The carnival ride that is my mind

Know these horror stories of people dying on amusement park rides due to some malfunction of the ride?
My mind is a roller coaster that keeps going off the tracks and I’d like to sue the owner of this non amusement park.

Last night was my daughter’s Christmas program. Held in the high school auditorium. Wall to wall people and kids and noise. I forgot to breathe for a bit, until I was able to escape the petri dish masses and isolate myself in a deserted patch of seats. My mom and sister came, as well. It was unnerving but I did it. Felt nauseous and anxiety stricken by the time we got home and it wiped me out, all I could do was curl up in bed and try to return to solid mental ground.
But Spook looked beautiful, didn’t knock anyone off stage or sing “Sexy and I Know It” rather than “Rudolph The Rednosed Reindeer.” I was proud of both of us. Last year, I did not make it to her pre K Christmas program. I got sick and missed it and felt shitty about it for weeks to come. So I came, I went, and I conquered this year.
I actually felt like a successful mom, for once.

Today started out uneventfully. I opened the shop while R did a family thing. It was dead. My mood did its flipflop thing. I was ok. I got low. I was ok. I got really low. Fortunately, no waterworks.

THEN I picked my kid up and had errands to run. Oh, the joy of going to multiple places with a defiant five year old in tow. She nearly got my car door smashed when she flung it open in front of a car, after being told ten second earlier to wait for me to come open it. She nearly walked in front of a car by bolting off even though I was holding her hand. She fell and skinned her knee because she was skipping and i’d just said please walk…Every five seconds it was, “Can I have this?” Every no got a “you’re mean, I want a new mother.”
By the time we got back home, I was about to have a nervous breakdown. This is ONE hour long outing with her. I dread doing things with her. I seem to be the only person she does this shit to. I am told to lay down the law, “make” her behave, swat her butt, ground her, give her consequences…
Geniuses. None of it works. She’s too much like me. Defiant and free spirited.
It only becomes a big issue when she does shit that can get her hurt or ya know, when I am mid panic attack and mental breakdown in the middle of traffic and she just keeps hammering at my brain with questions and demanding I look at her so I can’t focus on driving. She’s a far more dangerous to driving than any cell phone.
It was one of those days, and evenings, where my disorders have taken on a life of their own and nothing I do makes me feel less anxious and frazzled or utterly defeated. Not like depressed, just mentally exhausted. And I wonder, “Was everyone right? Am I just not strong enough to be a parent?”
The way I see it, though, is her father was basically the darling of my family and the town, held a job, such a good man…And he walked out on her three years ago and hasn’t so much as sent her a birthday card.
So while I may be a bit of a hot mess and lack grace under parenthood pressure..I never left, I never shunned my responsibility to her. I am here.
So fuck those who question my abilities or adequacy.

As for everything else…What can you say about a week where you go to dye your hair then a cop shows up to speak to someone living with you. Just what I always wanted, a cop at my door, setting off my panic and then coming into my inner sanctum and making me feel my safe space has been violated.
Holding grudges is exhausting and yet…I’m entitled in this case.
I’ll get over it eventually, as much as I can.
But it will never be the same. Trust is not something you piss away and can expect to get back with me.
Beyond loving or liking someone, I have to trust them.

Life keeps proving no one can be trusted.
That’s not pessimism or a bad attitude.
It’s called my life.
I just must have this “Hurt Me” sign stuck to my back.
I refuse to view myself as a victim though. I just have shitty taste in friends, men, basically all humans.
Maybe it’s my self loathing at work, telling me all I deserve is people who will use me, hurt me, and ultimately ditch me.

The sad realization I came to is, I like it better when people do just piss off. I like being alone. I seek company when it suits me. My mom calls this selfishness, or being anti social.
I think it takes a very emotionally intelligent person to admit their own flaws and face them rather than hide from them.
My need to be alone may just be what makes people repelled by me, they sense I am never quite present because in truth, as much as I might like them or enjoy their company, I really am looking at the clock, waiting or them to leave.

People have brought me less joy and more pain. It makes sense their exit would signal an end to the threat of being hurt again and I’d look forward to that.

On the scale of shitty qualities I have, wanting to be alone isn’t really that big of a deal. I’ve never told people I am any other way.

Now…I am going to go bang my head against the wall. Not literally, just going to play with my kid. Nothing I do is ever good enough, so it will prove to be like banging my head against the wall.

Though what would be super helpful and kind is if someone would think to buy me the mouse pad with the “bang head here” in the bullseye area.
Desktop therapy.

Then I literally would be a head banger.


One Response to “The carnival ride that is my mind”

  1. I think it’s awesome that you pushed through it all and went to the Christmas program! That is a wonderful thing. It doesn’t matter what other people think, even though it does actually affect us, sometimes profoundly. I think you sound like a pretty cool person, and a cool mom. Don’t let the world discourage you or get you down. You got this 😉

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