wife and middle daughter to hear it. No doubt his wife will be on the warpath and accusing me of being as big a mooch as Kenny. It makes me feel shitty that I can’t afford to take care of my own damn car. I just don’t know what to do about it. If I were ever in my right mind for more than a few hours, I might entertain starting school. But my lack of stability makes me reluctant. It would do more harm than good to embark on something and fail at it than wait until I am in a better mental place. Sunshine spewer accused me of using it as an excuse, but I have made the mistake many times in my past. Being on shaky mental ground, launching into jobs, relationships, schooling…Only to fail. Not anxious to repeat history.
Had to get groceries. Spook was just as insolent there as at R’s. I was ready to step in front of a speeding car because I am just beginning to feel so incompetent at this parenting thing.
And then I go back to what his middle daughter said last night, “I’m not happy unless I am busy and stressing out, it’s the only way I can be happy.”
And my first reaction was an eye roll then a cringe, followed by berating myself for being such a freak who can barely walk and chew gum at the same time, meanwhile I am surrounded by all these workaholic super achievers.
I cannot believe it is only 6:30 pm. This has been a very long, very irritating day. And again, back in a debate with the toddler from hell, who can’t accept the word no, she has to turn it into a 15 minute ordeal of feet stomping and screaming and telling me she doesn’t like me. Joy, joy. I do everything for her and she doesn’t like me. Karma.
I cannot believe yesterday was soo smooth and today has just been, grrrrrr, I want to chew on railroad spikes. This level of frustration and irritation have manifested as anxiety. My ear is itching, most likely the fan blowing my hair around. But scumbag brain is telling me people are talking bad about me. And well, I guess they have reason to, because I am apparently a waste of space by societal standards.
It occurred to me earlier that people, on a whole, and society in general, do not base people on their worth as a person, but as the sum of their accomplishments, successes, material trappings, and physical appearance. In which case, I am literally nothing.
But that’s sheeple thinking and my motto is fuck sheeple. I am not perfect, but I am a beautiful mess with flaws and attractive facets. I will not deem my self worth based on the fact that I have accomplished little in my life other than having a child and surviving mental illness.
Oh, well. The neighbor girl is here, yapping at me even though I am obviously busy. My kid is showing off, cats are climbing on me. Damiana wants food and drink. (Do these people ever feed their kids enough???) I am on edge. Maybe another xanax is in order. Though I have been making do most days with 0.5 mg instead of 1.5 mg, and I’d like to keep to that if I can. It will hurt less when she takes my lifeline away. In which case, the plan is just to drink heavily. Though since I cut down to a few drinks one night a week, I feel sooo much better.
Mental illness is a trade off though. if she does take my xanax, booze is the only way I will survive.
Oh wow, my child is blubbering again for taking a butterfly net away from her after she swung it inside like a baseball bat. I am awful. She doesn’t like me.
Well, I’m not liking me much either today.
This is why I’d just as soon have all sucky days. Because one good day gives me the taste of what normalcy could be like, then everything goes to shit, and I am sitting here all but licking metaphoric wounds. Bloody hell.
Wow. Damiana is really dense. I told her, explicitly, to go play with my kid, and still, she is right here, yapping at me. Had my day not been sucky, I might not be so pissy. But for fuck’s sake, why am I so clear to the people around me and yet none of them listen to me and act like I never spoke in the first place? Am I really that insignificant?
So, yeah…Frustration and irritation should totally be a psych disorder. In which case, I am going to make oodles of money as the poster child. And with my level of disturbance, I will need every cent just to manage my disorders.
I’d spew some sunshine and rainbows in my newfound effort to be more positive but my kid and her friend are fighting and I need to go be a referee.
The glamorous life.