Daily Archives: October 23, 2015

7 hours. That’s roughly how long I have to wait until I am free for a weekend minus the daily stress of school pick ups. It’s gotta be bad when you look forward to it like a stay on your execution. Think my kid is having a sleepover with Grandma tonight (she’s earned it, four oranges this week meaning outstanding behavior even if she brings home purple today)  but it’s not been confirmed. Never know with those people. And yeah, that is how I view my family most of the time. Two factions, Mom’s crew/Dad’s crew, and while tied by blood…I’ve never felt part of either group. Those people. Not my people, not my family. Those people. And I often wonder how I got to be this disconnected and fucked up, not like I was ever abused or abandoned…

Except when those who are supposed to love you unconditionally yet can’t support you during your harshest bouts with mental illness…It is like being abandoned, rejected, even abused. Those people indeed. But my kid adores her grandparents and aunt, and I deserve an occasional break so…whatever. It’s always interesting to see what flaws my mother or father can berate me for next.

So 7 hours til I can truly breathe and have some much needed me time which after a couple of hours will morph into “I don’t who me is anymore except a mom, I miss my kid.” Sad but true.

After my post about blowing up the box with a different style of music, reeking of that sunshine spewage rainbow pooping optimism…Well, LIFE. Yesterday was fine, I gave myself permission to leave that irritating living room of purple and white pastel curtains that let in all that obnoxious sunlight. I don’t dispute what a plus sunlight is for depression. I do however know for a fact it triggers my anxiety to the max so I am working to find a balance between adhering to the doctor’s advice to do “light therapy” for my depression, as well as my own dimly lit crypt therapy to calm my nerves and make me feel safe. For about three hours I had a respite, watched my fave shows, didn’t feel like I had a target painted on me while everyone is packing a gun.

Then came the bubble burst. R invited me to the shop for lunch. As it was taco Thursday at a local bar, I couldn’t really resist. I am not a taco fan and fuck burritos (someone puked into flatbread, woo hoo) but this place fries their own shell so it’s flaky and layered, the perfect mix of crunch and soft. I only have the taco meat and cheese, but for three bucks, you get a taco that would take about five Taco Hell cheapies to make. Yeah, I’m a cheap date, offer me a taco, I’ll brave the dish. In all fairness though…I blew him off the other day cos I was in such bad shape with my nerves, I technically owed it to him to go in and finish off a project that’s needed doing for over a year. With this mental shit, needing to do it doesn’t making it any easier, nor does wanting to do it.

No sooner than getting there and fetching lunch (bar was busy and yet I didn’t spaz cos ya know, dim lighting and all, it was calming, bright light just sets me off) and finishing the overdue shit…My sister called, finally wanting to take Orchid to the vet. So I had to come back home and pet taxi him then she came and got him, then I went back to the shop. Grr, I am sick of driving the same street everyday, it leads right from my house, to the school, to his shop. Over and over and over. To go around is extra mileage and still monotonous. On the plus time, I only had an hour before I could leave to fetch my kid.

Got her, came home, sis brought the cat back. I have to give him two doses of mega antibiotic til it’s gone. If it cures his anal leakage issue, it’s worth it. She paid, and all. As usual, told the spawn to do homework. Which she promptly began to channel satan over, because she doesn’t want to make an effort, she just wants me to give her the answers and when I don’t (this is her latest manipulation ploy) “You hate me, I know you do!” I think it’s stupid to make them spend six hours at school learning then send them home to do more homework. They’re six, for fuck’s sake. And the battle with her tantrums makes me wonder if she’s learning a thing at all or going through the motions. There are no real instructions and what they are teaching them to learn their math tables these days is far more complex than anything I’ve ever seen. Seriously, make them memorize the tables. Mine stuck like glue aside from fractions or anything related to algebra.

So yeah, she had a forty five minute fit over the homework, wouldn’t listen to a word I said to try and help, she threw her pencil and clipboard and kept screaming how I hate her…The stress does not end with the dish these days. Mid her homework, R calls to ask how to get that Fratian netbook’s external wifi to connect. (And he has a degree in repair but can’t walk through a self set up of four clicks???) I told him. He called back two minutes later and said I had to come do it, the guy was waiting. (The guy was there when I left waiting, cos his highness had me call and say shit was done when in fact, the other laptop belonging to this guy was in pieces!!!) So I had to pack the kid into the car, rush back to the shop…I had the damn thing up in ten minutes (would have been three mins but ya know, windows ass suck 8.1). Then the fratian guy wants me to change the language, the theme. He complained it didn’t look like the other computer. Well it was the browser and the netbook had only IE (puke) while he was using Chrome on the other one (also puke.) Chrome takes forfuckingever to download so I was there waiting for fuckingever…Once done with that R asked me to go fetch him a pop and smokes…Grrbbb,I didn’t think the dish torture would ever end.

