Here's the thing

I dread spending time with my children. Well, with some of my children. One in particular. The young boy is being a pain in the ass, and has been all summer. Although to my surprise and delight, Diva is doing very well. Though I'm not eagerly looking for opportunities to spend time with her, when these opportunities occur they can be almost pleasant. It's a process for both of us, Diva and me, learning to get along in each other's company. Sproing, though, isn't attempting to make things better. He's just obnoxious and rude and inconsiderate, etc. School starts in 15 days. Yes, I'm counting them, the days.

Today has been difficult for me, and it's a "me" thing. I slept in, which isn't a bad thing necessarily. I got up and showered, which is good, since some days I forego the shower. (That's one of the signs that I'm depressed, the skipping of the shower. Also the sleeping in.) I spent a few moments in the same room with Sproing. That was stressful, so I left. I was finishing my morning grooming routine in the bathroom but the cat's litter box made the experience odiferously unpleasant. Well, what to do except clean it out, right? Superman usually does that job, but he's at work and I'm uncomfortable with the stench, so here I go. And make a mess of it. Dumped half the cat poop on the bathroom floor. I cleaned it up effectively. (Sometimes when I try to clean up my messes, I end up making bigger messes.) But in the process I stepped in dirty cat litter (no icky solids, but nasty nonetheless). And I'd just had a shower. So I washed my feet in the sink. One at a time; I didn't levitate over the lavatory to wash both feet simultaneously. Now, on a good day I'd have a laugh at my clumsiness and go about my business. Today is not a good day. I very nearly cried. And I've been anxious and on edge ever since. I have some pills to help that, but I'm going to try eating a healthy lunch (I had a healthy breakfast, though it was small) and see if that doesn't help soothe my nerves somewhat. I have to go through the living room where the Sproing is lying in wait to be ugly to me, and that increases my resistance to leaving the relative safety of my bedroom.

As you may have noticed, I'm not writing much here these days. Actually, I went all week last week without turning on my computer at all. I think it was yesterday, Sunday, that I finally logged on and checked my email. I deleted most of that without reading it. Just too depressed. Facebook depresses me these days, too, though I did peruse the 'book for a while yesterday. Probably won't mess with it today.

I watched the Braves win all three games against the Phillies this weekend. That was about the only "fun" thing I could do all weekend. I was strong enough one day last week to get my hair cut. That's a stressful activity for me, as I've mentioned in the past. But it was OK. And I spent the time with Twitch, too, which was pleasant. I picked him up from work (he has a small part-part-time job doing warehouse stuff at a department store), we went to the cheap haircut place and waited a long time for my haircut, then he helped me buy $300+ worth of groceries at Aldi. Aldi is the place where you bag your own groceries in your own bags/boxes. I have a few market bags and miscellaneous small containers for that sort of thing, but not for $300+ worth of groceries. I had an old medium sized dog crate rattling around in the back seat of my truck, though, and we assembled that to hold lots of groceries. Used bungee cords to secure it in the bed of the truck. Thankfully it was a rare sunny day here in the 'wood. The whole thing was kinda funny. Perhaps I should have taken a picture of it, but I didn't. Anyway, that was a busy day. Buying, bagging, transporting, unloading, and putting away that much stuff takes a long time and lots of energy. Way more energy than I have today, for sure.

These paragraphs are too long. I reread them, looking for a good place to divide them into smaller chunks, but find no good breaking point. So there you have it; long, rambling paragraphs. It's the best I can do today, and I'm OK with that.

Let's go find some healthy lunch. Maybe that will help. (It won't help the paragraphs, but will hopefully help my emotional condition.)

Meh

It's a down day. I'm tired, can't concentrate, nothing is fun. The tank is running low.

It is probably organic

Today is not going well for me. The problem is most likely organic in nature. Sure, I have a lot of stress right now, but my lack of ability to cope feels more like a chemical/hormonal imbalance than merely an emotional reaction to the stress. I feel like I am on the brink of insanity. On days like today I realize just how thin my veneer of mental health is. 

And yes, I took my medicine today and have been consistently taking my medication for a long time.  

