Spring Break!

See that exclamation mark in the title? I don't really mean it.

I have the depression monster sitting on my head today. Eh, whatever. I'm used to it. I don't even want to be not depressed, necessarily. I know how to do this depression thing. It's comfortable. Sort of. And everything around me (except Superman) triggers my depression. So I might as well embrace it.

So, Spring Break. Easter, as you probably know, was this past Sunday. We didn't do a thing toward celebrating it. Why bother? I don't believe in so much of what the Christian churches teach, so whatever. I did, however, buy myself a small chocolate bunny on clearance at the grocery store on Monday. So yay, happy Easter.

Being Easter and all, the schools are out. No school last Friday, and no school all this week. You know what that means. Kids here all day. Or in and out all day, with me concerned about what kind of trouble they're getting into if they aren't here. Sort of. Mostly, I'm trying not to care what they do. The depression is helping with the Not Caring thing. Spring Break also signals the impending school summer break, which lasts a painfully long time. Only about five weeks now until school's out for almost three months. Plus, it's hot here. Or it will be then. Actually right now the temps are not too bad. Warm, but not terrible.

The pollen is pretty bad, but if I stay inside I'm OK. I don't want to get out of the house anyway. Unfortunately there are things I must do. My allergies are better than they were a couple of weeks ago, so that's good. And we've had a fair amount of rain which helps wash the pollen out of the air.

A couple of things about Diva:
First the good news. Yes! There is good news! Last week was the 31st anniversary of our wedding. Superman and I eloped in March of '83 a month before the planned wedding. Then we did the public wedding thing to make our parents happy in April. We usually celebrate the March date, but Diva got wind of the April anniversary and made dinner for us. It was really sweet. She made a small cake with fruit compote topping, broiled some whitefish and dished up some carrots and applesauce for us. It was quite nice of her and I thanked her and hugged her and everything. Also, she makes really good cakes. I suspect her daddy helped with the fish. It was cooked just right. All in all a good evening. So score 1 for Diva.

Yesterday she had her intake interview with Department of Juvenile Justice (DJJ). That fight she had at school in January resulted in a criminal charge of public disturbance or something. I can't remember exactly what the charge is. So DJJ needs demographic information and assorted other crap for their files. So we did that. She was surly. I survived.

In the process of the interview she mentioned that she was still upset about an incident of molestation she experienced last year. I may have mentioned it then. It happened March a year ago. Superman and I were of course concerned about the molestation and have done what we can to help her. She's been to the local sexual abuse counseling place for some services (forensic interview, physical exam, STD testing) but refused any counseling at the time and when offered since then. Until yesterday. She told the DJJ agent when he asked that yes, she does need to talk to someone about the trauma. OK, backing up a week or two, she came to me all in a dither one Saturday recently. She'd been in serious trouble for some now-forgotten offense and was undoubtedly grounded. She started out crying about some other wrong that had been done unto her, then segued into this lament about how traumatized she is by the molestation incident.

I do not mean to minimize the impact of her being molested. It was an invasion of her very being. She was spending the night with a friend, and the ex-boyfriend of the girl's mother came into the room where they were sleeping and fondled her. She told the friend's mother the next morning, mother called the police, Diva was taken to the hospital for whatever it is they do in those cases. We followed up with the police detective who was on the case, with the sexual trauma center, and everything else we were supposed to do. We were sympathetic and concerned about her, as much as I can be sympathetic to her in light of all the abuse she has heaped on me. I really do care.

Anyway, that recent Saturday she complained bitterly that I hadn't done anything, or didn't care, or something about how upset she still is because of the sexual abuse. Just a few days prior to this someone from the sexual trauma center called to check up on Diva, see how she was doing. I was sitting with Diva at the time, and asked her, told her who was on the phone, etc. She said she was fine. So here it is Saturday and she tells me she has flashbacks, can't sleep at night, is afraid this guy is peeking in her window every night. This is all news to me. She hasn't said one word about it for months and months. I asked if she'd like to talk to someone to help her deal with her feelings and she said yes. So the following Monday I called the sexual trauma center to set up an appointment for her. The woman I needed to talk to was at lunch, I left a message, she never got back to me. I didn't follow through. Then this week Diva tells the DJJ agent that she needs to talk to someone about the abuse. I told him what I'd done and that I hadn't followed up, he told me to follow up. Yes sir, I certainly will.

I think it's impossible for me to be brief in telling a story. Sorry about that, y'all.

After we left the DJJ office in the courthouse downtown I drove directly (through the pollen) to the sexual trauma center, a mile or so south of downtown. I figured that showing up at this place, since I was already out anyway, was easier than me remembering to call back. Well, now Diva refuses to get out of the truck to come in and talk to someone. I went in, explained the situation, and after a few minutes a very nice young woman came out, willing to talk to Diva. Also, see, Diva is in regular counseling with a therapist at the local Dept. of Mental Health office. Has been for years. I mentioned this to the nice young woman who said it would be best for Diva to discuss these things with the therapist with whom she already has a good working relationship. I said "Makes sense to me. Don't know why she hasn't." But Nice Young Woman was willing to talk to Diva if she'd come in. So I went back out to the truck and Diva still refused to budge. So I went back in, thanked the Nice Young Woman, and took Diva home. Because shit. You know?

And I strongly suspect Diva is just jerking my chain. She's being manipulative. Perhaps she is traumatized by the molestation, I don't know, but I really think she throws it in my face to distract me from her other misdeeds. I have done what I can for her. I'm willing to get her the help she needs to the best of  my knowledge and ability. She, in typical Diva style, refuses to cooperate with me.

When I got home I called her therapist at the dept. of mental health, told her about the events of the day. I asked if she and Diva had worked through any of this sexual abuse trauma Diva claims to suffer. Therapist didn't remember Diva having been abused. I thought we'd told her, was sure we had, and she said, "Yes, I vaguely remember now." Therapist said she worked for four years at the sexual trauma center before taking the position she has now with Mental Health. I laughed. Because, of course. Nice Young Woman told me that Therapist was trained in exactly the same kind of therapy they use at the trauma center, and would do exactly the same thing they'd do there.

Diva has an appointment to see her Mental Health therapist next Tuesday. We shall see what we shall see.

Oh, back to the whole Spring Break and everyone's home thing. Diva Darling posted a threatening video on Facebork attacking the same girl she fought with last January. (This is related, trust me.) The police are involved with that, too. I got a call, again, from the assistant principal. We've come to know each other well this year. Gosh, that happened over a week ago I think. It took a while for consequences to hit because the Individual Education Plan (IEP) team had to meet to determine if Diva's behavior in this case is due to her clinical diagnoses before the assistant principal could hand down the punishment. We, the IEP team, decided that, no, Diva's threatening video was not related to her clinical diagnoses. Therefore Diva gets suspended for four days. Remember I said the kids were out on Friday? We had this IEP meeting last Wednesday, so Thursday was Diva's first day of suspension. The following three days of suspension occur Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday of next week when school in once again in session. Fuck My Life. She gets an extra long Spring Break. She did the same thing before Christmas, got I can't remember how many days suspension just before the Christmas break to make it an extra long vacation for her. I feel so fucked over. To add insult to injury (if that's what this is) Sproing got suspended for three days the week before last, and he was at home last Monday and Tuesday, back in school Wednesday and Thursday, then off again now. At least he goes back to school next Monday.

And this is a preview of our summer break. Kids home and arguing with me and each other 'round the clock. I feel stressed.

In other news, Sproing took an all-day driving class two weekends ago, and has the practical driving part of the class this week, this afternoon and tomorrow afternoon. He has already scheduled a time with the DMV to take his driving test for his license. The boy wants to DRIVE! Sounds like more opportunity to get in trouble to me, but whatever. He is a good driver. He's young and stupid, though (age 16) and I fear he will wreck the car. Superman needs to up the insurance coverage before the kid does any driving. I need to ask him about that.

All of the kids (Twitch included) need to find jobs. The kidlets for the summer and Twitch for permanent. Mostly he mopes around the house. He'll go out looking for work a couple of days a week maybe, but he spends a lot of time at home moping. Talk about depressing. He says he wants to get a job so he can move out of this house, away from his siblings. Well, then, Twitch, get off your lazy ass, get out there and WORK, dammit!!

I have no energy to confront any of them about any of this. I hide in my room reading (mostly) gay romances all day. It's light reading, doesn't require much brain work. No, this isn't healthy. Right now I don't much care. In related news, I see my therapist on Thursday. We will discuss my coping strategies and probably come to no conclusion.