We came home, finally the homework got done, we got showers to cool down, I fed her…But I couldn’t be bothered to feed myself. R had said he might stop by and my blood sugar had dipped so I was all woozy and overwhelmed, hoping he’d flake. (Yes, I bitch when he flakes, but the depression gives zero fucks.) I was just so anxiety laden I didn’t want to do a thing but vegetate in my crypt. Which of course means…he showed up.

In the end…it was worth it. He introduced me to a show called John Doe, and paid to have some Dominos parmesan bites delivered. Shallow, but I needed food and he offered so…what the hell. I survived the socialization. Barely.

Per usual I woke several times during the night. Come the three alarms to get up, my mind sees it’s still dark out and rejects the idea that this is the start of the day as opposed to the end. Demotivating giraffe time. I am supposed to be at the shop right now but Bex and I have a standing date to watch AHS Hotel together and I have to wait for her schedule to free up which means…he’s gonna have to wait. It’s ok, I am willing to extend my dish time a bit after I drop Spook at mom’s, if I HAVE to, and the cats are out of food so I do indeed HAVE to go kiss ass and earn usage of the credit card.

I got a giggle last night when I put on music, and flat out told him “You’re gonna hate it,but this is my revenge for making me listen to Toto.” I put on the Empire soundtrack. I thought he was gonna implode. “Why are you listening to this shit? You don’t even like this kind of music!” And he’s not wrong, he’s also not right. I do love my heavy metal. But my mind is open to whatever moves me and I am really into well written songs that resonate. I don’t care if it’s throat singing or banging on metal pans…If it touches me, I like it. Hell, I still listen to some Culture club songs because they were well written and oy George has a beautiful, soothing voice. (Boy knew how to rock eyeliner, too.) But yeah…Revenge for Toto.

Okay, this has been a long post and for that I suck and I truly do thank anyone who can roll with it to the end even if in increments. Probably why I am not a popular blogger, I do ramble and my content is never truly consistent. But as my first page declares…This is mental chaos. This is my mind, my life.

If reading it makes your head hurt, imagine living it.

7 hours. That’s roughly how long I have to wait until I am free for a weekend minus the daily stress of school pick ups. It’s gotta be bad when you look forward to it like a stay on your execution. Think my kid is having a sleepover with Grandma tonight (she’s earned it, four oranges this week meaning outstanding behavior even if she brings home purple today)  but it’s not been confirmed. Never know with those people. And yeah, that is how I view my family most of the time. Two factions, Mom’s crew/Dad’s crew, and while tied by blood…I’ve never felt part of either group. Those people. Not my people, not my family. Those people. And I often wonder how I got to be this disconnected and fucked up, not like I was ever abused or abandoned…

Except when those who are supposed to love you unconditionally yet can’t support you during your harshest bouts with mental illness…It is like being abandoned, rejected, even abused. Those people indeed. But my kid adores her grandparents and aunt, and I deserve an occasional break so…whatever. It’s always interesting to see what flaws my mother or father can berate me for next.

So 7 hours til I can truly breathe and have some much needed me time which after a couple of hours will morph into “I don’t who me is anymore except a mom, I miss my kid.” Sad but true.

After my post about blowing up the box with a different style of music, reeking of that sunshine spewage rainbow pooping optimism…Well, LIFE. Yesterday was fine, I gave myself permission to leave that irritating living room of purple and white pastel curtains that let in all that obnoxious sunlight. I don’t dispute what a plus sunlight is for depression. I do however know for a fact it triggers my anxiety to the max so I am working to find a balance between adhering to the doctor’s advice to do “light therapy” for my depression, as well as my own dimly lit crypt therapy to calm my nerves and make me feel safe. For about three hours I had a respite, watched my fave shows, didn’t feel like I had a target painted on me while everyone is packing a gun.

Then came the bubble burst. R invited me to the shop for lunch. As it was taco Thursday at a local bar, I couldn’t really resist. I am not a taco fan and fuck burritos (someone puked into flatbread, woo hoo) but this place fries their own shell so it’s flaky and layered, the perfect mix of crunch and soft. I only have the taco meat and cheese, but for three bucks, you get a taco that would take about five Taco Hell cheapies to make. Yeah, I’m a cheap date, offer me a taco, I’ll brave the dish. In all fairness though…I blew him off the other day cos I was in such bad shape with my nerves, I technically owed it to him to go in and finish off a project that’s needed doing for over a year. With this mental shit, needing to do it doesn’t making it any easier, nor does wanting to do it.

