I am hanging by a thread today. War with my kid first thing this morning. She ordered me to cut a chunk of her hair out cos it was sticky with bbq sauce from lunch yesterday. I told her it was her own fault because she was showered last night and told to wash her own hair when she demanded I get out and give her privacy. I even pointed it out when wrapping her in a towel and telling her we needed to rewash it right. That set her off last night and I was in hell with period pain so I let it go. She makes choices, let her live with them.

So this morning she just started yelling at me, mouthing off to every single thing I said. And being all hormonal I went from being angry to being weepy hurt to wanting to send her to live with her father because I CANNOT HANDLE MUCH MORE OF LIVING WITH THIS CHAMELEON FROM HELL. So goody goody to everyone else, a goddamn demonic presence to me.

I’d be the first to say if I felt I was in any way distorting this due to hormones or mental bad code. But this has been going on for years, R has seen it, Mrs R has seen it, Bex saw it when she was here. Spook is just awful to me, plain and simple. And it always revolves around being told “no” or some other thing I must do as a parent. I feel like my hands are tied, cement blocks are around my ankles, and I’ve been pushed into nasty murky water. I am drowning and nothing can save me.

It’s weird because yesterday was just typical day one of shark week, immense pain and an inability to stay awake so I napped most of the morning. I was too pain ridden and bone weary to have true feelings.

Except for when my kid said she told her friends I only shower her once a week. That made me furious. She had 4 showers last week, ffs, and during winter, the pediatrician said provided she’s not covered in mud, every other day is fine. But I guess some super parents bathe their kids 7 days a week, and probably have cooperative kids who don’t scream and growl at them like a rabid animal. Mine is a wild card. I never know when I am going to say “time to shower” and find her agreeable or feral.

I’m sick of her pathological lying, sick of the growling, sick of her crap, period. Now if you follow me at all, you know I live for that child. But I am hanging by a damned thread here and I’ve got no help, no support. I have never felt so alone and scared  before in my life.

So easy peasy, right, just get her into counseling, maybe they refer her to a child psych. Or lock me up cos it really is just me and I’m a bad mom.

Not so easy. Because I got a medical bill and turns out, her donor’s insurance doesn’t kick in til you’ve met a $4000 yearly out of pocket. Will public aide cover some of it? I have no idea. But that is utterly useless insurance. I can’t pay a $400 doctor bill on what is coming in. He won’t help because as far as he, and the law, are concerned, him having insurance and his support pittance are all he is responsible for. And thing is, that was just ONE bill from back in December. I’ve got THREE more coming and one of them was that seven hour ER trip with all the labwork and X Rays.

Last thing I need now is to try and get therapy if his insurance won’t cover it and some services aren’t covered by public aid if primary won’t pay.

I fucking hate that I ever listened to all these assholes around me who insisted getting him involved just for child support money would improve our lives. We’ve never been so poor and I’ve never had this kind of debt coming in.

I wish that was all that was wearing me threadbare. The shower faucet decided to go FUBAR last night and the cold water won’t turn off. All night it’s been running and so now i have to call the useless landlord for one of his useless people to come fix it. Maybe since he pays the water bills he will be motivated to get it fixed right away. The sound is driving me nuts, because it’s not the relaxing sound of a shower, it’s that high pitched sound of water almost turned off but still on. All.fucking.night.

Why can’t I catch a break at all?

Is this my karma? Am I really being punished for being bipolar and “getting mine” in the form of a kid that treats me the way I’ve treated others in the past even though there was no ill intent, just badly treated mental code?

Am I just feeling sorry for myself?

Topping it all off, R wants me to come to the shop today and I am in pain, still tearing up at the drop of a hat, and gotta get this damned faucet thing fixed.

Hanging by cheaply made thread that is going to snap if someone so much as breathes on it.

If life is a gift, I got the gag fake dog poop.


4 Responses to “Thread”

  1. Ugh Morgue what a mess. Hopefully useless landlord got the shower fixed for you. I know it’s the minorest of the problems, but still, it is a problem.

    I wish I had words of wisdom for you as far as Spook is concerned. But, I know you already know all the right things to do. All I could say is that you probably have to be massively consistent in the way you deal with things, but with bipolar along for the ride, that can’t be easy in the slightest.

    • Two hours and no faucet fix. It’s no drip, there’s enough pressure for a cold shower and as he pays the water bill…it’s his dime but the shrill sound is really rattling me.

      As for Spook…It occurred to me how much she is like me. She has to have a nemesis. R is mine, I guess I am hers. Best I can do is not let her drive me away and love her no matter how awful she is. Consistency is a nice dream. To my credit, after she punched the android screen the other day, I’ve taken it away from her and no amount of her fussing has made me back down.

      Win some, lose a lot. Keep fighting, ya know?

      On Wed, Feb 22, 2017 at 10:15 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


  2. I love you and wish… but you know. Stay strong.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: