Archive for December, 2018

Buh-bye, 2018

Posted in depression with tags , , , , on December 31, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Rough night with the sleep and wake cycle. BAD dreams, like the kind so morbid you don’t even speak them aloud yet they cause you to become so distressed you have to do a doubletake and make sure it actually was just a terrifying dream…Problem with that doubletake is that I had to get up, check out the house, use the bathroom, drink some water…and that set the stage for being awake from 1 til 4:30 a.m., almost too scared to go back to sleep lest another nightmare wallop me.

Final day of what has been the WORST year of our lives, thank you for having mercy, sacred pegacorn. It is also the one year anniversary tomorrow of the family member’s suicide so the entire vibe is low and very sad. He’s the 4th person I’ve known who was killed by depression. Oh, suicide lets society off the hook by making it someone else’s fault as opposed to facing the truth-depression kills. You get to that dark place and the more you try to claw your way out, the deeper in you get. It’s quicksand of the mind.

I am still railing from my sister and her husband’s scam suggestion to claim my kid as their dependent and split the refund with me. I don’t know why I find it so offensive and abhorrent, it’s not like I am a goody two shoes. Sometimes, I drive half a mile to the gas station without wearing my seatbelt! But there’s law bending and then there’s downright fraud, and it bothers me they broached the subject. Trying to take advantage of my kid and our financial desperation to benefit themselves every bit as much as it might benefit us. I don’t need money bad enough to risk prison time. And I am fairly certain claiming dependents who don’t live with you, legally aren’t tied to you, and you technically don’t support a dime to their upbringing is fraudulent.Maybe millions of people, including their buddy who gave them the idea, gets away with it. I’m not on board. I’m actually still reeling that this friend of theirs, who has NOTHING to do with me, is even concerned with whether someone claims my child as a tax deduction. That isn’t normal for family let alone non family to ask. Or I guess I am hormonal and depressed and high strung and overreacting, as my dad said.

Zero fucks are given, however. She is MY child, not someone else’s way to score easy cash. And if all anyone can think is, “What a waste of a good tax deduction and refund”, man, get the fuck away from me because we are not gonna be friends.

My kid wants pizza and stuff for New Year’s Eve. It’s cold and raining and I have cramps and just want this day to be over with. In a pleasant way, of course, but I am so ready to close the books on 2018. Not that 2019 is looking any better but it was a year of hellish changes and loss that just really took it out of me. I suppose I shall bake a frozen pizza and watch something on Vudu with her as means of celebrating but my heart ain’t in it. Last year, she was mad and said I never let her stay up to see the ball drop so I said, hey, stay up…and she was whining and begging for tuck in by 9 pm. I don’t see this year being any different but she could surprise me. Last year, I didn’t even stay awake for the stroke of midnight. I thought staying home with my kid, not drinking in spite of being asked to party at my sister’s (her friends were busy, otherwise I am never included), I was trying to close the year out on a positive note…

Except I had no crystal ball and couldn’t know all the deception playing out behind the scenes with the old landlord basically selling our home out from under us all the while denying he was doing so when I heard rumors and asked. Then came the family suicide. Then the move and death of our uncle, the car completely needing replaced, string after string of meds that didn’t work or had awful side effects…the donor was paying support, then he wasn’t, then he was, now he hasn’t in 5 months and my lawyer is telling me I still have to give him his visitation rights (and I don’t believe I do since ass trash won’t answer calls or sign off on the court ordered paperwork so without it filed and no support being paid…I don’t think I can be bullied legally. Morally, maybe, but…I have PMS and a staple gun so back the fuck off.) It just feels like everything changed and I am being told it is for the better but I don’t agree, it’s a shiny gold turd but it’s still a stinky turd. Of course, I feel guilty for not having the proper gratitude for at least having a gold covered turd of a home in an Armpit of a town…

I just gotta get through the next couple of days and all the dark thoughts, then stay afloat til April when the seasonal affective should break…It’s all a game of survival, except if I lose this game, I am deemed unfit to mother my child and get tossed into the street or looney bin while my plotting family (who means well but, um NO) is waiting to take the tax deduction off my hands…Oh, I know, I sound crazy. I kind of wish I was all crazy instead of simply factoring in facts about my family and their motives and opinions of me.

