Archive for kid’s 9th birthday

It’s All About The Birthday Girl

Posted in depression, fundraiser with tags , , , , , on July 22, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I will spare the usual rant except to say…I’m going under here battling depression, anxiety, and how deeply in debt the move and all has made me. This isn’t about me. This is about her. A sneak peak at the page to show that this time it’s different, not my babbling. I was too scatter brained to start a new page, so only $10 for Spook has been raised thus far. We are grateful for every act of kindness, every click of the share button.

Click either pic to go to the actual page to donate or share. Thanks.

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Off Kilter And The Bad Thoughts Are Knocking At The Door

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on July 21, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

As mentioned in my previous post, due to my own inadvertent screw up, I am facing another financial set back, not to mention the entire family turning against me and even dragging my daughter into it. (Seriously, this was an adult problem between me and my sister, and she dragged even my 8 year old into it, as if I wasn’t feeling shitty enough, now my kid is going to judge me. For an honest albeit stupid mistake.) I spent last night alternating between tears of self loathing and doom and nervous throwing up. It’s bad enough when you fuck up and it creates a rift between you and another person, but now the entire family knows and I am in the hot seat. I will remain there even if I by some miracle manage to juggle some expenses and correct my fuck up. It’s like a family lynch mob with me as the lynch-ee. Maybe I deserve it. Though I fail to see why my sister had to drag everyone, including my kid into it.

Today I am on edge, unfocused, freaking out, my stomach is churning. I want my kid home but either way if they bring her home or I go fetch her, I will be facing down my lynch mob. God, I want a normal family where things aren’t used as fodder to start wars within amongst us all. And dear god, if feeling like crap had a monetarily value, I could pay off bills for the entire family. It’s gotten so bad, the Bad Thoughts are lurking in the shadows, knocking on the door. Reminding me that hey, I gave it my best shot but obviously I am never going to get everything right so why bother sticking around.’

I have to reject this. I have to toughen up, deal with my mistake and the fall out, but my prior trust issues inasmuch as my sister handling it between just the two of us are metastasized. Good people don’t drag an 8 year old into adult matters this way. And my family has always done the two face back stabbery since I was a kid so this isn’t new, I just had hope as we got older, that fucked up dynamic might change. It hasn;t and once I correct my mistake…I think it’s time to go back to my minimal contact with them policy. Because even without this fuck up, I am always on some shit list they have and I am fed up. Fighting depression and anxiety are hard enough with the people who ‘love’ me making it even worse.

I am willing to sacrifice, scrimp, cut corners, even let the internet get turned off (though it’s year long contract so I’d still owe them)…I used to dodge my responsibilities and mistakes back during the manic days but I have busted my ass and my brain becoming a better person. I thought I was getting there. I was apparently wrong but I can’t let myself give up and I cannot give power to the Bad Thoughts.

While I am willing to sacrifice and scrimp…

I am praying for a few kind people to donate to Spook’s fundraiser She deserves a birthday and the necessary stuff for the start of school. So if you have a heart at all, help Spook. I’ll try to clean up my mess and keep current on the bills, but…she shouldn’t be punished cos her mom doesn’t always get it right.

Even if you can’t donate…just a share shows you care. Spook is just a little girl about to turn 9 and enter 4th grade. Her getting some clothes, supplies, and even a half decent birthday is every bit as worthy a cause as donating to some soulless political candidate or a campaign to ban plastic straws. Show her there are some decent people out there.

I am trying to be a decent person but falling a bit short. I won’t ever stop trying, though. That little girl is the light of my life and even if my family and the rest of the world deems me to be an evil spawn of satan…All that matters is that my kid keeps seeing me as ‘a good mom.” Just need a little help right now.

Survival Of The Scared Shitless

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , , , on July 20, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

Well, I had a couple of ‘decent’ days. Spook and I had a decent prepaid meal at the park the other day.
She managed to eat two cheesesticks before declaring that she was bored and it all sucked. I enjoyed it, but then, I’m used to boredome and everything sucking, I truly do appreciate the gift of a pizza Mr. M bestowed upon us. Made me feel kinda….ugh, hopeful, like perhaps I’m not a complete waste of space.

I had two days of being functional. I swept, mopped, did laundry, cleaned cat boxes…which is difficult for me as every part of me feels coated in dried concrete 24-7. I treasure the days I am in the mind frame-and body-to get shit done. I wish I felt that way more often. Some people are all too happy to give advice on what works for them and makes them a high functioning superhero but…sadly, it’s never worked that way for me.

Today seemed not so bad but then SPLAT. I learned that my sister got slapped with an old bill from our old address and it damaged her credit rating. I was paying on the bill (I thought) albeit slowly, only to learn…I was using the wrong account number and paying on a bill that belonged, well to The One Who Shall Not Be Named. I fucked up, big time, and I am humiliated and now on the family shit list and further in the hole. I will fix it, I made the mistake (however unintentional) because my sister was helping us by putting that bill in her name when we found ourselves abandoned and fucked on that front…My last wish was to do something to screw her over but…here we are. And of course, she will tell the entire family, so I will be persona non grata and maybe that’s what I deserve for being a screw up. I could make a dozen excuses and explanations and they’d all be valid, honest, and for real. It doesn’t change anything though. Until I fix it, I am gonna be on the ‘evil bitch’ shitlist with the entire family. And even then, I’ll remain there as her credit as impacted.

