Stick a spork in me, I am done

Oh how I would love to say it was a beautiful day filled with sunshine and frolicking puppies. Alas…My tolerance threshold hit the wall and my anxiety broke through the glass ceiling. I nearly vomited when it came time to go pick up my kid. Two weeks and the daily trauma has me ready to homeschool her. And yeah, I know all about “occupational therapy” and facing that which scares you most, blah blah blah. I am facing it. The cost is just so high, the thought of doing this daily for nine months makes me want to sign myself into a looney bin. Preemptive strike ‘cos if I am this shredded and worn down and becoming physically ill two weeks in…I’m gonna be a basketcase in a month.

And the insult to injury is I Mapquested two different routes from our address directly to the school’s address and because of ONE DIFFERENT TURN, our address is 1.8 miles. The school does not take that turn into consideration, only the shortest distance using side streets, and that puts it right at 1.3 to the bus stop. If they came to our door, we would be golden. Stupid asshole motherfuckers. That’s dirty pool. It feels discriminatory, too, for parents with limited income and have trouble affording the drop off and pick up routine.  I always thought riding the school bus was a right of any student to ensure their attendance. I mean, does she get an excused absence if I can’t put gas in the car to take her? Nope. They can refuse to transport her yet if I can’t get her there due to being low income, then she’s truant and it comes down on me. I want to present the superintendent with my Mapquest findings and earful but at the moment…I am so clusterfucked in the brain I can barely verbalize a full sentence before the frustration takes over and the swear words and growling start coming out.

Oh and I also asked if I drove her to a different bus stop nearest to us but still in their 1.5 mile requirement, would she be allowed to ride. Nope. They take home address only into consideration. Charming, eh?

So I am drained and aching and bruised in every way. My kid came after me again with her fists, then got so mad, she actually picked up Arsenic and was going to hurl him at me because she’d already hurled what she had in hand. Needless to say I took a hard line and sent her to her room. I can barely stand this behavior, I am doing EVERYTHING the so called experts and other “I’m a super parent, your kid would NEVER treat me that way!” lines spewed at me and it’s to no avail. There are moments she just seems possessed. She is also so manipulative, it’s creepy. She play slapped my arm earlier, so I slapped her arm back. But she shifted position so I lightly landed my hand on her side and she starts screaming bloody murder and bawling and being soooo injured…So I go to tickle her and just like a light switch, the tears stop, the laughter begins. I’ve almost started hoping for it to be a chemical imbalance of some sort because if this a preview of what her personality is going to imprint as…I may as well concede defeat and send her to reform school.

I know, I know, drama much. I’m just so exhausted…She is exhausting, her school’s bullshit is draining, and this neverending dance with my own metal stuff is embalming. I breathed such a big sigh of relief once we got home today because now I have two blissful days of not having to be beholden to her schedule and forced to wear the mask of “I’m ok” and deal with the pick up trauma…

Come Sunday night I will be wound for sound. I have to drop her off in the morning, then go to my shrink appointment. At which I will be truthful and say, “I am better than I was. I was running on 2 cylinders now I am at four. Which leaves four more cylinders not running at all.” And all he will hear is “better” and what is the fucking point? And when I mention not even his sleeping pills keep me asleep all night, he’ll want to jack up the doseage and turn me into a zombie. They medicate us to the gills so even if the mental shit is not making us function lowly, the meds are. More than once as of late I’ve pondered just saying fuck the meds, turn to a life of crime or some shit, stop jumping through these pointless flaming hoops. It’s a sad day when doing everything you’re supposed to be doing still results in you making zero progress. Hamster wheel of life, mental illness is.

I found a huge lump on Absinthe’s neck. It wasn’t there yesterday when I was flea combing her. Overnight she grew a little cat conjoined twin head. Pretty sure it’s an abscess but I have 2o cents to my name so all I can do is keep using a warm compress to shrink it down and ease her discomfort. After losing so many kitties, I am truly freaking out. I used some Google-Fu for info and just reading all the comments on pet forums about “if you can’t afford a vet visit, you’re not fit to own a pet.” So I guess people who can’t afford insurance should just die cos they’re not fit to live, either.

The cruelty of the human race sickens me daily and I cannot put a shiny happy spin on it. In fact, if anyone can, I don’t want to know that person because they are seriously fucked in the head. I watched some crime show and in the youtube comments, someone made a comment about a murdered 17 year old girl who was absolutely gorgeous, “Her eyes look retarted.” Um…Who is the hindered one there? Seriously, to leave such a comment on a true story where that girl’s family can see it…MONSTERS are real, they just wear skin and look perfectly benign.

And okay, if blowing it off as “inane, consider the source” helps you sleep at night…Whatever.

But how about a youtube clip about a FOUR MONTH OLD BABY DYING BECAUSE OF INJURIES CAUSED WHEN HER MOTHER ALLOWED HER BOYFRIEND TO HAVE SEX WITH THE INFANT?   Do tell me what positive spin could ever be put on that to make it less horrendous? To be part of the same species as someone who could do such a thing makes me hate my humanity.

Am I picking out the bad things and leaving out the good? Nope. This is just what I’ve encountered this week from reading on line. “News” is a synonym for “gonna make you want to slit your wrists”.