Now…wrapping up the 2018 rap. And yeah, we’re still raising funds, this time to stay afloat and cover legal fees, so feel free to be a decent human being, click and give us a share or whatever.

Need An Escape From Suck-A-Traz

Posted in depression with tags , , , , on December 30, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Life has started feeling like a prison. I need OUT. Never has it become so clear than this week when my sister and her husband proposed a 50/50 cash split if I allowed them to claim my child on their taxes. Never mind we’ve never lived with them, don’t share a zip code, and legally they don’t have rights or do anything to support her but buy her gits and take out food. A (known scam artist) friend of theirs has two sisters with six kids between them and drug problems so I guess he claims their kids and gets a buttload of refund so now it’s got my sis and her husband seeing dollar signs.

God, it makes me feel filthy and sleazy just discussing that it was broached. I’ve learned to tolerate a lot of not good change in my sister since she got married to this faction of scam artist biker but…I never in a million years thought she’d have the balls, or indecency, to ask, even on his behalf, if my child could be used as part of a scam to get some cash. They overestimate my desperation for money because while I’m a bit rebellious, I am not that damned shady and skanky. Would be one thing if we had ever lived a day under the same roof as them and they’d contributed to our bills but that has never happened. Ever. At least having a fundraiser I am being transparent about the need to do so and giving people the option to donate or not. And no one is looking at my kid like an unclaimed pile of cash. That feels less sleazy to me, but by saying no, I’ve created a rift not necessarily with my sis but her hubby and she was bright enough to let it go when I said absolutely not…I get the feeling it ain’t over yet. He will beat a dead horse scam endlessly cos it’s what scammers and con artists do. Think I liked him better when he wasn’t working and money grubbing, least then he saw my child as a person, not dollar signs.

Their logic of “so and so does it but he doesn’t share the money with his sisters, at least we are offering you half” makes my skin crawl. Anything that scammer family is up to, I want no part of. And that my sister by marriage got sucked into this state of thinking disgusts me. Just because some people do it and get away with it doesn’t make it legal, moral, or even an indecent proposal, it’s just fucking shady and greedy. Not to mention the IRS and their statute of limitations are endless so if this guy is working a dual scam with both of his sisters and their kids while not actually supporting them…NOPE. We need money but not desperately enough to risk legal murkiness. I just….can’t believe my sister went there, I’d always held her above trying to get me in on any of that group’s scams. My dad said I was overreacting, but it definitely is shady and not likely legal. I guess when someone you hold in high regard sinks to a low you never saw coming, it can lead to strong feelings others call overreaction.

I was so glad when they brought her home. I’m to the point where I don’t like her being there because the brother in law and his crew are mega gun enthusiasts and Spook’s first statement to overhearing this whole tax scam was, “If you tell them no, what if uncle (x) blows your brains out?” I’ve never said anything disparaging of that nature so…she knows he has a bad temper and could be a threat. Kids have a sixth sense. Her being around all those guns makes me so uncomfortable, I don’t care how many locks and safeguards there are. Guns don’t kill people, people kill people, and potsmoking Hitler fans are the most dangerous weapon of all. (Yes, he also worships Charles Manson, but the state still gives him a firearm owner card.) And my kid likes him cos he makes fart noises that make her laugh so that puts me in this suckage place of trying to limit her exposure to that environment without her or them getting mad at me…It’s very stressful.

I must sound like I am losing my marbles and gone all paranoid and stuff but…Back in the day, my sis and brother in law made meth in their basement, so even if they have become gainfully employed, socially upstanding citizens now…That corruption is always lurking in the background. Maybe if I’d stayed more paranoid I’d have been less pulverized by my sister’s scam proposal. (And I am sorry, but I put every cent into raising her, so if they truly wanted to help us it wouldn’t be them getting half, SCAM.) I know they probably meant well. Oh, man, I need to believe they meant well but my gut says otherwise.

The depression and bad thoughts, though, plus hormones, mean I’m not real solid on my own thoughts. Yesterday I was having some serious ‘hey maybe there’s a gas leak from the stove or furnace and I will finally get to die’ thoughts. Spook wasn’t here and while I have been bolstering my sagging spirits by binge watching sitcoms…I was in a dark place after the whole tax scam thing. Oh, and I finally got the useless lawyer to return my call and he had the audacity to say, “Well your daughter has a few days of Christmas break left, maybe he (the donor) can see her for those days.”

