Archive for July, 2017

Frogs on My Skin

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , on July 31, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

To give an inkling of how stressful my weekend has been…While driving earlier amidst the chatty Kathy doll in the backseat that is my child…A fly landed on my arm repeatedly and I seriously thought, I am so sick of these frogs getting on my skin.

Bizarre, fucked up, all that jazz, right? Not really a novelty, though. My brain is constantly substituting wrong words in my head and out aloud. (Have you read my posts, hello???I am not stupid nor bad with spelling nor illiterate, my brain JUST DOESN’T WORK RIGHT.) Least I have an idea where the ‘frogs’ thing came from. I was playing frog vs Shopkins with my kid earlier (the little plastic toys) so apparently I had frogs on the brain and metaphorically on my skin. Hmmmph.

Friday wasn’t awful. Mrs. R called and invited us to go for a car ride to the boondocks so she could pick up some dollhouse for her grandkids then she took us out for ice cream and back to the house for wine and lots of whine (Spook had to endure hanging out kid free, all the while bemoaning her boredom and how unfair it was for her to be so bored. Welcome to my life, kiddo.) R had a friend over he’s trying to teach guitar to, which of course, I was not warned about so that made me a little ill at ease. Oddly, the guy is from the neck of woods near where I threw up, er grew up, so his country ways were more welcome than the normal uppity company the R’s have. My kid acted like a spazz, saying it was creepy to be around two men playing guitar and she acted like Mrs R was gonna bite her and she was ‘nervous’. Yet she spends three days miles away from me meeting various yahoos my dad knows and she’s fine. The kid is turning my brain to Jello.

Saturday started out okay. Then dad darkend my step and informed me one of the kids Spook had played with during her time at their house had been found to have a louse in her hair. And BAM, down came everything crashing. I instantly checked my kid’s hair, having noticed almost no itching or anything visible and yet…I found two live buggers and a mix of nits and dandruff and scalp pieces. Into treatment mode we went. Tons of laundry, combs, brushes, mayo, conditioner, five different shampoos and conditioners, combs, tweezers…What a fucking nightmare. And doubly grueling cos I go ahead and treat myself with no proof I have it because I just won’t risk it. SEVEN times even after being told about lice and sent away her brat ass friends knocked on the door. Which made me get my yell on. (Horrid time to run out of real cigarettes, nerves toasted and roasted.)

Plus side, no friends, little stress. Spook and I got along ok.

Suck side, I lost my suck ass phone somewhere Friday night and no idea where and calling it from another line won’t help cos it was on vibrate and almost dead. Now I have to replace the damned phone at my own cost when I do not have the extra money and meanwhile, no one can reach us and I can’t even dial 911 cos I have NO PHONE. In a way, it’s a relief. They can accuse me of ignoring them but when you don’t have the phone to ignore, they’re the jackasses. Not a relief, having to cough up money for another phone. I hate phones but with school starting, I gotta have one. Not to mention it’s my alarm clock too so Spook and I overslept and she couldn’t go to church today even though I’d cleared her hair.

I kept her inside until 1 pm and the kid shocked me by tearing into her nightmare closet mess and bagging up junk and old clothes and tossing them out. I was so proud of her for taking initiative and bursting into action. I, on the other hand, woke to find my shark week had arrived way earlier than usual (often happens when starting a new medication and hormones fluctuate, I did the research, it’s happened a few times with new meds.) Anyway, no smokes, shark week=bitchy listless Morgue. Kid was doing all this stuff and most I did was feed indoor and outdoor cats and wash dishes. In all fairness, I busted my ass yesterday with all the treatments, washing, vacuuming, dishes, cat care…

She decided after cleaning and three kids knocking that she was done and I said, let’s go through your hair again to be safe and so…tantrum began and she pouted in her room a half hour. Then she came out and let me comb and pick through her hair and I relented. Only to have yet another day of kids in my yard, asking for food, and her bickering with everyone or getting a booboo every five seconds. By the time she came inside, I was ready to drop into bed. But no, I had to play the Shopkin/Frog/Hello Kitty game with her and I set an amount of time because it was nearing bedtime and as usual..She kept trying to barter for more time by using guilt trips and accusations of neglect. Even after I let her have the TV to watch cartoons and asked for TEN SIMPLE MINUTES WITHOUT MOM MOM MOM…Ninety seconds in, there she was in my doorway, mom mom mom.