Difficulty organizing my thoughts

Anger; inappropriately high levels of anger, especially toward the children

Inability to form complete sentences when speaking to those children

Inability to form coherent sentences at all

Hyper-critical of my own thoughts and actions

Desire to withdraw from almost all social interaction 

Desire to inflict bodily harm; self-flagellation (I'm too wimpy to actually do it, but I think it would be appropriate under the circumstances.)

Suicidal ideation*

Sometimes I wish I'd never had any children at all, ever. Even though I love my children, and don't mean to insult or in any way harm them, there are times when I think my life would have been less traumatic if I'd just left well enough alone. If I were childless, though, I'd probably have regrets. Right now I see no way to escape deep feelings of despondency, helplessness, hopelessness. regret, sadness.

I am unwell.

*No, I'm not going to kill myself. There are too many people dependent on me. Sometimes I wish I could, though.

Another one

Rough day.

Went to my aunt and uncle's church this morning. That went well. I have visited that church occasionally since I was a teen. It's a lovely place, both architecturally and spiritually. My cousins are members there, also. Today is the first time I've been to church since Lent. No, wait, I didn't go during Lent. I went during Advent. I think I went to church once in mid-January, but that's the last time. Anyway, I went today and it was lovely. I sat next to my Aunt J and she is lovely. The whole thing was just lovely.

This afternoon I took Mama over to my cousin's house. Today is the cousin's birthday and she hosted a party. I think my aunt was going to have it at their house, but Mama can't get into their house because of the steps. My cousin's house is pretty flat and easy to access.

There were all these people there. Ugh. No, it wasn't particularly crowded. There were (hang on, I'm counting)... 11 people there. Three of them I don't know very well. Whatever. Lunch was a salad buffet, with fruit and crackers and dip in addition to lettuce and a bunch of salad toppings. I got Mama settled into a recliner then got her some fruit and crackers. After everyone else got his/her plate, I had the chance to get mine. But before I could sit down to eat Mama was ready for her salad. So I got Mama's salad. It was frustrating because she was in the den, I was in the kitchen with the food, and I wasn't sure what to get her. I tried asking, but others were talking and we couldn't understand each other very well. But I fixed her food and took it to her.

I finally got to sit down. But by then I was overwhelmed. How? By what? I'm trying to figure that out. Work with me here. Some possible causes:

• Too many people
• People I don't know
• Being too much the servant, not being served
• Making a mess

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that part. I poured myself some Coke and spilled a little drop on the counter. No biggie, but I wanted to wipe it up and needed help getting something with which to do that. Cousin's husband (host) helped me with that. I thanked him very kindly, and mentioned that I tend to be messy. When I got a refill, the soda (pop?) fizzed up on me and overflowed rather dramatically. I needed more paper towels for that. Oops. When I was getting Mama's salad I kept dropping toppings. I dropped olive slices on the floor, dropped croutons on the floor... Salad ingredients seemed to leap off the plate and onto the floor. I felt like a dumb klutz. Nobody said anything about it. No one else needs to. I fill in the criticism all by myself.

So I finally had my plate and was sitting at the table. I began to cry. As Gregory says, I leaked. I wasn't sobbing or anything, but as my eyes filled up so I couldn't see my salad clearly, I got up and went to the bathroom. I sat on the edge of the tub and cried (quietly) for a while. After a bit I washed off my face (and was faceless. Boy did that look weird!) and returned to the table. I resumed my meal and pretended everything was fine. Even if anyone had noticed and asked what the problem was, what could I say? I can't put it into words myself. Very frustrating.

As I sat on the tub I asked myself why I'm upset. I felt put-upon. I felt out of place. I felt I didn't belong, except to take care of Mama. Again, no one gave any indication of that intent. I came up with it all by myself. Troublesome thing, aren't I? And I asked myself if I had any valid reason to feel that way. I never came to any conclusion about that. I did want to come right home and write about it, though. I need this. I need to write it down, talk myself through the feelings, try to figure it out here. And I really appreciate those of you who follow along this angst-strewn path with me, offering encouragement or suggestions.

When I finished my lunch and felt it socially appropriate I went into the front living room, away from everyone else. Then my Aunt J came in to sit with me. She's a sweet lady. She loves me very much, and told me so, and said she wishes I could love myself too. I admitted to her that I'm having a bad day. We chatted a while, and I made nice. I did the things I'm supposed to do. When Cousin began to open her gifts I went into the den and sat beside Mama.

Cousin really liked the cards I picked out. (Got 2 from the store last night, one from me, one from Mama) They were both funny and appropriate. I'm glad she liked them. Anyway, I stayed with the group and pretended to be OK. I tried to join the conversation here and there, but everything I said seemed to be out of place. Not inappropriate or anything, but when adding my perspective to topics of conversation, suddenly the flow of conversation stopped. I guess I'm too unique to play that crowd.

As I cried to myself in the bathroom I had a strong desire to go away. To come back to Mama's and be alone, and to write this post. I wondered how Mama would get home. I could have asked my aunt and uncle to bring her, but I hate asking my uncle for anything. He's a pain in the ass. I also didn't want to call attention to myself. Had I left that would have made a big stir. I really didn't want that drama. I could also have gone outside to sit by myself. But it is hot here. And that, too would have been more drama than I wanted.

Did I do the right thing? When I was having so much trouble at the book club meeting Thursday, I left. I stayed around to "do" for Mama, but I left the meeting. (I blogged about that, didn't I?)(Yup) Should I have left, or was it right to pretend, to fake it, and stay?

I need someone to take care of me. This is one source of these problems. Superman takes really good care of me. Really really good. He knows my weaknesses, understands when I show the painful face. He takes over for me and tells me it'll be alright when I start to make a mess. He gets the jokes, perspectives, opinions I spew forth. I don't feel so alone when he is around. He defends and protects me, runs interference when I need my space.

I posses a lot of strength, this I know. But there is a lot of weakness, too. I'm not sure how that works, and I don't want to think about it right now. I'm good at taking care of others to some extent, and I get a lot of satisfaction from doing so. However, (and this is a big "however") it takes a lot out of me. I'm not sure how this works, either, and I'm confusing myself right now. For the past two weeks I've been doing a LOT of giving, not receiving much. I'm worn out.

I leave here tomorrow. Mama has a doctor's appointment in the morning, and I will take her there. We'll come back here and have some lunch, then I'm going to my Dad's house in Gainesville. I'll spend the night in Gainesville, and hopefully get up fairly early Tuesday and head back to South Carolina. I am looking forward to the drive home. I am looking forward to possibly meeting another blog buddy in Charleston on the way. (Yipee!)

However (another big "however") I am not really looking forward to getting home. Not totally. There are many things about going home that are really good. But home is so much work! Everyone there is so needy! Especially since I've been gone for 2 weeks everyone at home wants a chunk of me. This has not been a vacation for me. With the exception of Superman, I think everyone at home considers me to have been on vacation. I'm not on vacation. I've worked very hard. The physical work hasn't been bad at all. Not like digging ditches for 2 weeks. But the emotional drain has been great. They are going to suck me dry when I get home. So no, I'm not looking forward to going home.

I'm gonna go now. I need another good cry. I'm going to iterate laundry and cry into the dry clothes.

barely repressed rage

I sit in my nest virtually visiting interesting virtual spaces.
I assume my brain is fine.
Once out of the virtual and into the actual
Oh-oh
My brain is not fine.

Rage
Where I cannot point and click
Type and enter
Say something pithy
Click away

Where children whine
Irresponsible
Uncontrollable
With no gratitude, no appreciation, no patience
No way to click away.

There
Charged with mundane responsibility
Where charm doesn't work
What tool to use?
Only rage. Only rage in the toolbox today.
Rage is effective but for the wrong reasons in the wrong way.
A sledgehammer on a delicate mechanism.
Rage distroys both sides; the giver and the receiver.

Hide. Go away. Let it go.
This doesn't fix it,
But it doesn't destroy it either.
Hide. A good response? No. But better than the
distructive
alternative.

