Not so wonder mom

We are in the middle of a big thunderstorm, lightning and thunder and all that. I should unplug my stuff yet I never do. Maybe I am tempting fate. Let it all burn. I’m an expert at starting from scratch. Not because I don’t get attached t0 things sentimentally but because I usually manage to save that which matters most and I can replace the rest. (I still have a “bitch goddess” keychain a friend bought for me when I was 15 but most of my stuff is…um, secondhand and not original.)  Knowing how gleeful R gets when there’s a storm cos it means fried electronics I should care more. Yet as long as we don’t burn up, I really don’t. I don’t have the frigging energy left. Or the money to fix shit, anyway.

My mother’s day has been…Sucky. I mowed the lawn. Yayyyy, what a gift to me. I planted the flowers I was given for mother’s day. My kid promptly dug them up and killed them all then declared I should buy her something. They let them make little totes at Sunday school that say “I love mom” and she’s spent the entire day screaming that it’s hers when obviously it was meant to be a gift for the moms. The self absorption, lack of empathy, and complete absence of remorse this child has makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out with fish hooks. Because while it may just be a kid thing, it could also signify the next gen sociopath on Deadly Women, (If you want a ray of sunshine, you’ve come to the wrong blog space.) I’m frustrated and yeah, hurt, that my kid cares more for herself than she does for me.

And she’s still at it, in spite of time out and grounding. All tears about how I hurt her feelings by not letting her have the bag that says “mom”. How I am holding a grudge over her murdering my flowers and should just buy her candy cos she said she’s sorry. I can deal with psychopaths. Sociopathy, not so much. I guess I am too harsh on her but…I’ve seen this behavior left unchecked and it never turns out well. So I keep trying to make a dent and failing and feeling shitty every single day of my life in addition to the mental stuff.

The twonk who says parenting isn’t a job should be shot before a firing squad. It’s a thankless job you can never get right no matter how hard you try. And while I am grateful that whatever saw that I got my dream of having a child…the mental health deities have not rendered me much sanity with which to parent. Especially not this particular child who while beautiful and smart and capable of being very sweet…is actually an expert in manipulation and guilt trips.


Hardly. There are those who say, “Well, you’re managing so how bad off can you be.” Then those who say, “Wow, considering all you have to deal with, you’re doing great.”
I’m…managing. It’s bad a lot of days and some days, it’s very bad. I’m pretty down on myself as a parent and I think maybe I deserve a little more credit from myself. I’m not perfect but I am making the effort and I am learning as I go along. Mainly, I’m staying the course and that says a lot.
But I’ve come to realize my biggest flaw is being inconsistent. And that all links right back to the instability of bipolar. I stand firm on “potentially fatal” things like sticking forks in outlets or running into traffic. But depending on mind frame and anxieties, I will threaten to ground her, then back down when her being inside is resulting in me freaking out from the noise. If I am manic, I will be bouncing off walls, playing water gun fights and such with her and ten different neighbor kids, I’ll forget all my boundaries and rules. If I am depressed, I won’t leave the house, get dressed (she’s asked more than once, “are you gonna take me to school in your pajamas again?) or take her to school events or friends’ birthday parties.
It’s hard to be consistent with her when I can’t even do it for myself.
So to some extent, I guess her defiance is my own fault. I deserve it, and all the judgments that come with it.
But I am trying.
I mean, there are people without any of my mental issues or financial constraints that would have crumbled by now. I’m still here, playing the hand I was dealt, doing the best I can for her.
And always trying to do better even if I fail. Gotta count for something.

There are days, like today, where she pushes the envelope so much it’s all I can do not to run screaming down the street. And if there’s a parent out there who says they’ve never had that fleeting thought when a kid misbehaves…They’re a fucking liar. Of course,you don’t abandon your kid(s). But the desire to do so when you’re struggling and drowning and they prove to be ungrateful rude little jerks…That’s natural and normal. No one wants to be treated like shit. When it’s your kid who does it in spite of you busting your ass to do good by them…
It’s food for the depression and anxiety.

Today I am being devoured. Which maybe is my punishment because hey, my uterus served its function, what gives me the right to expect a day of gratitude. (And yeah, a bit of sarcasm, but also, I know how the industries profit from flowers and card sales, so it has become bastardized.) I just…I dunno what I’d hoped for. It wasn’t any different even when the donor was here. He didn’t even think to buy me a gift or flower and Spook was too little to do it. Mother’s day can fuck off. I called my mom to say the usual platitudes but got compared to my sister who bought gifts because she’s “working” and all it was all I could do not to scream bloody murder…Because while we all got mother’s day gifts, mom and sis now have no food for the next week which left our dad to buying them some food. It’s so fucked up, I don’t even like to acknowledge it. They have three times the income I do (five times, actually) and yet while they blow money on superfluous shit, I’m pawning dvds to put gas in the car. Yeah, awesome, fuck you, family from hell. *(Yes, I should have let them put gas in the car as my mother’s day gift but, omg, the toilet lid broke so rather than face three weeks of pinched butts, I thought, I will just request that as my mother’s day present. How fucking lovely.)

Hard to believe how one child can wear me down so totally in the space of ten hours. She’s exhausting. She takes but rarely gives. She demands but does not reciprocate. Everyone would have me belief it’s normal childhood behavior but my gut is telling me this is beyond the superficiality most kids experience. I think because she doesn’t have a dad in her life, she’s become hateful towards me thus wants to make me go over the edge.

Insane? Maybe. Maybe not.

If people had really cared about me having a good mother’s day, they’d have brought me a big ass bottle of cake vodka. Because if your mood is shit, and your outer circumstances are shit…Alcohol will either improve your ability to endure or put you into a nice sleep.

Sucks. Because after I mowed the yard, I took a cool down shower, I looked out and thought, wow, this yard looks amazing, then I watched some shows and it was seeming ok in a low way…But the more the child hammers at my brain the worse I feel. I shouldn’t give her that much power and yet…She’s eating my soul. I’d do anything for her but she cannot have my soul.

I sold it to the mental illness years ago so she will starve.

I despise the way anxiety and mood can distort even that which normally gives us hope and pleasure. Rationality means fuck all when you’re this low.


One Response to “Not so wonder mom”

  1. Drain Circling, party of MI, this way. BTW, Sleepy Hollow was really good last season. Hope you can start countering the drain circle so we can have yet another fun topic to discuss that people have no clue about 😉 Managing means fuckall to others who have no clue. It’s like explaining Quantum Physics to a cat. As for the child, I’ve got nothing. Mine were like this today, and I seriously wanted to yell and scream and I turned into “You’re mean” mommy today. IDC. I’m burnt and fed up. Leave me the hell alone and I’m not here to be your friend. I unfortunately sprouted your nose goat horns-better you than me at least. At least the heathens have been fed and are clean. Small victories. Much love from one crypt to another

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