I should be bald from yanking out clumps of hair.

Speaking of hair, I really found I hated the way the dye turned all pink and orange this time so I dug out a box of black dye that’s been there for months and mostly went back to black with a few patches of the pinkish orange pieces. Which are likely gonna be dyed purple at some point. Because I can and because it’s fun to freak out the local rednecks who think anything but denim and flannel is “freak show” territory. Idgets.

Now she is finally out for the night and I am waiting for my Xanax and melatonin to kick in. I have shark week spinal pain and I just want to rest. It was the weekend from hell and I earned a rest. I say so.

Three…more…weeks. Then school starts and my nerve endings may actually stop fraying and bursting into flames daily. A mom can dream…

Sandman, Interrupted

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on July 28, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I woke up around 4 a.m. this morning and could not get back to sleep. Which was bizarre because two hours earlier, I got up to use the bathroom and the melatonin had me so sleep logged I nearly nodded off on my feet. My internal clock is seriously broken.

Suffice it to say, interrupted sleep is always annoying but this time, I got downright agitated which turned into anger. The kittens were climbing all over, then one of them peed on me (they became outside cats today, cute is not worth all the damned cleaning involved in trying to litter train cats that were born outdoors) so I had to clean up and change bedding. By that time I’d taken more melatonin and a half mg of Xanax but my brain was spinning. And my kid woke and got into bed with me and wanted to chat endlessly about her plans for the day with her friends so that got me more stressed. I pondered if maybe I woke because I was in bed before ten p.m. but then again, it was after ten thirty last I looked at the clock so that isn’t really going too bed too early, is it? I thought perhaps my normal calming background noise of TV shows was preventing a return to sleep so I shut out all lights and sound.

Didn’t help. I was hot, I was cold. I covered up, uncovered, tossed, turned. The sky was lightening as it neared 5:30 a.m. and I am not one who can sleep easily unless it is dark. Of course, my dollar store sleep masks have the skinny straps so I can’t find any of them and I have about ten. (My kingdom for a decent damned sleep mask with a wide strap so it will stay in place during sleep!) I took another melatonin and kept swearing and tossing and sitting up and using the e-cig in hopes a puff or two would mellow out the agitation. Come to find out, a yapping child is very much part of the agitation as are clawing climbng yowling kittens. I kicked the cats out, told her to go to sleep, and by seven a.m. I finally nodded off…only to wake a few more times for various reasons which got me agitated all over again.

I am screwed when it comes to sleep disturbance. I can’t hack the script sleeping pills, they render me a drooling corpse for 12 hours with a 6 hour hangover for the day. Melatonin takes awhile to kick in, doesn’t keep me down and sometimes also triggers drooling zombie shuffle. Guess it’s a good thing I don’t require that absurd 8 or 9 hours a night of sleep that ‘normal’ people do. I just know when I am this stressed courtesy of kids and finances and cats…sleep is my refuge and to have insomnia rob me of that small sense of peace….

pisses me the fuck off.

Least my kid slept until nine, so I wasn’t forced into functionality too soon, got another ninety minutes-ish.

She’s been friending for four hours now and driving me nuts running in and out, yelling from outdoors expecting me to come running, bickering, narcing on her friends yet being not bright enough to just come inside and avoid the monsters…This is why my days seem so damned long, it’s just rinse, lather, repeat. My kingdom for a kid who sits in front of a TV for hours and is happy about it.Well, during summer anyway, cos it’s fucking bullshit I get stuck running a free daycare and refererring while all these other lazy parents do fuck all to take care of their own kids. These parents are so bad, a ten year old was picking lice nits out of a 5 year old’s hair and the parents were just letting this kid with active lice run around free. FFS. Even my lazy depressed ass isn’t that bad.