Barely keeping it together

3:00 Wednesday afternoon

Bad day. Don't know why. Lots of cleaning going on in the rest of the house. Should be a good thing. And really, it is. But for some reason I'm not handling it well. The other members of the household seem to be adjusting very well. I think everyone else feels more comfortable with less chaos. I really like that my kitchen is clean. But I am so incredibly uneasy about something.

I tried to put a load of laundry in the washer. It's a mess in there, and I put a little bit of order to it Sunday, but the good that I did was undone. The hamper I filled with a load of darks was knocked over, the clothes falling out of it. I also put together a hamper of towels to bleach. It had un-bleachable things stuffed in it. The level of dirty clothes on the floor is up to mid calf again. I had it down to ankle deep, with spots of floor showing in one or two places. I completely freaked out about 3 minutes after going in there this afternoon. I started screaming at everyone.

I bought myself some milk yesterday. A small quart jug of skim milk. No one else in the house likes skim, and we never have anything as small as a quart in the fridge. I was able to have a bowl of cereal this morning. But when I came in from my therapy appointment an hour ago my little quart jug was sitting empty on the table. It is incredible how upset that makes me.

What in the hell is wrong with me???? Little shit like this, stuff that is, yes, annoying, is sending me over the brink. This stuff is annoying, but not that tragic. I ran into my bedroom, locked the door, and cried for 15 minutes.

Yes, I had therapy today. All went well. But I come home and go to pieces. I'm not handling things well.

And I'm very dizzy again. I have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow afternoon. When I'm so dizzy it is hard to concentrate on anything.

10:00 Wednesday evening

Am I doing any better? I don't know. I'm not freaking out quite as actively as before, but I've been hiding in my room most of the day since I wrote the earlier bit. I went to the kitchen to have dinner with the family. I stayed long enough to eat, but came back to my hiding place as soon as I could.

Superman bought me another small jug of milk. I think this time everyone knows it is MOMMY'S milk, leave it the hell alone. He also bought a big jug for everyone else. I have high hopes.

Why do these little things bother me so much?

I don't even want to think about it anymore. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed. I am going to survive this day. Look, it is almost over anyway. Tomorrow I will tackle a new day. Maybe I will be stronger.

Living in the maelstrom

Not doing well today. I think I'm feeling better then WHAM out of nowhere I'm not able to speak clearly, my hands are twitching, I feel the need to bang on something. (repetitive light pounding on some surface, or clapping my hands, or beating my head. Not to hurt, but to ... I don't even know. Maybe this is what Twitch feels like all the time. Poor guy!)

I'm getting teary for no apparent reason. Reading the words of encouragement in the comments on the previous blog ... gives me warm fuzzy feelings and makes me cry, but not really a good kind of cry. My sick "other brain" is giving me those "You are unworthy" messages agian. I recognize them for what they are. It's the illness talking. I'm not supposed to listen.

Let's try this: I know I am a worthy person. (But I don't know why, and truly, I don't believe that.) I have many fine qualities. (But I suck at so many things.) I can be very helpful and encouraging to other people. (I can't accept it for myself.) (No, overall I'm a failure. As C is trying to get me to say, I am "ineffective." That's the word I'm supposed to use instead of "failure.") (My life, it seems to be about 80% ineffective.)

I am sad. OK, more than sad. But for those of you who wonder about these things, No, I am not making plans. I'm not "there" right now at all. Don't worry about that. Yet. I'll mention it to someone if I start to go there. I know better.

Sorry to dump like this. Part of the reason this blog exists is to be honest and open about these feelings. As I try to heal. It might help. It doesn't feel very helpful right now. Having a bad day, nothing feels particularly helpful.

Superman and I are going out for a little walk. We're going to Lowes to look at bathroom sinks and tile. Our bathroom sink/faucet/pipes has/have sprung a leak somewhere. The whole assembly is old and nasty, so we're (he's) going to re-do it. I want this to happen. But today I don't know if I can make ANY decisions. I'm afraid the store might overwhelm me. Hell, sitting here on the bed still in my pj's is slightly overwhelming.

