Messed up: Mentally and emotionally unstable

This is going to be, among other things, a complaint. You might want to skip this one and come back when I'm in a better mood. You have been warned.

I took an Ativan in preparation for my kids getting home from school. I hate this. I hate that they are so hard to deal with, and I hate having to medicate myself in defense against them.

I'm confused. Messed up. Sad upon sadness. Don't know what to do, where to turn, what's next.

I'll try to write a coherent report of the weekend. It was a good weekend in many ways. We got a lot accomplished. Superman worked on preparing the garden. Did I mention we're going to try gardening this year? Diva got a lot of the public living space in the house swept and cleaned up some. She had to do that as punishment, actually, but ended up doing a pretty good job, after having done it wrong twice. Damn, everything is a huge fight with these kids. (get back on track, Java) Superman and the sons worked in the yard a lot, not just in the garden. Sproing fussed and was a pain in the ass about it almost the whole time. On Saturday I spent a long time in the kitchen. I made bread, fixed a really good dinner, helped clean things up. I was motivated. It felt good to be in there working to make things better.

For dinner Saturday I made vegetarian lasagna. I snuck so many vegetables into the sauce!! I put grated carrot and zucchini in it, and cut up mushrooms and onions very small for the sauce. The kids didn't even notice! They always complain about mushrooms in my red sauce, but this time they didn't say a thing. I layered baby spinach leaves between the cheese and noodle layers, too. The spinach was obviously there, but the kids didn't fuss about it. I guess I've done spinach lasagna enough times they're used to it. Also, cheese. Cheese covers a multitude of sins.

So all good, right? And Sunday. Continued with all the good work. I repaired holes in two of Superman's favorite jeans. He needed to work, but his only usable pair of jeans was dirty. These other two have been sitting around waiting for me. Woe is me. So he put the jeans in my lap and said "now." So I did. Funny thing, he blows out the crotch of his jeans. The left side between the bottom of the zipper and the crotch seam. It's a difficult area to patch because of curves, intersections of planes, thick seams. But I like to think he wears out jeans there because his package is so big. (giggle) And I enjoy doing things for him. I love him. I know he loves me. When I do stuff like that, I do it with love.

After I finished repairing the jeans, I moved on to Diva's dress. Background: Diva is in the JROTC program at the high school. This coming weekend is their annual Military Ball, which because of her involvement with JROTC, she is entitled to attend. Superman bought her a nice long dress a couple of weeks ago, and it needs to be altered. I got started on that yesterday afternoon. The shoulder straps need to be shortened and the gap at the front needs to be tacked. Otherwise the front will gap and show off her girl boobies. I don't know if she'd like that or not, but I don't want that to happen. So I accomplished those tasks. The dress also needs to be shortened. I started on that, but couldn't complete that task because DAMN. My children.

When I mend Superman's clothes, I do it with love and he appreciates it. Everything I sew or knit or crochet is made with love. That's what I do, who I am. However, the love gets blocked when I work on Diva's stuff. Not sure how or why, exactly. No, I do know why. You probably do to if you've read this blog for any length of time. So I start the work and my heart doesn't know how to proceed. Mixed signals, bad energy, something. When fixing the straps I did a damned good job. Looking at it you can't even tell where I made the adjustments. The thread I used matches the existing thread exactly. All my work is hand stitched, the dress was constructed with a machine, and you can't tell where my hand stitches are because they look so much like the machine stitches. It's flawless. I put a lot of effort into it, and it hurts me because I know Diva hates me. She can't appreciate what I do for her. She can't show her appreciation, and if she does, I don't believe her. Usually I enjoy doing that fine level of work, but it hurts to do it for her.

I worked while sitting at the table in the kitchen. Diva was supposed to be cleaning the living room and hallway. She was there, throwing stuff around, bumping things, being rough because she didn't want to do the work. She bitched the entire time. She made more of a mess than she cleaned up in some respects. The thing that really killed me, though, was her attitude. Her negative energy filled the house, squelching me. Sproing would come in from working outside to get a drink or a snack, and the two of them fought every time they were in the house together. Not just the same room, but the entire house. If she's in the kitchen and he's in his room at the other end of the house, they're arguing. They say the ugliest things to each other. They can't shut up. If one says something, anything to anyone, the other makes a snide or ugly comment about it. He answers for anyone whenever a question is asked. I'll as her some mundane thing, and he'll answer for her which pisses the hell out of her. Or his answer will be some obnoxious insulting response. They do that constantly. Every fucking interaction they have is filled with vile negativity. It's killing me. Killing my heart.

Yesterday I couldn't take it any longer. They drove me to tears. I was very testy and angry, angrier than the circumstances would indicate. That smacks of hormone imbalance if you ask me, and maybe that's what some of this is. However, the kids are killing me. They are breaking my spirit, breaking my heart. I am all about peace and love. They are the opposite.

I dread being with these two children. Yesterday afternoon and most of today I've been unable to function. I was supposed to take Diva to the dentist this afternoon, but I couldn't make myself go. Superman volunteered to take her instead, which was super sweet of him. He didn't have any meetings this afternoon at work, so had some flexibility to do that. It makes me feel guilty, though. One of the reasons I'm home, not working, is so I can take care of shit like that so he doesn't have to. Today I can't. Too messed up.

I'm so sorry I'm so useless. Seems I make so much work for others when I should be able to take care of shit myself. I have managed to wash our laundry today, however. Two loads put away, one load in the dryer, and the last load in the washer. I can't go out there and take care of it now because I have to stay locked in my room to avoid the teen monsters. I don't want them touching anything of mine. They have cooties. If Twitch were to bring me a basket of clean laundry I'd welcome the help and be able to fold those things. If Diva or Sproing does it, though, it would make me sick. There is something wrong with me. Well, there is something wrong with them, I'm pretty sure, but it affects me. It is breaking me.

I am, on the whole, a strong person. Today I can't seem to tap into that strength. It will probably come back, because I am fundamentally strong. Right now, though, I'm messed up. I'm depressed. Sad. Beyond sad.