If anything, I think I am getting better as a parent. Spook’s friend INVITED HERSELF to stay the night last night and I said no and Spook said, “Text her mom yes, it’s two to one because we want her to stay.” I don’t think so, bratty pants. This coddling of the snowflakes is what has lead to teenagers too lazy to take out trash or wash a dish yet still they want their smart phones and their video game systems and they want rides to socialize and they want whatever asinine trend that costs the most money…

I’m going full on bitch mom to keep that from happening to Spook. If I don’t cute adorable purring kittens slack, I won’t be doing it for my kid. Frankly, she’s got everyone thinking she’s too cute to be as poorly behaved as I say, I am the ONLY person telling her the truth and giving her a reality check. She may stress me out with her constant need to play but I finally have my house back, I make them stay outside and that is how it’s going to stay. Once I found out THEIR parents don’t let my kid come in for a drink of water or to even use the bathroom…My door closed real fast. Play fair or get the fuck away from me. The parents, not the kids. Though the kids could get away from me and go take a basic manners class or something. Yeah, yeah, I swear, I’m hostile, I’m impatient…I still know to say please and thank you, sir and ma’am, I don’t invite myself places, I don’t demand other people give me their food so I will be their friend, and I sure as hell don’t let my kid parade around with active lice to infest a dozen other kids. Basic. Manners.

Gotta have a license to fish but any idget can be a parent.

3.more.weeks. School starting used to be the bane of my existence and now it is my saviour. Life is funny that way.

Low Blow

Posted in bipolar depression with tags , , , on July 27, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

Welcome to cyclothymic bipolar disorder. I was hardly bouncing off walls the last two days but I wasn’t down or low functioning or well, depressed. This evening my mood has totally crashed with no real explanation except, nature of the beast. (Bipolar, not me, I am a sexy beast, it is not.)

Perhaps that is the mystery that stymies doctors and patients alike. WHERE do these abrupt mood crashes come from? So much chatter about “there has to be a trigger” but there simply was not one today. I suppose I could blame the gray rainy day as that is normally something that affects my mood but we’ve had so much heat and almost no rain for months I welcomed the wet and gloom. And it wasn’t until after supper, where I did battle to ‘be normal’ and sit at a table and share a meal with my child…she bolted for her fiends, er, friends, and my mood…I guess feeling ditched might explain a mood crash.

Or again, nature of the beast.

Plus side, my sanity seems stable. I am no longer viewing my family with quite as much hate, even took Spook to see my mom today. To mom’s credit, she didn’t get spawn the tablet, she showed me a little MP3 player thing but it plays videos, I guess. She’ll still be making catalog payments next year, long after my snowflake has destroyed it. I am so grateful I learned my lesson on all that crap. Rather have used shit and no payments.

Another plus, R installed a used Pioneer stereo in the car for me last night. Bad side, I had to listen to him lecture me on how I am wrong to identify more with democratic views than republican, I listen to fake news, I don’t read things properly, I am ignorant, blah blah blah. He’s become a politcal zealot and he NEVER used to be, at all. I never even knew if he voted, let alone that he is non partisan but favors Republicans when voting. It’s not something I am interested in. I said as much and he told me I am part of the problem. Guess that was the price for making my rusted bucket of bolts worth $100 more dollars. Least the stereo drowns out the lack of muffler. And it’s running better now so I won’t be trapped getting a ride to Bumfuck for my kid’s pony birthday party at my dad’s (So much crap, my kid likes the neon color plastic ponies, she’s not a horse fan, my stepmonster is the one into horses, so no brain needed to know whose idea this debacle was.) I will go, stay as long as my nerves will handle (my uncle and his crew will be there and two downers from dad’s side and the overbearing monster of step are gonna drive me to drink, even my sister is dreading the entire thing, that’s how awful these people we call family are for your mental health.)

Honestly, people who don’t even include the mom in the birthday are pretty awful, doncha think?

Just gotta make it through the next seven days being penniless and AGAIN running low on food. Least junk food, have actual food. Wish I had money for brake fluid, my car is low again thanks to the leak that is never gonna get fixed because I can’t afford a mechanic who will actually fix it rather than just promise to. (You get what you don’t pay for.) Then I gotta survive that hellish party in the sticks, another get together mom is having (Spook wants it at a park and I am allergic to everything outdoors so it will be misery for me, too, and sorry, I do not control allergens and histamines, it is what it is.) Then figure out what to do with her for her actual birthday. Dad’s takeover ruined the plans we’d made. Ass trash.