But I think I need to get out, to get dressed and move around a bit. We're going to try that. We are also going to try to drink some more water and eat a peanut butter sandwich. Maybe that will give the ol' body and brain a boost in blood sugar. I did have a good breakfast, good for me and especially good for Superman for fixing me eggs and bacon and toast. He's a super man. And he loves me all the time in spite of how I feel. I might be dead if not for him.

OK, here we go, on with the plan. I'll try to check in later. I'll also try to finish book six. It has been hanging over my head all week, and I REALLY want to get it posted!!! I just haven't had the time and/or energy to work on it. Very frustrating, I promise.

Late afternoon update:
Feeling a bit better now. I went all by myself to Wal-Mart. Had my MP3 stuck in my ears with Mountain Dulcimer music playing. That's how I was able to survive. Kept my blinders on, sort of. Got what I needed, except my prescription. Line was too long, couldn't do it.

Then I went to the fabric store to get a canvas bag. One of my students is celebrating her 18th birthday today, and I'm going to draw some little red ants on the bag and give that to her. She is silly, and often teases me with incorrect information. I tell her she is full of little red ants. So I'm giving her a canvas tote with little red ants on it. I need to draw the ants, because we leave for her party in about an hour.

Bad weather here today. I can hear the tornado warning siren wailing now. Overcast but still and dry just now, but an hour ago we had dark dark dark clouds, hail, strong wind, heavy rain. No swirly cloud, though, that we could see. I can hear thunder now.

I'm off to draw little red ants. Might update later, after the birthday party. I might even take pictures!

Late evening update:
I managed to survive the day. Superman and I went to the birthday party. It was loud, warm, crowded with people I mostly didn't know. I got a few pictures, though. I'll post them in a separate entry. We didn't stay at the party very long.

When we left the party Superman suggested going out someplace for desert and coffee, because neither of us wanted to go home. We got a few phone calls from the kids at home and ended up having to stop by the house to take care of some of that mess. It was a nasty bit of sibling rivalry, all of them being very ugly to each other, and it makes me sad to think about it so I'm not going to say anything more. Much, anyway.

Twitch is 17, Diva and Sproing are both 10. It seems to me, maybe I'm just naive, that the three of them could manage themselves without major trauma for 2 or 3 hours. Not today, anyway. It is such a drain on my personal emotional resources, this fighting, that it isn't worth the grief to go out for an evening alone with my husband. I don't need this crap.

Superman and I left home again after the kids were in bed, went to a local restaurant for dessert. It was nice enough. I was still disgusted about the kids. The dessert he ordered, a hot peach cobbler thing, was still frozen in the middle and was therefore kinda nasty. I had a good piece of cheesecake. We talked to the manager about the frozen hot cobbler, and ended up getting the whole tab erased. We tipped the waitress, 'cause she was a sweetheart, but aside from the tip, we had our dessert and coffee for no munny. The company was nice. He and I worked on a design I have in mind to make a tent in the back of the pick-up. That was the most fun part of the evening.

I'm home now, have had a shower and shampoo. (I bought some new shampoo today. It smells like tangerine. Why? I don't know. Do I like my hair to smell like tangerine? Well, that's a better smell than others I can contemplate.) I'm on the blogs, which is one of my happy places. So the evening is settling in nicely. I'm breathing, thinking sort of clearly, and not crying. Not a bad ending for a bad day. :-)

Monday update after a bad Sunday

I was at least able to function at work today.
But I still feel like an old piece of tissue paper left out in the rain, colors running into the cracks in the sidewalk, what little structure I have turning to mush.

I had an extremely busy day at work. One of the other special needs drivers was out today and I took half of her route this afternoon. This morning I had some paper work to do, some loose ends to tie up (no, not you this time Patrick), some situations to double check. Then I had my mid-day route. It's a short one, but interupts the flow of the day.

And I had an appointment with my therapist. I broke down all over again. This is the first time she's seen me anything but chipper. I could barely form coherent thoughts. It got me all wobbly again, and I had to rush back to work when I left her office.