Oh hell to the fucking NO am I telling my 9 year old, “Here, you have to go spend the night with this perfect stranger who hasn’t tried to see you once in 7 years because the lawyer and judge suck.” It’s not psychologically healthy for her to be foisted into a situation with a man she doesn’t know cos contrary to popular belief….simply sharing half your genetic code with someone does not make you bond instantly. This is supposed to be MY lawyer, looking out for me and Spook, and he spent the call talking about how he hoped he could finally get the donor on the phone and get him visiting Spook so he wouldn’t have to go to the judge and file contempt charges against him…

Is there anyone in my physical vicinity NOT trying to screw me over in some way?

On top of all that, New Year’s Day will be the first year anniversary since the family member hung himself in the basement of the house where my mom and sis still live. I didn’t know him well, but man, I knew his plight with the depression and feeling useless and just…reaching the breaking point. I’ve lost 4 others to depression, even if legally they call it suicide. Makes my current mental state a really scary place to be, having thoughts of dying due to a gas leak, but…I’ve seen what his suicide did to the people left behind and…I could never do that to a 9 year old girl. I could never send her the message that my misery trumps my love and devotion for her. Can’t. Won’t.

I’m just at wit’s end here and honestly I think moving far away from the whole lot of ‘loving’ family members might be the only thing to keep my sanity. Unfortunately, it requires money and oh a place to go, and ya know one of the worst symptoms of depression? Indecisiveness. I can’t decide what I want to eat, let alone think of a place where we could move that would be more mentally healthy for us. I got nothing. Just anywhere far enough from my family that I will miss them but not be close enough for them to drag me under with their scams and judgements.

Ok. Sigh. Breathe. Had to rant, get it all out, before it consumed me.

Back to American Housewife. It makes me laugh. The mom is way too cheerful for my tastes but she also has a bit of mean streak I admire. And anything is better than thinking about the shit going on in my life.

Holiday Rap and Wrap Up

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , on December 27, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

It is cold and windy and wet today so my mood is in the gutter. Good news, we’ve got six straight days of this shit coming so I am sure to improve. NOT.

First off, my daughter received a couple of items today from Amazon-but there was no card attached so we don’t know who sent them. Whoever you are, thank you very much, you made a little girl happy…for half an hour. I’ll take what I can get because it’s only been 6 days and the “I’m bored” monster is grating on my nerves.

We had an okay Christmas Eve. My mom got in her digs, as usual. There were more people unrelated to us than related to us present. It was loud and wreaked havoc on my nerves. We did it mid afternoon cos I had expressed my poor night vision and driving home after dark being a stressor…And still, we were there til after dark. Because they spent $80 on pizzas but some people wanted it from a chain, others insist it come from a local parlor that didn’t even open til 4 p.m. I stayed away from the melee for the most part, but I TRIED to feign happiness. Sometimes the only way to do that is do silly shit that makes people think I am drunk or off my meds. While she was on the phone with the pharmacy and getting frustrated with their electronic menu not accepting her answers, I just thought of all the times I was on automated calls and it got all Fubar cos my kid had to speak up and send the menu back to go…So I loudly and slowly said at the prompt (mom keeps it so loud, I could hear it) BUY A BONG. And oddly, it caused much laughter.

So every time I felt low or anxious I just mumbled BUY A BONG. Frankly, had I not watched the entire series WEEDS twice, I wouldn’t really know what a bong is. I grew up on Cheech and Chong and never really grasped all the paraphernalia, it was just funny watching these two dumb asses. I’ve inhaled, but haven’t touched the stuff in almost 10 years. Just not my thing. But watching stuff like Harold and Kumar and Half Baked…Stoners are funny, they make me laugh. And make me grateful they don’t live with me. So, yeah, buy a bong, got me through the day/evening.

Spook got a buttload of expensive electronics but spent more time playing with the cheapo slime than she did anything. I was happy cos I got exactly what I asked for. I was hugging my new speakers in the box and petting them and saying, “My precious…” Hey, they are awesome speakers and my family heard me for a change, so it was super special.

(They bought her a $50 blue tooth lights show speaker and she has spent like, five minutes with it, buying her expensive stuff is just idiotic.)
She’s like her mama, embracing fun cheap stuff. She even gifted me with these, a blast from my childhood past.