I thought venting might help me feel better but…nope. Low is low. And perfectly normal for bipolar. I had a good run. And yeah, 2 days without splat is a good run for me. Good ole cyclothymia. The sun’ll come out tomorrow and all that bullshit. New day, yada yada. Now to peel all the kittens off of me so I can go check on the marauding spawn.

Is it bedtime yet? Big fan of bedtime when splat hits. And who wouldn’t prefer sleep and even bad dreams to the frustration of trying to figure out why one minute you felt fine and the next, you wanted to assume the fetal position under Fort Blankie?

Not an Unsolved Mystery, preferring Mr. Sandman.

Make American Hate Again

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , on July 26, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

YEP. Tis that time again. That time when Morgue forgets this is a mental health blog and tosses in her political pennies not because I have any use for politics but because…it’s the reality these days and reality is hideous. This country will never be great again under current leadership. It’s just one man’s carnival to teach the sheeple to be hatemongering narcissistists like himself (anyone catch the Boy Scout Jamboree thing? Or the Tweets where he even dragged his 11 year old into his own media circus? Disgusting.) Of course, being king narcissist, even if you lick his pricey shoe leather and agree with every word out of his mouth, you will still be beneath him and unworthy of his presence. It’s Narcissistic Personality Disorder 101, in any DSM version.

But, Morgue, almost EVERY high profile and public figure has narcissistic qualities, it’s what makes them good leaders.

True, sociopaths are most often very successful. Because they have no conscience and have zero self awareness.

I had hope for a new regime, a president whose roots weren’t lifelong political involvement. I really did. What I have seen is essentially the start of The Movie That Never Was- Gray State. (One of the guys involved in making the trailer suddenly killed his wife, kids, and himself with no prior history of suicidal ideation, hmmmmm.) I am just one more ‘crazy’ person but the state of things these days…My crazy is looking pretty sane when our most powerful supposedly intelligent and cultured leader spends half his time traveling to his estate to golf and the other half dictating mindless hate mongering tweets to his minions if not verbalizing the hatred itself in his public speeches. I find it appalling. I am a nobody, but I’m still an American with a right to free speech.

I know the rare occasion I post political, it’s pretty much overlooked, ignored, or it starts some flame wars which I mostly spam because I refuse to have a battle of wits with unarmed individuals. But frankly, my mental state is pretty solid today because I got a call from my beloved spawn late last night declaring how much she misses me and wants to come home…and it made my blackened stone heart dance in bright pink and red Valentine’s colors and turn to old school Slush Puppy material.

So I am entitled to a political rant on occasion if my mental demons are safely tucked away in their closet and not rattling their chains.

I will NOT be assimilated and say I “hate” President Trump. Hatred is not what this country, nor tis world, needs. Acceptance, tolerance, kindness, a return to values that all can honor without reservation…That’s what is needed and that is what I pray to the sacred pegacorn, spaghetti monster, God, and all other deities for.

A quote I heard yesterday that rings out for me, because it is precisely why I am so concerned with my child’s conscienceless behavior…

“To educate a man in mind and not in morals is to educate a menace to society.” – Theodore Roosevelt

If your big morality measure is pride in not having had a drink of alcohol your whole life yet you tout religion and moral values while spewing hatred and intolerance…

You sort of are a menace to society.

Let the hate comments begin.

Living Nightmare

Posted in biolar disorder with tags , , , on July 25, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I’m not some new agey type who puts much stock into the meaning of dreams. I don’t buy into it being some subconscious desire or fear being played out during sleep. I’ve watched gory movies and slept dreamlessly so I don’t believe fictional violence is a big factor.

Last night’s dreams, though, put me on red alert to just how tormented I am over my situation with my family, or at least, the fun pants grandparents who are making my life a living hell. I dreamed all night about being trapped at my mom’s with my kid and at every turn, my mom, my sister, my sister’s friends,they were all luring my kid to their side with all their happy fun pants ideas and even when I had a valid reason for saying no, it’s time for us to leave…they would put me in the position of being the bad guy telling my kid no happy fun pants time.

The dream was endlessly. Every time I thought it was over because I had confronted my mom about her usurping my parental authority and causing me stress…it would start up in a loop again, more situations where I was the bad guy wanting to take my kid home rather than cede to their demands or guilt trips.

Don’t think you gotta be a new agey dream believer type to grasp that this is a huge problem for me causing me great dismay and it’s seeping into my dreams, the ONE place I have found safe space during this last year long depression. When that one therapist told me my family is toxic and the only way to save myself was to limit contact, she was a fucking sage. Of course, I didn’t have the golden grandchild back then so they didn’t much care if it was months without seeing me, I was just dismissed as the rude antisocial bitch. Now I have Spook and by trying to protect myself and her from their brand of insanity and lack of character, I’m a monster whose mental illness is out of control.

Just because I don’t want to be in a situation that makes me physically ill from stress and reinforces the worst qualities they could instill in a child.

I just don’t know how much fight I have left in me. Spook’s been gone 3 days now and not so much as a call from dad’s. You’d think a child 15 miles out of town from her mom would want to talk to mom for a minute or two. Not my kid. Ply her with ice cream, other kids, Spongebob, and buy her stuff and she’ll forget you exist, only happy fun pants people are there. It hurts. I’m not helicopter clingy mom, either, I am glad she’s not whiny britches who can’t be away for a day. I just wish she had enough of a connection to me to miss me enough for a two minute phone call. Of course, she claims they won’t let her use the phone and scream at her when she says she misses me. I don’t doubt stepmom does do that. And I know EVERY time I call, dad never puts Spook on the phone cos she is busy with friends or playing outside or my idget brother took her to the gas staton to buy ten dollars worth of junk food thus ensuring he’s happy fun pants and I am persona non grata.

I keep wondering why I am so offended by my family’s behavior. Nothing new. Guess it’s because they’re sucking my kid into their vortex and she already has enough traits that are…well, qualities of a shitty person, I’ll spare the lecture on how sociopathy can’t be diagnosed in children. But she has no conscience or empathy and has suddenly started thinking reading and books are dumn ‘because grandma and grandpa don’t read” and…I’m not a lunatic for wanting to limit her exposure to these people. Am I? Not that I am a great example but I am her mother, biologically, legally, and in every other way. It should be my call and these people who supposedly love me just stomp all over me like I am so much fluff. Why, cos I have mood swings?

I try to look at it from every angle, see the shades of gray, factor in my mental state, brain bug irratinal anxiety to see if I am overreacting…

I don’t believe I am.

For now, it’s hunker down time, try to survive next week’s multiple birthday plans, and after that…Put ten padlocks on the door to keep them away from her. I have to regain her respect and that’s not gonna happen when these idiots keep telling her everything I say and do is wrong and their way is the only way. Because mom’s way is very different than dad’s way so the child is getting mixed signals and no wonder she acts out like a spoiled little monster. When we go weeks without contact with my family, she starts to straighten up, we get closer, we get along better…proof in the pudding and all that.

This would be so much easier if bipolar didn’t constantly make me question myself. And society’s stigma makes it no better. You know your thoughts can be distorted, you admit it, but people keep using it against you to the point you wonder if that time you got your wallet stolen, maybe you just gave it away and forgot it cos crazy people do that and don’t want to take responsibility…

A therapist might serve as a sounding board but unless they moonlight as hitmen…Not gonna help my situation. Hunker down time. I survived 17 years under the same roof as those loons, I’ll be damned if they’re gonna take me down when I live on my own and count on them for nothing. They’re using a child as a weapon and it’s just one more reason I find them despicable.

I just want to teach her to be a good person. They just want her to think they are the better people. Whose motives are less disgusting?

The Brain Bugs Have Returned

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , , on July 24, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

I find myself at a loss often to describe what generalized anxiety disorder is like. Best comparison I’ve found is…brain bugs. Yes. Not technical, not pretty, but if you’ve ever been outdoors on a summer night or on a picnic and felt several bugs crawling in your hair or on your skin…THAT. Only it’s inside your brain and not actually on your skin. The bugs are not real, they just feel…so…damned…real.