No sooner than getting there and fetching lunch (bar was busy and yet I didn’t spaz cos ya know, dim lighting and all, it was calming, bright light just sets me off) and finishing the overdue shit…My sister called, finally wanting to take Orchid to the vet. So I had to come back home and pet taxi him then she came and got him, then I went back to the shop. Grr, I am sick of driving the same street everyday, it leads right from my house, to the school, to his shop. Over and over and over. To go around is extra mileage and still monotonous. On the plus time, I only had an hour before I could leave to fetch my kid.

Got her, came home, sis brought the cat back. I have to give him two doses of mega antibiotic til it’s gone. If it cures his anal leakage issue, it’s worth it. She paid, and all. As usual, told the spawn to do homework. Which she promptly began to channel satan over, because she doesn’t want to make an effort, she just wants me to give her the answers and when I don’t (this is her latest manipulation ploy) “You hate me, I know you do!” I think it’s stupid to make them spend six hours at school learning then send them home to do more homework. They’re six, for fuck’s sake. And the battle with her tantrums makes me wonder if she’s learning a thing at all or going through the motions. There are no real instructions and what they are teaching them to learn their math tables these days is far more complex than anything I’ve ever seen. Seriously, make them memorize the tables. Mine stuck like glue aside from fractions or anything related to algebra.

So yeah, she had a forty five minute fit over the homework, wouldn’t listen to a word I said to try and help, she threw her pencil and clipboard and kept screaming how I hate her…The stress does not end with the dish these days. Mid her homework, R calls to ask how to get that Fratian netbook’s external wifi to connect. (And he has a degree in repair but can’t walk through a self set up of four clicks???) I told him. He called back two minutes later and said I had to come do it, the guy was waiting. (The guy was there when I left waiting, cos his highness had me call and say shit was done when in fact, the other laptop belonging to this guy was in pieces!!!) So I had to pack the kid into the car, rush back to the shop…I had the damn thing up in ten minutes (would have been three mins but ya know, windows ass suck 8.1). Then the fratian guy wants me to change the language, the theme. He complained it didn’t look like the other computer. Well it was the browser and the netbook had only IE (puke) while he was using Chrome on the other one (also puke.) Chrome takes forfuckingever to download so I was there waiting for fuckingever…Once done with that R asked me to go fetch him a pop and smokes…Grrbbb,I didn’t think the dish torture would ever end.

We came home, finally the homework got done, we got showers to cool down, I fed her…But I couldn’t be bothered to feed myself. R had said he might stop by and my blood sugar had dipped so I was all woozy and overwhelmed, hoping he’d flake. (Yes, I bitch when he flakes, but the depression gives zero fucks.) I was just so anxiety laden I didn’t want to do a thing but vegetate in my crypt. Which of course means…he showed up.

In the end…it was worth it. He introduced me to a show called John Doe, and paid to have some Dominos parmesan bites delivered. Shallow, but I needed food and he offered so…what the hell. I survived the socialization. Barely.

Per usual I woke several times during the night. Come the three alarms to get up, my mind sees it’s still dark out and rejects the idea that this is the start of the day as opposed to the end. Demotivating giraffe time. I am supposed to be at the shop right now but Bex and I have a standing date to watch AHS Hotel together and I have to wait for her schedule to free up which means…he’s gonna have to wait. It’s ok, I am willing to extend my dish time a bit after I drop Spook at mom’s, if I HAVE to, and the cats are out of food so I do indeed HAVE to go kiss ass and earn usage of the credit card.

I got a giggle last night when I put on music, and flat out told him “You’re gonna hate it,but this is my revenge for making me listen to Toto.” I put on the Empire soundtrack. I thought he was gonna implode. “Why are you listening to this shit? You don’t even like this kind of music!” And he’s not wrong, he’s also not right. I do love my heavy metal. But my mind is open to whatever moves me and I am really into well written songs that resonate. I don’t care if it’s throat singing or banging on metal pans…If it touches me, I like it. Hell, I still listen to some Culture club songs because they were well written and oy George has a beautiful, soothing voice. (Boy knew how to rock eyeliner, too.) But yeah…Revenge for Toto.

Okay, this has been a long post and for that I suck and I truly do thank anyone who can roll with it to the end even if in increments. Probably why I am not a popular blogger, I do ramble and my content is never truly consistent. But as my first page declares…This is mental chaos. This is my mind, my life.

If reading it makes your head hurt, imagine living it.