The level of embarrassment and shame are enormous. Worse, my kid is staying at their house tonight so who knows what venom they’re spewing to her about me. I’ll have to pick her up and face their wrath and since I am mid-curse, hormonal, and have to also face the donor in court Monday…It will be a miracle if I don’t end up on lockdown in hard restraints. I am just to that point where I have tried so damned hard and I still can’t get it right or be cool, calm, and collected…and I am not whining, I own my screw up, but my precarious mental state kind of goes without saying. In my family, “sorry” and “I will fix it” count for nothing. Everyone is out to tear everyone down. And it is infuriating because my sister has been married to “Beavis” for 20 years, he doesn’t work, doesn’t even mow the damned lawn, and she thinks the sun shines out of his ass.

He idolizes Hitler and Charles Manson, and in a way, that’s how I view him. He’s so charismatic, to a certain faction of gamers and wanna be bikers, he has people willing to pay for weekend white water rafting trips and they loan him $10,000 Harleys to drive but he can’t be bothered to help around the house, EVER, and while he can always wheel and deal for money to take care of their cats or get weed and Marlboros, he’s never given a damn if his kid had no milk for cereal or the whole house was starving. I have nursed my dislike and resentment for 20 years, trying to respect my sister and her ‘he’s my true love, no one else gets me him like I do” but…Honestly, what kind of dickbag has his son come home all proud that he made the honor roll and says, “So what, anyone can make the honor roll these days.” And pretty much EVERYONE in the family hates him, but his mom owns the house my sis and mom and nephew live in, so of course, all lips kiss the ass of the queen. Who enables Beavis to do nothing and yet my sister is constantly having to clean our dad;s house to earn money for food….

So yeah, I fucked up and I will fix it, and I feel positively like shit, but what about that fucking lump? No one holds him accountable, ever, and she preaches his awesomeness and he has a dozen friends who all but worship him but then, that’s his base, the fellow people who when fired from a job sign their final paycheck “fuck you”. So I wouldn’t want to really be accepted in that crowd because, well, douchebaggery isn’t cool even if it is prevalent. So’s Katy Perry and Lady Gaga on the radio, doesn’t make it right or mean I have to endure it.

I’m sure it all sounds too stupid to be true and I just sound bitter cos I fucked up and now I have to own it, but I was feeling this way long before today. Beavis dared to say something about how I don’t take good care of my cats since we had to rehome some of them due to the move and my brain about popped out of my skull. Those cats went to live on like ten acres of farm land where they are fed and watered twice a day and have tons of room to roam and catch mice. I didn’t rehome them out of choice but at least I had the decency to make sure they went to a good place where they’d be cared for. The man has homed several strays I found over the years and they’re all healthy and plump. So to have that p.o.s who doesn’t do a damned thing but play video games all night and piss into empty soda bottles kind of sent over the edge. I’m not making him a caricature like some Mike Judge cartoon, he really is just that….awful. And I hate feeling that way because I love my sister and I don’t want it to come between us, we’ve always been pretty close and on cool footing. But I can’t help but feel the way I do and I’ve felt that way for 20 years. My turning point was when they were doing meth and he actually took her dentures, put them in the toilet and pissed on them. Maybe she can forgive that shit, but man, I’d probably be in prison if he’d done that to me cos I’d have bashed his head against the toilet.

BREATHE.

I’ve never given my blog link to anyone I know in person because years ago, I made that mistake and my sister read some of my thoughts on our fucked up family and she was very hurt and didn’t speak to me for awhile. I don’t want that but bottling it up is poisoning me. Besides…her and mom were pretty smug about knowing from the get that the donor was a fake who would walk out on me and Spook. They have their judgments, same as me. Difference is, I admitted they were right when they were proven right. I’ve been proven right a hundred times about Beavis but I end up being the villain. So much for self awareness and objectivity. I don’t need to be loved that much that I would put up with that shit. If a guy wants to be a house husband and stay home to do housework and child care while the woman works to make money, cool. But a guy who makes the woman work and take care of the kid and take care of the house while he plays video games and rides motorcycles with his wanna be MC…Just writing it makes me need to vomit.

Anyway…Before this all happened…I was having mega anxiety attacks because I realized…OMFG, Spook’s 9th birthday is August 7th. Plus she needs some school clothes plus school supplies…and I can’t do it all and keep the bills paid and now I have this new thing on me….So survival of the fittest and the scared shitless. YEP, another fundraiser. But this one….Just check it out, it’s short and sweet and based on Spook’s own words. I get bogged down with her defiance and anger but the other day when her little friend was here and acting up, she tried to calm him and said, “Listen to my mom. She’s a good mom.”

It’s those little moments you live for, but if I want to keep the power on, it’s not going to get her a Minecraft cake. This one matters a lot, guys, it’s for a little girl who never asked for any of this. She just wants to have a happy birthday and go to school wearing clothes without stains and holes. With all the mindless political fundraisers going on out there..surely a 9 year old girl is worth a $5 donation. Not for me. For Spook.

Pretty please with pegacorn vomit and unicorn farts on top?