Us on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Day we didn’t go anywhere so we didn’t glam it up.

I managed to wash all my dishes and cooked us chicken and noodles with potatoes and gravy. While she got pissy that her tablet needs charged every 3 hours and it takes forever and she’s bored and it is all my fault….blah. But it was a good day. Bonus, I made her answer the phone when my dad called, cos I was ha ha ha, TRYING to assemble this LED scooter thingie my sister got her but I take shit apart, I don’t put it together.

All in all…it was a great Christmas in spite of all that has been working against us.

Spook and I are truly grateful to everyone who helped us keep our heat turned on and cats fed and made sure we had a decent Christmas. You guys are the best and we love you. ❤

Brrr, I have mega chills and even with socks my feet are cold. I have the heat cranked to 75, which I absolutely cannot afford but I'm so cold. And sadly it's 51 outside but with no sun and the cold rain, it just feels arctic to me. Spook is wearing short sleeves so apparently I just run cold. I look forward to curling up on my nice sheets (thanks again, Shanna), with my blankies, and winding down with my weeknight ritual of MASH and Frasier. Yes, I am a wild woman. But after all the chaos over the last few weeks, it's very therapeutic to just breathe and snuggle under the covers. I slept last night off and on til 10 a.m. cos my kid spent the night at her cousin's. I can't remember the last time I slept that late. But obviously my body needed the rest. I'm gonna be greedy and hope for another night of decent sleep.

If you're bored, check out this rant.
I just had to spout off after some soccer mom on TV said “I’m a grown ass woman, I am not dude.”
I call everyone dude…and this dude abides.
(Big Lebowski anyone?)

Oh, and cos I can…Spook was given this dress as a 15 year old had outgrown it so she wore it with her tiara and we had a princess party.Either the 15 year old girl is a stick figure or my 9 year old is growing way too fast, she says the bodice is too snug. If she fills out chest wise, she might tip over, poor kid.

She is always asking if I think she is pretty and I think she is beautiful. I just hope some day she feels that way about herself. I’m not wearing mom goggles, either. She is a very beautiful girl. Kids being the cruel monsters they are, though, they’ve made her feel like she’s not pretty and I hope they all get chunky, wear glasses, get mega zits, and are lonely and unpopular. And also, lose their electronic devices and wifi access. What can I say…Mama’s got a mean streak when her princess (buttmunch that she is) gets her feelings hurt by mean children.

Though I probably hurt her feelings the most because I say no to running with scissors or playing with fire or laying out in the road. I’ma bummer that way, poor kid, having such a momster.

Have Yourself A Scary Little Cryptmas-video version

Posted in depression, holidays, mental health with tags , , , , , on December 27, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Mourge+Spook = Spookticia…mommy daughter Christmas Day awkwardness,

Twisted Up Inside

Posted in anxiety disorders with tags , , , , , , , on December 24, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

T minus 7 hours and counting til we’re due at my mom/sister faction for the holiday spectacle. Spook is super excited cos, hey, kid, gifts, sweets. I am uber nervous and filled with dread. Thanksgiving saw everyone sniping at each other and my mom going off on me about how I am an ogre for insisting my kid eat a meal before a whole pie…

Who knows what tonight will bring. Topping it off are my sinus pressure fucking with my ears and I have cramps and the whole pms shebang. I don’t know what to expect except feeling like shit because they got to be the cool people who bought all the gifts. Though last I heard they needed someone to buy food so we could have a meal tonight which is indicative of their priorities. I made sure my kid has food, the cats are taken care of (our fosters finally went to their new home with an old farmer and his wife), the heat bill is paid in full, car insurance is current, we have laundry, bath, toilet paper, dish soap, all those little things that add up but you kind of need. Car has plenty of gas. So I’m not hulking out on the santa thing, not that I ever really do. Not since mom and sis make it a competition no one else can win. Mainly because the one thing I have in common with my dad’s faction is that we take care of the necessities first, frivolity second, thus we’re ‘assholes’ to the other faction.