Notice I said nothing about food? I didn't have a chance to eat much today. I grabbed a milkshake on my way back from the bank. (Oh, yeah, I forgot that one. My account fell down thanks to a late-coming charge from my trip last month. I had to go pick it back up again. Thankfully today is payday, so I had a little bit of money with which to fix it.) I had some ice water and 4 granola bars. That, plus a little carton of yogurt I had at 5 this morning, is all I've had. I know I need fuel to function, I just didn't have a chance to do much about it until now. And now I'm not doing anything about it. I don't want to. I'm angry, or sad, I dunno. I can't bear the thought of going into the kitchen. Maybe I'll go get an apple. I know we have some on the counter in there, and I can bring it back to the bedroom to eat it.

Being busy at work helped get me through the day. Except it was stressful and exhausting, leaving nothing to work with now. The therapist had some ideas about rallying the troups for the cleaning expedition. She also said we'd do it when I feel stronger. I have nothing right now. No umph, no encouragement, no way for me to support my directives. So I'll think about it "tomorrow." (not necessarily Tuesday. You know, a vague concept called tomorrow)

I'm rambling again. I'm going to get that apple, maybe a bit of peanut butter and a handful of raisins, come back and check a few blogs. Then I'm going to bed. My bedtime goal for tonight is 8:00. I'm already showered and dressed for bed. And the most wonderful husband in the entire world has taken the kids to their soccer game and will do what else needs to be done, then tuck them into bed. Isn't he super?

And thanks all of you for your encouragement and support. I'll appreciate it more when I feel better.

Not a good Sunday

Real quick now, because it is very late. I've been asleep, but indigestion woke me up and I need to sit up straight for a bit before I lie back down to sleep.

I had a bad day today. I was feeling kind of stressed in the morning, a bit unsteady but not too bad. I've been taking a look around me at all the crap that I need to do, the cleaning, organizing, sorting. The house is a horrid mess. We have too much stuff and too little space. It's a 1600 square foot house with 8 people living here. And I'm a pack rat and a mess. When I see such a big mess I get overwhelmed and do other stuff to avoid it, which of course makes it all worse.

Neither Superman nor I are good at delegating the work. We have 5 kids in the house now who are able to wash dishes, fold clothes, sweep floors, etc. But we have no kind of system in place to assign those responsibilities and of course none of them volunteer to do any of this work. The dishes pile up until no one can work in the kitchen, the kids can't find clean clothes, and chaos reigns. I blame myself. Of course I should make charts, assign chores, do more to increase the general organization in the household and make it easier for everyone to contribute to the good of the cause. But I don't. I haven't. I'm not sure how to, but I haven't really tried. When I do make attempts in that direction I never follow through, so we might have a plan in place for a week or so, then it goes pfift because I don't keep up with it.

So about 3:00 this afternoon Sproing asked me to make popcorn for him. He had a friend spend the night last night, while Diva spent the night with this boy's sister at their house. The boys played well today and had a pretty good time. They went out to play after lunch and picked up a couple of other boys from the neighborhood. There were 4 or 5 boys in the living room watching a movie, and Sproing asked me to make them some popcorn. Fine. I went into the kitchen, which was a mess. I had to clean off the stove, find the pot I use to make popcorn, excavate it from the bottom of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, wash it, dry it, yada yada yada. It took me almost half an hour just to start cooking. I couldn't find the lid to the pot, so I used a larger lid. I made more of a mess with what was already on the stovetop because I'm clumsy. Anyway, by the time the popcorn was popping I had just about lost all semblance of cool I had. I was burning my hands trying to hold this lid on the pot, and I could smell the popcorn beginning to burn. I knocked some other stuff over on the stove, onto the hot eye, ... shit, it was a mess. Probably would have been funny to watch it on a sit-com. I was far far far away from amused.

I blew my stack. Screamed, yelled, cried. Superman had gone to take Light back to school and had been gone for about 3 hours. He walked in the kitchen door, right behind where I was having a melt-down at and on the stove, right into my screaming tirade. At some point, as usual when I lose it, I lost my ability to form words. I was standing there in the kitchen making screaming and moaning noises, (not in a good way, believe me!) pointing at the mess, tears streaming down my face. It wasn’t pretty. Superman took the pot out of my hands and sent me to the bedroom. All I could do was mumble at a screaming volume. I got on the bed and just cried for a long time. It was a hard cry, but not even a good cry.

