Savage Wednesday

Why savage? Had a neighbor kid knocking on my door at 7:50 a.m. wanting to play with Spook. That kid was here yesterday at 9:15 a.m. and I thought, are these parents savages, letting these kids run from morning til well after dark? I swear I don’t have a stick in my ass, I am not *that* uptight, proper proper parent. Just…decorum. Surely manners aren’t a thing of the past? Am I really so old I’ve acquired a stick up my ass? Just..MANNERS. You don’t come knocking before ten a.m., you don’t come knocking after dark. Just the other day one of those kids was out at 9:30 at night wanting Spook to play. And of course, with my follower mentality child, she plays the “other kids get to” card constantly and nothing I say to these kids or their parents makes a difference. My idget dad says, “Get out of the trailer park”, as if that solves all. Because only shitty parents and kids live in a trailer park? What are you saying about me and your granddaughter here, daddy dearest? Idget.

I found myself in a slump last night after a day of refererring my kid’s drama with her ‘friends’, always crying about them being rude but going back for more. She complains about being bullied then seeks out the very kids ‘bullying her’. Talk about unclear on a concept. Personally, back when I was actually being bullied and spit on, I went out of my way to avoid those assholes, not seek them out for more abuse. Then again, I was never a follower and I was content to do my own thing alone. My kid…Nope. Last night I just kinda snapped and found myself raising my voice because she simply would not listen, she kept screaming at me for making her come in at 7:45 p.m., then she waited til I was in the shower and demanded to be fed, then I told her to get in the shower cos she was filthy and that instigated another scene (bathing this child has been a fight from the word go)…I realized I’d been 12 hours without a Xanax, that is usually when I start snapping and letting her get to me, so I took my night dose and chilled.

Then came the guilt for raising my voice (yeah, cos that’s absolutely the worst a parent can do) and compounding it was having watched Terminator 2 over the weekend and hearing Linda Hamilton’s character talk about how the Terminator would never shout at her son…Geeze, I’m worse than a killing machine??? That is how scumbag brain operates, though, magnifying every graceless parental moment I have yet giving me zero credit when I get it right. That’s what societal programming does, it makes you feel like shit for mistakes, has zero forgiveness, and gives zero credit.

So…After last night’s slump, I went to bed before ten p.m. and thought between Xanax and melatonin,it’d keep me down. Ha. I woke four times, every time wondering if my money would come through so I could get some smokes. (Yeah, yeah, fucked up priorities, shitty mom) but also nagging was not having a phone. For MY convenience, mind you, not anyone else’s. Having a phone is pretty important when you have a child, especially with school starting. And since Safelink replaced my old phones twice they wouldn’t replace another (only one of those was my fault, my mom broke the other one when I loaned it to her and she jammed the charger in wrong and broke the port) so I had to cough up the money…It weighs heavy. I woke again at six and held my breath while checking my balance on line. And Yay. Money. I was gonna go back to sleep but scumbag brain was having none of it. Woke my kid at six thirty and out we went.

Gas in the car, breakfast for her, smokes for me, and a trip to Hell-Mart. I resentfully bought vaccum belts and bags and the pricey herbal lice treatment because damn it, if she’s gonna be at that pony party this weekend I wanna make sure I have covered all my bases and this stuff kills lice and eggs so all I have to do is comb her out…Then came the pain of a new phone (thirty bucks is hardly an iphone but, still, money I don’t have to spare) and I got her a few birthday thingies she picked out plus two new outfits for school…For once I didn’t have a meltdown at Wal-mart, but at 7 a.m., it’s kind of a ghost town and I like that.

Then we came home and in went lice spray and the laundry mill started again. I need to fix the vacuum and do that, in addition to swatting away the neighbor kids who, even when told by an adult, “she can’t play until this afternoon”, keep coming around…GRR. Stupid people irk me. And I am sorry if that offends, but really. Even children can grasp the word ‘no’ even if they don’t like it. It amazes me how every man I have every been with finds me this terrifying emasculating bitch beast and yet children don’t fear me enough to respect me, at all. I may as well have “welcome mat” printed on my head for all they pay attention to me. Then again, I am terrified to be too stern because then the brawler parents get involved and panic disorder does not allow for confrontation, let alone neighbor wars. Already have two kids banned from playing with Spook and frankly, I’d feel bad but it’s those damn devil girls and them being out of our lives is a relief, not a punishment for me. Not like they treat Spook any better than the others, either, she was always fighting with them, too. Am I awful being relieved they’re banned from playing with my kid?

Maybe I should get a Terminator to be a nanny and referee. If only.

So..laundry Mt Olympus, wait for the phone to charge so I can get it all transferred, do some math to figure out how to pay for everything when the money simply isn’t there, and maybe at some point scumbag brain will chillax and allow me a moment of peace. Hypomanic bouts aren’t always great when the mania is spinning thoughts as opposed to physical energy and getting things done.

Mania is such a misnomer for hypo episodes. More like “mental go round”, cos my mind keeps spinning round and round and I can’t get off the fucking ride.


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