I just want it over with and not simply to be humbug or whatever. I really don’t feel well and I really don’t feel like I have a grip over my emotions which is not a good state to engage with family during. So my insides twist and contort and time passes so slowly when I just want it over with so I can have some semblance of sanity back. I’ve felt like everything has been put on hold, waiting for this nightmare to end, and not even bullying myself into ‘just get it done and you will feel much better’ has accomplished nothing. I just gotta ride out this holiday depression and be grateful for what we have and not focus on what we don’t have. (But if I don’t get the speakers I wanted, THE SAME ONES, I will forever know my family does not listen to me nor give a shit about how I feel…so much was lost and changed this year, I just need this ONE old familiar thing back to make me feel less of a sense of loss, insane as it sounds.)

Knowing them, though, they either got a different brand cos it was cheaper or they talked to the ‘gamers’ in the family who insisted I need some ridiculously overpriced set up that I will loathe. It’s supposed to be the thought that counts but when your family still can’t give you the right kind of chocolate after 40 years, it becomes clear you’re not who they are thinking of, they’re just saying ‘this is who we think you are’.

I sound like a selfish bratty bitch. Yeah, well, the ovary oompa loompas aren’t playing nice and I am in pain, not to mention feeling like an emotional powder keg about to blow. Only one thing to do.

THIS song cheers me up every damn time I play it-and I play it, and sing it, a lot, even during non holiday months. Corey Taylor’s fucking awesome.

And yes, my kid knows the words to this song, cos I am also fucking awesome. 🙂

Trying To Reason With Clinical Depression

Posted in depression with tags , , , , , on December 24, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Meager as things have been around here the last few months I am always pointing out, to myself, the things we have over the things we do not have. While logically this makes sense and is the right thing to do…

Depression cannot be reasoned with.

If your mind is clouded with darkness then no amount of shiny happy stuff is going to remove the clouds. At best, you might get a day or two with fewer or lighter colored clouds, but that darkness that is depression settles into your bones and it stays until it is damn good and ready to leave. For those of us battling the double whammy of bipolar depression and seasonal depression…It’s a bitter pill to swallow, accepting that feeling shitty is just the way it is til the seasons change and hey, be grateful the meds are at least keeping you functional enough to care for your child.

I have so much gratitude for the things we do have. So much gratitude for the help kind people have extended to us. So thankful for k Godsmind words and encouraging comments. I treasure these things like you wouldn’t know.

Because, maybe, the depression causes me to ramble on endlessly about how everything sucks and it makes me seem like an ungrayeful grumpy bitchbeast.

It’s very disheartening to know that simply being honest about how you are feeling can lead to so much shame, remorse, anger, sadness, embarrassment, and giving others the wrong impression. (It’s alarming how few people can truly grasp the severity of depression and how it negatively colors your every thought and feeling and perception.)

I am, especially at this time of year, confronted with stories about wounded soldiers, kids with cancer, kids who can’t get enough food and are perpetually hungry, kids who live in a shelter with a parent due to job loss or whatever…My God, it’s heartbreaking and discouraging on so many levels. And I berate myself, thinking only a selfish monster could take for granted a healthy child, a roof overhead, food in our bellies, and a group of friends who cared enough to toss us a lifeline or two. Only a monster would let depression overwhelm having so much to be thankful for, right?

I’m not a monster, though. I am not without gratitude. I do not lack self awareness. I am not lazy or shiftless. I am not completely selfish. I am not overcome with rage or anger at all times. I TRY finding the little things, like letting my cat Godsmack decimate an LED car on Spook’s Magic Tracks course.

Depression, however, does not hear reason, does not comprehend logic, does not care if it causes you to behave like a sullen bratty beast. It also does not care if it causes you to retreat into yourself to the point everyone just starts leaving you alone. Except the people you wish would leave you alone, they see you’re down and out and have to kick you some more. (Dad was already on me about my lawn today and needing raked and it’s like, dude, we’re 2 days into fucking winter and you’re not the landlord, get off my back.) I have been trying to fight against self isolation to an unhealthy extreme, but at the same time, I know when I am in this low mind frame that inevitably it comes out in my interactions and I alienate people so alone seems lesser evil.

My kid is super excited for tomorrow night as our family does the whole get together shebang on Christmas Eve at mom and sister’s house. It’s usually a fucking circus including people not related to us and of course, I couldn’t even afford to get my kid’s school pictures to hand out with a cheapo card so I have nothing to give anyone. And they always say, don’t worry about it, we understand, but you know they actually don’t. I just want it over with. I am never comfortable there with that massive crowd and all the ‘look at how much money we spent, we love Spook more than you do”.