I had a brief respite because my kid went to live in the sticks for a few days with my dad and his crew yesterday. Amazing how much calmer I am without the life of another human being solely in my hands. But I didn’t escape the kids. R and I saw out in the yard and the kids still came around even when I sent them away. And I interceded at one point because this girl Abigail was being bullied and I really like her. She’s the tween who had supper with Spook one night and saw me getting flustered and actually asked, “Is this too much for you?” I got a soft spot for the nice ones, they are few and far between. As proven by Spook’s brand new bike being ripped off during a brief but mega vicious thunderstorm last week. OF COURSE,DAD, I should have totally gone out into the middle of driving rain and huge bolts of lightning to secure an 80 dollar metal bike. Silly me, thinking even shitty trailer park parents would keep their offspring inside during a driving rain and lightning storm. I suck.

Anyway…I kicked ass yesterday while the spawn was at church. I did laundry, folded 8 baskets, did dishes, cleaned all the cat boxes, swept, mopped, vacuumed, cleaned the bathroom…And then I took my meds right before she got home and by the time she was back…I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Because that’s what happens when I take them together. But if I space them out, I forget one or two of them and all the levels go FUBAR so wtf. And once the sleepiness passed, I got a killer migraine from the bright sunlight so when dad came to fetch her, recrimination rang out in his voice because I looked like I’d been asleep while my kid was down the street playing. Sorry if bright sunlight makes me look disturbed. Migriane didn’t help much either.

Today, because for fucks’ sake, I was still in debt to R, I had to go to the shop Which of course meant I woke at 5 a.m. and couldn’t nod back off so I took a Xanax then dropped out an hour before the alarm and then kept waking every 5 minutes because I was scared of oversleeping and having the texting chihuahua on my ankles. It disturbed me so much, I got up and even got there 15 minutes before I’d promised. Faking joy, of course, because depressed people aren’t allowed. And ya know, I can fake the smiley face or at least amiable silence.

What I cannot ever seem to do is fake my way beyond the brain bug anxiety. It set in after 2 hours and I was itchy and twitchy and my mind was OCD about ‘let me out of here, i need my safe space, please, mercy, uncle, please stop torturing me!” And R doesn’t understand anyone’s anxiety but his own so he was just puttering along while I’m all whip cracking to focus so I can do what I need to do and abscond…While the brain bugs gnaw away at my brain and central nervous system. And while coming home did calm me some…I went back out and found myself in the bright florescent store light, feeling the brain bugs return, making me all itchy and twitchy again. As if the accidentally pink hair doesn’t draw enough attention (never ever accidentally bleach black hair platinumm and apply red dye unless pink is your goal, no no no)…Being all twitchy and looking paranoid like someone about to rob the store cos you need to escape just makes you even more noticeable.

Now I am home and in for the night and it’s not a thousand degrees outside so it’s not a sauna inside and I can just breathe. For now. When I start thinking about my dad being so snotty about me saying I want my kid home by Wednesday evening for her church group and him saying “we’ll see’…My anger issues start bubbling. Because she’s my kid and my word should be law but he and my mother have to usurp me then wonder why I loathe them both. And with her birthday the week of August 7th and everyone having all different plans for her…My anger issues aren’t gonna go away any time soon.

Fortunately, I have the start of school mid August and return to a schedule that cannot be disrupted by grandma and grandpa fun pants because even they’d be held accountable for putting their fun ideas over her schooling…I will cling to that. Yeah, the school clothes and all that is stressful and all the starting activities will make the brain bugs start crawling but…it will also mean I survived another summer with brain bugs, incompetent meds, and a yammering ungrateful spawn…

That is no small thing. She breaks R down, and he’s a narcissist, he should be able to take on the most loud annoying child on the planet. Mine breaks him.

I am so kick ass.

Now I’m gonna go pet the brain bugs. Hey, I said I’m kick ass and I survived my kid all summer. Never said a word about ‘with sanity in tact’.

Family Ties Don’t Bind, They Strangle

Posted in bipolar disorder with tags , , , on July 22, 2017 by morgueticiaatoms

My morning started sucky and got suckier, so I was on edge and feeling pissy.

