Prelude to a (likely) bumpy ride

Survived the home visit. Seems like Spook is getting a very nice teacher for pre-k. In an ode to my own paranoia and vast experience in not meeting the expectations of others…I videotaped the entire place prior to the visit to show it was tidy. This may seem asinine and neurotic, but a former landlord made me get an independent living adviser to make sure I kept up on housework in spite of my illness…And the adviser came in, inspected, said it was fine, and next I know…I am being evicted for violating health codes and not cleaning properly. I wish I were joking. That man never liked me even though I was there six years and paid rent like clockwork. I admit to being paranoid but sometimes if you don’t meet the expectations of others, it can hurt you.

As far as I am concerned, real moms have dustbunnies. Some people (my former mother in law) have houses so immaculate that they look like furniture showroom pieces. I like the lived in look, where I can flop on a couch and not have a conniption because Legos have exploded on my floor. A neat freak, especially ocd ones, would of course consider this living in a pig sty. Having the neuroses of others placed on you is very stressful when you’re a mom and people have the power to take your kid away. By the time it’s all investigated, the damage is done. R went through it with his kids, even though it was all a lie perpetuated by their mother to deny him access.

There is a reason for my paranoia that has nothing to do with mental illness and everything to do with firsthand experience.

Now..I can breathe and stop ranting.

Popped by the shop so he could go to the dentist, then left. Hit one yard sale on the way home. Now my kid is playing with her new used dumptruck (50 cents is a cheap price to amuse her for an hour or two) and I am in the process of unknotting all my muscles. The “good” kids have already been over for an hour, and oddly, I’m not stressed by them at all. I just have a serious problem with unruly rude kids. And frankly, if you don’t have a problem with rudeness, be it kid or adult, you’re part of the problem. (Is that me forcing my neuroses on others or is it just common sense and manners?)

I was reading the school handbook and laughed out loud. It says to “exercise good judgment” when dressing my kid for school. Ha ha ha, that’s hysterical. It also says to dress them in a way “so as not to stand out from the crowd.” Literally. Forced conformity.  While I understand the well intentioned mentality of blending in to avoid bullying…It’s going to happen even if they all wear Borg implants and follow the collective. Too poor, too tall, too skinny, wears glasses, has braces, talks with a lisp, not very smart…The bullies will always find a way to alienate and torment others. And the being different in appearance is asking for bullying argument is a crock of shit enabling people to be bullies and jerks. Just because a woman wears a short skirt in public or a man wears a Rolex in a bad neighborhood doesn’t mean they are “asking” to be raped or robbed. This negating of responsibility for one’s own actions, ie, raping, robbing, bullying, is bullshit.

Aside from the Halloween shirts (If zombies attack, I’m tripping you), and a rattlesnake t-shirt, I can’t think of anything scary or unacceptable in her wardrobe. If the day comes when she wants to look differently, though, she will have my total support. (Unless she wants to be a juggalette, in which case I am eating my young cos the ICP and juggalo culture is played out.) That’s a joke, btw. I don’t care if she wants to be that or go back to the 70’s and wear bell bottoms. My mom let me dress how I wanted and while I took a lot of grief…It was worth it to just be myself and not conform. Besides, I tried to do the jeans and t-shirt thing. They still picked on me for being too tall, too heavy, too poor, having acne…It’s asinine to think that attempting to blend in will solve bullying.

Whatever. I have always had a problem with dress codes. I mean, if society wants uniformity, technically we all came into the world looking exactly the same: naked. Funny how that is discouraged.

On the flip side, if my kid wants to join the Borg and be assimilated…I will no doubt roll my eyes and make gagging noises…But again, she has my support. I want her to be who she is, not who I-or anyone else-wants her to be.

Am I ever going to get to my point, you wonder?

Is 2015 a good year for you? Literally, it could take me that long to get my mind on track.

Hopefully that will soon change.

I am going to start my Lithium tonight at bedtime, in spite of the label. If it makes you sleepy, I say use it to sleep. If it fucks with the levels, I will alter as needed. For the start, though…Night time is it. I have already decreased Cymbalta. Now the real fun starts. Withdrawal, getting lithium levels in a therapeutic zone, trying not to lose my mind and drive those around me insane while it all gets straightened out. While this may seem like a pessimistic attitude, if you’ve done something enough times and formed a vast experience-and it has been negative- well, you just kind of know what’s coming. I have never withdrawn from Cymbalta before, but if it’s even a third as bad as Effexor withdrawal…

I am about to enter the 9th circle of hell.

Now…I am going to shut up.

For now.

I’m like a chronic illness…Every time you think  you’ve silenced me…I open my mouth and rear my head again. 🙂

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