And ya know the saddest part, it’s not limited to me and Spook and the deadbeat not paying support. I signed her up for Angel Tree and encountered like six people I knew who’d also had no choice but to sign up and some of them even work, but can only get part time at minimum wage so they still need help…I’ve only signed her up once before for the charity thing, that was the year he walked out on us, so it was quite humbling to have to do it again 7 years later SIMPLY BECAUSE THE LAW WON’T HOLD THIS CHRONIC DEADBEAT ACCOUNTABLE TO HIS CHILD. I mean, not even a card mailed to her or a message relayed through the lawyer. Nothing. But he sells the story about how awful I am. You gotta wonder if that is true, how have I been fit to raise our child alone for 7 years? Oh, his other two kids and their ‘vessels’ as he called the mothers, crazy bitches who just wanted his money but sane enough to raise his kids by ourselves. He negates his own argument but delusion doesn’t know reason any more than depression does.

I know I did what I had to do for my daughter so we could have a couple gifts under the tree for her and a decent meal on Christmas Day but this is not a part of me that doesn’t feel lousy about it. I have a court order for child support and he just keeps bouncing jobs and shirking responsibility, which I figured he would do but my idget dad and R and Mrs R convinced me to pursue the matter in court and force the donor to pay for something. That has been more instability on us than having no support at all. And what kind of piece of crap father goes 7 years without seeing his kid, sending her a gift, or making sure she at least has something for Christmas? There are parents out there even worse off than us and signing my kid up for the programs made me think there were kids being denied so mine could be included and for what? Because the state is too damn lazy to chase down this chronic deadbeat and make him do the right thing. And adding insult to injury is that my dad now denies how hard he pushed me to go after the donor for support, saying instead that I am foolish thinking I will ever get what is due to Spook out of the man cos he knows how to work the system and avoid responsibility. It’s really not an attractive quality for a man who turned, oh, 56 TODAY. Hard to forget someone with a birthday so close to Christmas who went on ad nauseum about how he hated his birthday cos he never got two gifts, people just combined his birthday and Christmas gifts together….

One of the happiest dreams I’ve had as of late was the one where I found out he was actually in jail. Except they showed me a pic of him with his bad chopped off hair, wearing bright orange, and he’s smiling, and even in my dream I was thinking, how does this fucker keep smiling and live with himself????? My other favorite dream involved a shoot out and me being attacked by a rottweiller but I woke before I found out if the dog won or if I did.

I think after we survive tomorrow night (driving after dark, argh, terrifying, I don’t do these interstate merge things well even during the day, it’s got bad juju all over it) maybe I will feel less…oppressed. Not cured of my depression but the anxiety and dread part will be over with. Except undoubtedly dad and them will want to steal my kid on Christmas day thus breaking our tradition. I don’t like my delicate balancing act to be upset. By Wednesday all this crap will be done and I can celebrate in the form of…maybe sleeping 6 solid hours…Maybe not obsessing every hour of the day about how much longer til I can finally go to sleep and bring on the flying bullets and Rottweillers…

It’s all just too much at the moment and I don’t know what family drama is coming but I know my mom and sis spent enough on Christmas for my kid that I might just vomit. Because they spent all the money on gifts they’re trying to find someone willing to pay for us to at least eat pizzas and this year, I have vowed to do nothing to aid this insane process. My kid and I, as our gift from dad, got about 15 pounds of pork from a pig that he and his brother went halfsies on to slaughter. Yes, we like pork, we appreciate food, but ffs, you couldn’t spring a buck to wrap your grandkid a container of slime? That sounds bitchy. Hmm…No, I think it just points out the vast differences between parental factions.

So…as usual, I went way off course but bottom line…

You cannot reason with depression or apply logic. You feel how you feel and you just gotta put up what fight you have left in you and accept that this darkness might just be your new normal for awhile. Also, you can’t berate and bully someone out of clinical depression and the ignorant idgets who try…make me want to take a rusty Z Whacker to their skulls. (P.S., after 5 seasons, Z Nation has been canceled, you suck, Syfy!)

All I know is I bathed today and that was a small but important victory. And I put up with my dad’s 10 minute berating on the state of my lawn without bursting into tears or busting him in the throat.