Superman got himself a new computer and a new tablet recently. They're cool. I've used the tablet a few times. It's good for cruising the 'net, I suppose, but I much prefer a keyboard to write anything. His computer works so well! Turn it on and -ta da!- it's on. Mine takes about half an hour to boot up completely so I can surf the web without it freezing up on me. Most of the time. My computer is six, maybe seven years old now. Vista was the great new thing when I got it. I upgraded to Windows 7 and got myself a few more Gigs of RAM (or something) when Windows 7 came out. Now that Superman has a new computer, though, mine looks less and less appealing.

That's all I have today. Sorry most of it is so morose. And long-winded.

Yeah, whatever

I'm back. Did you miss me? That was a rhetorical question to which I don't really want an answer.

I haven't turned on my computer in almost two weeks. I've done a little bit of Facebork browsing on my smart (sic) phone. My phone is old and stupid (for a smart phone) and won't give me much. I can "like" a post, comment on posts sometimes, but not much else. Aside from that, I haven't been online.

I have, however, been thinking about lots of my online friends. Hi guys! Not doing much about it, but thinking of you fondly.

Depressed. Oh, and pollen. I didn't even stand near the opened door for five days last week, the pollen was so bad. It's still pretty heavy, but not as bad as it was even earlier this week. I was out yesterday, took Diva to her therapist, and had to shower when I got home to get rid of the pollen. I was out earlier this morning, going to the high school, and haven't even had to washed my face and I'm OK.

I was called to the principal's office. Diva again. Remember the fight she got into a few weeks (months?) ago? She's still fighting with the girl, but not with fists. She posted a vulgar tirade online attacking the other girl, and I was called in today to a conference with the school resource officer and the principal and Diva about it. Posting vulgar tirades against someone is technically illegal. Not sure I knew that, but whatever. The other girl's mother doesn't want to press charges now as long as this shit ends. Diva sat through the meeting with a scowl on her face. If Diva does this shit again the charge will be harsher, something about a pattern of behavior and harassment. I wish the other mother would press charges. Maybe I can talk to the resource officer (he's a sergeant with the Sheriff's dept.) to encourage the other mom to press charges. But if she is charged, the offense will be added to her list of charges and we'll wait for-fucking-ever to go to court and my life with suck until then. And probably after, because shit.

I'm so fucking depressed. I hate my home life. I hate my house. I resent our pets. I am pissed as hell that I feel like I have to hide in my room to avoid the hellishness of my children.

Nothing works. No amount of talking to the kids, punishing them, encouraging them, doing things for them, ignoring them,  not anything works. She has charges pending against her and jack shit is happening about that. Oh, we do have an "intake interview" for her in two weeks at Department of Juvenile Justice (DJJ). We've done this before. It's filling out forms, answering the same questions over and over because these forms don't coordinate with each other to share information. Name, age, birth date, address, social security number, etc. over and over again. Probably some other questions, too, but I can't now remember. Maybe I'll post about it after the meeting, but probably not. Back to the point: DJJ will gather all this redundant information and sit on it for months. In the meantime, she'll be a pain in my ass. My therapist says this is "learned helplessness," this sense that there's no point in doing anything because nothing will change.

She ran away last month, for a weekend. She says it wasn't running away, she just left without telling us she was leaving or where she was going. Et cetera. The point: the police officer told us that when she's 17 they can't make her come home. She'll be 17 on the 4th of December. It can't come soon enough for any of us, parents and child(ren) included.

Chocolate and sex are the only things that give me pleasure these days.

Did I tell you the doctor has increased my antidepressant meds? I may have said that already in a previous post. Don't know if it helps. What will really help is changing things in my life that depress and stress me. Nothing we've done has helped. I feel like my life is in a sick holding pattern for now until the children move out. Or at least that particular girl child. The old boy needs to go, too. He's home, pretending to look for a job but mostly sitting on his lazy ass. I nag, but nagging makes me sick. I'm too depressed to fight.

And I feel like this is the only thing I ever write about here on this blog anymore. I'm bored of it all.

"All the pretty girls get cut in half while the sad clowns make us laugh."


OK, a couple of positives: I have been cleaning and decluttering a little bit. Not a bunch, but a little bit. And that's good. I got myself a new CD of The Plain White T's, the above song is on the album. The whole album has catchy songs on it. Do I like it? Dunno, but they're catchy tunes.

And baseball season started! Go Braves! It's not much, but it helps.

And I got my hair cut. Really short. Half inch all over. It looks ridiculous. Kinda reminds me of the crew cuts my Daddy used to give my brothers when they were 2-6 years old. And I don't give a flying fuck, except when I do.