I finally got the tears and screams under control enough, then I started cleaning. It’s what I have needed to do, what I’ve been avoiding for days (longer, really, if I’m honest about it. I don’t want to be honest about it right now, thankyouverymuch). I worked on the pile of junk beside my bed and made fair progress. I feel like it isn’t enough.

I feel like a failure. Again. My head is telling me bad things about myself. I’m not supposed to listen, or believe it, but it’s the truth. Yes, I have many fine qualities. There are many things I like about myself. But I also have a lot of bad qualities. Some days they don’t balance out. In the larger view, the big picture, I’m OK. In the small details of life, the foundations of things, where the rubber meets the road, I’m just a mess. How the hell can I accomplish the big things if I can’t even keep my room clean? Why do I feel it so demeaning to do general cleaning? I feel horrible about myself when I push a vacuum or wield a mop, but I feel even worse when I don’t and it looks like a pig sty in here. There is something seriously wrong with me. I need a keeper. But I don’t deserve a keeper because that indicates I’m a failure at the things I’m supposed to be able to do.

We are getting nowhere.

Maybe it is all hormones, and I’ll be functional in a few days. Maybe I’ll be functional, but my house will still be a pig sty. Maybe “functional” means I semi-successfully ignore the chaos, but what kind of functionality is that?

I’m not sure I want to post this. But in the interest of honesty, in the interest of informing you just how fucked up I really am under all the good intentions, I think I will. I’m mad enough at myself to spread my shit on the internet.

Gawd, I need to shut up and go to sleep. I’m supposed to be functional by 5:50. That’s like four hours from now. Shit. And this tirade is giving me a headache.

Shit

A tale of woe, Part 1

The day started pretty well. I had high hopes. But alas, my hopes were dashed.

Today is the last day of the semester in this school district. Therefore today was a half day. I picked up all my students before 11:45 this afternoon, and was completely finished an hour later. Cool, huh?

Twitch is going on a ski trip this weekend with his scout troop. He needed some ski pants for the excursion. We don't get snow, and we have no significant sloping areas. After work he and I went looking for ski pants at area sporting goods establishments. We found exactly what he needed at the second store. The stock was almost depleted but there was a pair in his size. They were marked down 20%, too, so it only cost $81.32. OUCH! I knew they'd be pricey. With me going out of town next week, my truck in the shop, and a few other unexpected expenses this month I really didn't want to spend $81.32 on a pair of ski pants for the boy that he'll probably never wear again after this weekend. He needs to get a job so he can pay for this kind of thing himself. The trip cost $110, plus $20 for meals on the road to and from the mountain. He needs to make his own money for stuff like this. He'll be 17 next month. It is time.

But that, while unpleasant, isn't what shot my afternoon to hell. No, it was the other son,
Sproing. I am feeling very uncharitable toward that imp today. Allow me to elaborate.

Sproing has been having some trouble at the after school day care. He refuses to cooperate, won't do the simple things he is asked to do, makes a big mess or a big fuss or both and refuses to clean up after himself. He's belligerent and defiant. That's bad enough, but these gals can handle that pretty well. No, it gets worse.

Of late he's also been screaming insults, including profanities, at the ladies who work with him. There is one young lady in the after school classroom and another woman who is the center director, both of whom have been working with him on his behavior. They tell me he has broken two chairs in the lunch room area, throws his book bag around the room if he's mad. He has been lying to the director about his homework, saying he doesn't have any when in fact he does. They have a homework time at the center. All the kids have at least a little bit of homework Monday through Thursday. I think it's school policy, maybe even district wide. I dunno, but he always has at least a little bit of homework. He refuses to do it and lies about it.

As if that weren't enough, he has begun to get physical with these gals. He has hit and kicked the classroom worker, and has scratched the director. The guy who is the director's boss called me yesterday to come get him because he was being so dangerous and disruptive. Yesterday he ran out of the building toward the parking lot, trying to, I don't know, escape. The director told him he couldn't do that, no sir! So he did it again. Today he threw a pair of scissors at the classroom lady, and punched the director in the stomach. Twice. Yesterday he spilled a glass of milk on the table at snack time. On purpose, of course. When told to clean it up, he took the paper towels and threw them on the floor. The lady persisted with her instruction and direction, and he finally got it cleaned up, but it took him half an hour.

There are a few other kids at the center. There are probably 6-8 other children in the after school group. When the workers are having to put so much energy into Sproing they of course aren't able to focus on anyone else. When the little brat acts like this he ruins the time for all the other kids. And of course he frustrates the workers out of their minds.

Superman and I had a firm talk with the boy last night, and then he got a spanking. Talking doesn't work, though. And the spanking didn't seem to do much, either. Although today when I brought him home I gave him another good spanking. This one relayed a stronger impression, I think, than the one he got yesterday. I had to stop before I got too rough.

I can't even talk to him. I talked yesterday, we went over it all. I asked him questions, he talked to me. He said he'd do better, but he didn't. I wonder if he is able to. The time for talk is over. Done. Dead. Gone. He knows better than this. He is actually a very intelligent little boy. He's almost 10; his birthday is next Thursday, two days after mine. He's intelligent, but belligerent. I don't know what his angle is, but he's got to cut this crap out. The center is about one straw away from throwing him out completely. The way he's behaving, I don't blame them.

Today is Wednesday. The kids are out of school tomorrow and Friday. I've already paid for Sproing and Diva to attend the day care those two days. But I'm not taking the demon child back this week. I have plans, I was counting on them being in the day care so I could accomplish some things. But no, not Sproing. He's got to make a huge fuss and get kicked out.

I wonder if that is his plan. He has told me he doesn't want to go there because they are mean. When asked to elaborate he says they make him pick up his book bag off the floor and hang it up with the other ones. Of course we've talked to him about that. That sort of thing is expected wherever you go. Pretty much everything he has issue with (at least that he's told us) is normal expected accepted standards of behavior.

A couple of years ago he was diagnosed with ADHD and ODD. ODD is Oppositional Defiant Disorder. Years ago when I first heard of ODD I thought "A disorder?? No, that's just a lack of discipline. That indicates bad parenting." Note to the wise: don't ever say anything like that. It'll come back to bite you in the butt. Hard. And NOT in a good way. Well, now Sproing is taking medication for the ADHD, and recently started on Remeron (or however it's spelled) which treats depression and helps him relax to go to sleep. He's always had trouble sleeping. Right now I doubt the effectiveness of both medications.

I have more to say about how I'm handling this, but I'll put that in a separate post.

Please do not give me any advice. I can't handle advice right now. There is a chance that maybe you've been in a situation like this. But I doubt it. Unless you are a recognized expert who has difficult children that you are parenting or have parented on a full time basis, I really don't want your advice right now. However, I will accept all the sympathy I can get!

humor-less

Every day I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive days I've stayed alive.

My darling Mama sent me one of those funny emails everyone gets occasionally. It was a list of humorous and pithy sayings, many of which I'd seen before. You probably have too. But this was a new one on me. I read it to Superman and he got a good little chuckle.

But to me it wasn't funny. It stood out from the other two dozen quotes because it smacks me in the head in a very personal way. Superman didn't see it that way because his brain doesn't go down the morbid paths mine follows.

To me, this quote is a rallying cry for life. It is a handle to grasp on bad days. It has everything to do with resisting suicidal thoughts. Those thoughts that creep unbidden into my head way too often. My desire to die is an almost constant companion. On good days it goes like this: "I think maybe I'll live today. I'm not ready to die today." On bad days I try to remember that if I do myself in it'll fuck up the people I love for the rest of their lives. I don't stay alive for me. I stay alive for the people who depend on me.

I think this is not healthy.

But here's a good saying to help me hang onto life at those times when I'd rather drop it:

Every day I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive days I've
stayed alive.