You take your victories, big or small, and you hold onto them tightly as you can. Times like this, it’s all you have to hold onto.

Spamtasma

Posted in depression with tags , , , on December 23, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I think the wordpress Spam filter went on holiday vacation early because I got five ‘comments’ pending approval during the night and they were all obviously spammy gibberish yet…Meh, I can’t blame even technology for checking out early for the holidays. Still annoying, though.

I forgot to take my script antihistamine for two days and now I am drowning in sinus drainage, it’s bloody sexy as hell. On top of that, my kid woke me before 7 a.m.and that’s ass trash on Sunday. I couldn’t get back to sleep, though, despite being up from 1 a.m. to 4 a.m. I am thinking-hoping-that once this helliday madness is done, I will regain some semblance of normal sleep patterns. Not that I slept normally during the summer but it was better than it’s been the last month or so. I am just super stressed at the prospect of spending time with my family. All they do is criticize me and make me feel shitty about myself all the while smiling and pretending to be so loving. Yeah, right. One thing about growing up with a backstabbing family, you’re not shocked to find out it’s the way of the world for the most part. I guess it just stings more because family is supposed to be loving and supportive.

I think that’s why I’ve gotten so sucked into watching The Goldbergs. They’re the family I wish I had. Parents who don’t hate each other, siblings who torture each other yet have a loving loyal bond, and that sense of child like wonder being kept alive…I want that for my kid. I can’t give her fancy stuff. I won’t wear the ugly sweaters though occasionally when it’s too warm during summer I do sit in my underwear…I can’t make my sister prefer my company over that of her drinking buddies. And I can’t make my redneck brother stop making racist sexist comments only found cute by him and our dad…And most of all, I can’t make her father come home and wouldn’t want to cos reiterating, parents who hate each other is just toxic even to grown children.

But I can try to keep the child like wonder alive, like when we watch Weird Al videos together or enjoy Beakman’s World on weekends. I can make funny noises, pretending that her hair critters bit me when brushing her hair out. I can TRY to have humor even when everything really feels bleak. I can try to be more loving to her than my parents ever were to me. I can TRY to make her childhood less sucky.

The worst part of all of it has been…Spook simply doesn’t like it here in Armpit. I never saw it coming, because she’s always been such a friendly, happy kid and change excites her as much as it scares her, so I thought she’d come around. It’s been 9 months and she still does not like living here. I thought maybe I’d colored her view of the place but she isn’t a dumb kid, she knows that we really don’t fit in here, no matter how much we may want to. We’re rock and roll and this is strictly rural country territory. I wish it wasn’t like that, but for all the charm small towns have…they have very closed minds, too. So my previously popular straight A girl now struggles to get C’s and says she only has 3 friends in the whole school. How is that not supposed to break my heart? I was willing to suck it up for myself because I do have a car so I can come and go if gas is affordable but thing is…I no longer like going out. A trip to town has become super stressful, I can’t remember the things i Need even with a list, and the traffic makes me homicidal. Living in Armpit has sent me back to my agoraphobic tendencies and I don’t like it yet what am I gonna do? I can’t afford to move again, and I don’t have the strength, anyway.

I am tapped out. But I am still tryng to be here for her and not be a total bummer. I let her little friend play Friday and gave them both coloring books and crayons and candy canes. I am making the effort. Even if I feel defeated and beaten down. I could take living here IF my child was happy living here. But since she’s so unhappy here, it makes it difficult for me to not want to leave it all behind. My fear for her is that she thinks simply moving back to town will revive our old life and it just won’t, she was going to end up having to change schools there this year anyway after redistricting. For me the true appeal of moving back to town would be the necessity of that safe buffer of mileage between me and my dad’s faction. I have no illusion that there’d be any other benefits aside from maybe finding a cheaper place (though it would likely be smaller and I can’t see downgrading to a one bedroom in town to save $50, least here we have space). I just…honestly thought that I’d be the one who had trouble adapting. It took me a few months but I have accepted this fate-for now. Knowing how unhappy she is here, though, makes me unhappy.

I said in my last post I’d try to write something uplifting or whatever before the holiday but since that’s not looking good…Have a video of my kid and her friend’s Magic Tracks set up and my cat Godsmack making a little LED car her bitch.

(The mom is having as much fun with those as the kid, thanks, Patty!!!)