Cracking up

It may be just me but some days I wake up not in a mood, but with an attitude. Today was one of those days. Ya know, doing what you have to do for your peripherals, kids, pets, house, et al…But pretty much ignoring your own needs outside having a pee, fetching a drink, and smoking a cigarette.  I knew I had to leave by 8:10 am…7:55 am comes and I am still sitting at my desk listening to Wednesday 13, no pants on, no hurry to go dig some out of the clean  but not folded laundry…Just this “fuck it, give me points for being awake” attitude.

And I was out the door on time, with pants. Some days it feels good to not be under self induced pressure “Better do this, I gotta do this NOW, omihgod the world will crumble if I don’t have my socks and shoes on by 8 am…” I wouldn’t mind waking with that attitude  every day.  But the tides turn too swiftly for there to ever be any constant in my world.

I fetched my kid from school and took her to mom’s so I could serve my time here at the shop. And Mom told me Rick (friend of the family) got his kids taken out of his home last night by the cops because one of the kids’ friends (an 8 year old) claimed he was raping the girls. No investigation, no proof, never mind his girlfriend’s constant presence because she doesn’t work and he is technically NEVER alone with the kids…An  8 year old said the right words to the right people and now three girls have been yanked from the one parent who has actually been there for them since their worthless mother abandoned them years ago.

This started a panic attack that is still running an hour later, not to mention setting off my anger issues and out of control paranoia.

Everyone says stupid shit like, “Oh, they don’t take kids away for no reason, he must have done something.”

Bulllshit. I was present back when R’s ex wife had his kids taken from him based on lies, he was guilty til proven innocent. (And I know they were lies because I was present for all the stuff she claimed happened, none of which actually happened.) This shit scares the shit out of me because I have witnessed that the system does not fucking work.

Losing my kid would be the one thing I could not survive.

So knowing this shit has happened, finding out it is still happening, and knowing the venomous little brats my daughter has befriended could say anything they want about me if I displease them by not letting them set my house on fire or whatever…

The panic is crippling.

And it’s been all damned week. Nothing has significantly changed in my stress level or situation except for all this flux with my meds. The doctor told me going off Cymbalta would give me sleep problems. She never mentioned that the panic disorder would somehow metastasize. And it has become like a cancer, devouring me this week on a daily basis, causing me to hyperventilate, to sweat, to tremble, to feel dizzy to the point of passing out. I am accustomed to the low level frequent panic attacks, those are just my life. But I have had at least six major panic episodes this week, which is more than I’d had in a six month period.

Panic, paranoia, brain zaps, side effects, and a cloud of terror of losing my kid hanging over my head…is making me feel like I am cracking up.

I keep telling myself it’s the meds in flux, hang in there, et al.

I think 80% is the med situation.

But I think a central issue is that I live in terror of some circumstance taking my kid away from me. It’s not enough to be a good parent when anyone at any time can make some crazy statement and the wheels of the system start turning. Now that she is in school and has friends, I have basically opened myself up to walking target status, waiting for someone to take a shot by taking issue with some aspect of my parenting. And as a mentally ill mom who also has some serious personality quirks…

It feels like the start of open season.

And I want desperately for it to be some facet of the mental disability, corrupt sensory input or something making me feel paranoia and terror.

But I keep thinking of what mom said, about how those three girls were doing their homework and the cops knocked on the door and removed them screaming and crying from their home….

My terror is not a mental illness, it is very very real.

And I am very very scared.

Because it is not about whether you’ve actually done anything to harm your child. It’s about who claims you have. Mentally ill or not, I think the prospect of “guilty until proven innocent” is scary as fuck.

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