Then came dad and stepmonster, wanting to take Spook for a week to their house in the sticks for their church’s bible camp even though it’s not them who attend, it’s my 22 year old brother. Is it just me or is it creepy that a 22 year old wants to hang out with a 7 year old for a week?

What irked me so much was that I told stepmonster the other night Spook was not likely to attend camp because she’s been poorly behaved. Instead of talking to me one on one, they show up at the door like terrorists making a demand and feeling entitled, and they do it in front of my kid so by saying ‘you can have her a day or two but not the whole week’, I look like the monster. And in my agitation, perhaps my tone when asked for an explanation wasn’t proper, but I should not have to explain my reasons. My kid, my rules. NO MEANS NO.

Adding insult to injury, I told stepmonster that Spook is down to one pair of underwear so could she buy her a package. God knows six dollars won’t break their bank. But knowing the kid has one pair, the cow left the new underwear package at their house instead of bringing it here where it would be useful. Because either it’s punishment for me saying “this is when you can have her, no longer.” or they were keeping the underpants because they seriously thought I was going to let them keep her 8 days.

I mean, poor behavior on her part and fair warning, the birthday party debacle, and still they put me in that cornered position. I think lashing out by asserting my parental rights, minus nasty edge in my tone, was warranted.

Instead what will happen is they will go visit my mom and sis, and mom is still furious with me cos of my lice outburst during hormone week, and they will all tell their wrong side of the story and I will be the double headed serpent monster who is a danger to her child because I raise my voice to them and don’t kiss their ass. Remember, I’m 44, I know how these people operate because nothing ever changes.

Now I am even more stressed. I feel like a loser who can’t even spring 6 bucks for a pack of underpants for my kid, but then, I thought my stepmonster was doing something kind to help out. What a moron I am.

She even took it on herself to buy Spook’s school supplies THEN said I told her they had to because I couldn’t do it. What I ACTUALLY said to this crazy bitch was, “Yeah, with her birthday, school clothes, school supplies, I don’t know how I am going to afford it all.”

Is there a question anywhere in that statement? There wasn’t even a hinting tone of hopefulness that help would be offered. She just took it upon herself and now I’ve heard, in 4 days, that woman boasting that they bought her school supplies like they donated a kidney to her. Ridiculous.

Perhaps my reactions are not always in proportion but after the last time they took her for a day, then kept her for three, and she came back telling me everything stepmonster doesn’t like about me and the way I raise my kids…I am warranted in wanting to limit her contact with them.

Of course, I can never have legitimate emotions because I’m ‘mental’. They will always and forever use that card against me and foregiveness is not done in this family, just grudge holding. Is it so wrong I want my kid to respect me which isn’t going to happen when BOTH grandparents are constantly putting me down and usurping me?

I am so furious, and agitated, and sad. I just want to tell them to keep their school supplies, being in their debt is worse than oweing a fucking kneecap breaking loan shark. Kneecaps heal. The psychological shrapnel from every interaction with them simply makes my mental problems metastasize.

Funny in a pathetic way. 44 year old woman so tormented over family issues. I could cut them all off completely and lose nothing. My fear is my kid losing her grandparents and aunt and I don’t want to bear the blame of that when she gets older.

Perhaps the biggest difference between me and them is that crazy or not, I have the objectivity and good heart to want her to know her family, flaws and all. They just keep tearing me down over and over again and it’s heart breaking. Insulting. Hurtful. Disrespectful. Cruel.

So my weekend and week are pretty much shot, thanks to this recent family debacle.

Perhaps, stressed as I am, it would have been wiser and less drama to just give them their way and let them keep her all week.

I am so certain my reasons are legitimate, though, being tormented for a week or so and having them turn even my sister against me…Small price to pay for having the courage of your own convictions.

Meanwhile, thanks to their pettiness (they have tons of clothes for her at their house but won’t send any home even though they see her maybe six times a year) I look like a bad guy to my child, I went on the defensive in an effort to assert myself, and now I am scared the crazy lot will turn me in as being unfit. And if you think that’s the paranoia talking…

My parents were overheard by my sister having a conversation about me when I just got pregnant and neither of them felt I could handle the responsibility because I had failed at everything else. It’s true.

Famiy ties are strangling me.