You want some sunshine? Hmm…I’ve renamed my kid’s cat Fetish, or Feet-ish for short. Why? Because she kept renaming it and I got flustered and said, “Oh for pete’s sake, I’m just gonna call him Feet!” Then it morphed into Feet-ish and for me, Fetish. But yeah, Feet it is.

More sunshine? Well, I’ve not murdered anyone or myself with a spork this week, that’s always a plus.

I am well aware I am being bitchy but that’s just how much the last week has taken out of me. I’m climbing a molasses hill in six inch stilettos here. It’s okay to be frustrated, to have a chip on your shoulder. Some things just plain suck.

And then a few things don’t. Like Arsenic laying on me right now catnapping so contently. Like finding a new show I really liked and am sorry there were only ten episodes available. Like next week is supposed to be in the nineties everyday which means I’m gonna be marinating in sweat but it could delay the bubbling undercurrent of seasonal depression that the cooler temps bring…

I can spew all the good things. It doesn’t change the bad things. If anything, it makes me pretty damned sad that the bad outweighs the good. So why would I want to be reminded of the imbalance by deluding myself with shiny thoughts?

All I can do is trudge along, and hope along the way my stiletto punctures the jugular of a few trolls.

Now…A couple of parting lines heard on TV that made me tee hee the tiniest bit.

“She didn’t get the death penalty because the devil wasn’t ready to have someone more evil than him in Hell.”

“Should I slip into something more appropriate, like, say, a coffin?”

Keep calm and…I am so sick of seeing those shirts, all the teachers had them on today. I wanna change it up…


Purge complete. The roller coaster has returned to the station, you may safely unhook your seatbelt and disembark to the right…Oh, wait, the left, I get things confused, so sor-SPLAT!!!!!!

This is directionally challenged bipolar people with ADD do not make good roller coaster operators. Hate when that happens.


10 Responses to “Stick a spork in me, I am done”

  1. This is exactly what happened to me. I lived too close to school, bus wouldn’t take me. So I was registered using my grandparents address. Still fell into that school, but met the required mile thing. It was less painful to our finances to drive to my grandparents than school.

  2. I used to fight with my daughter like that, until she was diagnosed with a mood disorder too. Now we are both on mood stabilizers and things are better

  3. I wonder (and you probably already thought about this) if you could walk her to school. I don’t know how old she is, this may not even be an option based on her age. Not right to the door, but close enough that you can get her through safely and watch her go inside. It could help with your anxiety of driving through the mess of cars. It could also give her the release of energy she may need to be able to control herself better.

    I have mentioned to my therapist many times and my pdoc once or twice, that I would like to wean off all my meds and see what I look like unmedicated. I feel like we’re fighting a losing battle here. Maybe if we start from scratch we’d have better luck. But, of course, I’d probably end up in the fucking hospital, which I don’t want. You’re absolutely right…if it’s not the mental condition it’s the meds. We just can’t win with this.

    • My kid can’t walk down the street without getting tired let alone do 1.3 mile there and 1.3 mile back. That’s my problem- her stamina and besides, during cold temps, a child walking would be considered abuse even if accompanied by parent.
      It’s like my hands are tied but for the moment, I’m just gonna cut corners on whatever I can to afford gas. Maybe my mind will clear enough that I can figure something else out. Like a turbo charged broomstick, IDK.

  4. The bus thing continues to make me super-angry for y’all. Such bullshit, especially with your super-valid point about the classism of it. Blargh. Admin crap suck. Having to fight it sucks. ><

  5. There has got to be a way you can solve this bus thing because it’s so unfair. I get that taking to them is just infuriating, but you could write a nice letter in very-sorry-for-yourself tones (appeal to their human kindness) and copy it to the local paper, or something. Or threaten to copy it to the local paper. And then do it if there is no response. Or the local radio. My dad taught me a few tricks to get stuff even though you’re not entitled, because of all the travelling and never arriving in time, not being residents and so on. I never started using them till now. One of them is using local public opinion as a threat. Act upon it if they do nothing: it raises awareness and you will be helping others like you.
    The place you are surrounded with makes me really angry. No wonder your anxiety plays up!

  6. I’m just gonna stay seated here on the Morgueacoaster.
    This school bus shit is asinine especially with the devil girls riding the bus. Fuck all that. You are a wonderfully attentive pet owner. Arsenic is lucky (yeah I know shiny fluffy puppies shitting rainbows. Put your poncho on 😉
    As for Spook, I worry about you having to do this alone. You haven’t projected anything on her so you aren’t a bad parent. You are doing the best with the shit hand of cards dealt and even climbing the molasses mountain in stilettos, you’re doing a HELL of a lot better than those muggles. Climb on Sister, climb the fuck on! ❤

  7. I may be speaking out of turn, but morgue, lately your posts have see, ed despairing to me. You’ve been on my mind for the last couple of days.

    • I’m stressed and frustrated, especially with season change coming. This is how it starts, I seem in despair and negative. While exhausted, I’m now down for the count. Thanks for the concern. Maybe when I see Dr Feelbad Monday, he can figure out something to help. And pegacorns might fly out of my armpit. 😉

      On Sat, Aug 29, 2015 at 11:30 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


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