I’m sorry, I suck

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Right now I mostly suck. I’m sorry your not really getting the kind of blog I promised but I hope maybe for some, you at least feel less alone. Or less crazy. Maybe it’s like Hoarders and my crazy makes your crazy look not so bad. If so, I’m really glad I could help. If not…

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And if that isn’t good enough for you, take it up with my boss 🙂

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Down in flames

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Getting to the “After” is proving to be even harder then expected. Every time I get on track and relax just a little bit, BAM, down in fucking flames. I can literally not think of anything that is ok in my life right now. Nothing. Not my health, my relationships, my kids, money, my house. Nothing.

So…

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Exactly! Not effective at all. Bootstraps my ass. Back to basics I guess.

STEP 1 Spiritual Connection. I always feel better and do better when I’m working with the Universe.

STEP 2 Find order in the chaos. Order brings calm.

STEP 3 Feel the flow and go with it. I do better when I trust my gut and go with it.

STEP 4 My body doesn’t fight me unless I keep throwing punches. Stop beating the shit outta myself. Remember, I’m a wuss.

STEP 5 Be Selfish. Self care is super important no matter what guilt tells you. Tell guilt to STFU!

That’s it. Start with those 5 things and keep moving forward. I can do this. Bootstraps or no bootstraps. But…

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I’m just so PISSED, pun intended!

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I am not a mean horrible Mom. I do not berate my 10 year old Middle Minion about the fact that she can’t stay dry at night. She is a mega deep sleeper and she has ADHD and stress, so I will do all I can to help and not get mad. She wears a pull up to bed because she will not wake up, even in underwear. We’ve tried it and it was months of daily washing with no improvement. We’re working on it and that’s enough for me. Her therapist says she will get it under control before she goes to college.

What really pisses me off is that she will NOT bring those wet pants downstairs to the trash, no matter what I do! She leaves them on the floor, or hides them in her messy room. My ENTIRE second floor of my house smells like piss! Tall girl is forced to live in that stench with her. It travels down the stairway to greet visitors at the front door. I CAN NOT STAND IT ANYMORE!

So tonight, at tuck in, I screamed at her. I had a total mommy meltdown. I know people who would be horrible about the bed wetting. Parents that would PUNISH their child for the bed wetting alone. I don’t. Which makes me that much madder that she can’t even throw them out. I’m done. I can’t do it. It has to stop. It has to. 😦

The ropes

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When your in the black hate spiral there is a rhythm to it. The less you feel like doing, the more that needs done. My nice quiet weekend is turning into a never ending list of things that need done. I don’t “feel” like doing ANY of it. So how do you choose what to let slide and what to do. Normally, I let housework and cooking slide. This weekend I don’t think I can because suddenly, I’m having company and once again, people need me for things. I am not the type to look at my struggling friends and say “Sorry, your on your own because I need to selfishly take care of myself”.

The hate spiral sucks. It’s the opposite of who I wish to be, yet it’s pull is so strong. Guess I better go get my big girl pants and put them on and hope that after I bury myself for my friends and family, they will have the decency to dig me back out.

I can feel it coming

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Like a storm, the black hate spiral. Hateful for no reason, unhappy, overwhelmed, life crashing in like a tsunami. I’m trying hard to stop it but it won’t let up. The kids can feel it I think. Their reaction seems to be to engage me as much as possible, the opposite of what I crave and their moods blacken with me. A vicious circle. It comes out of nowhere it seems. Yesterday I was fine. Today, desolate.

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This time I will try something new. I will reach out. I will wave my hands and scream. I have good people who will throw me a line and this time I will grab the rope with both hands and pull with all my might. This time I see it coming and I will take shelter and remind myself that it will clear and when it does, it will be beautiful.

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Ouch and stupid laptop and school better start soon

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I am becoming very cranky about blogging from my phone, hence the lapse of several days here. I’ve been busy getting settled back in at home and trying very hard not to kill my kids. School starts in 14 days and I’m trying to get everyone back on schedule. Getting back on schedule is not easy around here. We’re all night people, not morning people. The Tall one has High School Freshman Orientation tomorrow. Just kill me now please. Also today I noticed that my Middle Minion appears to be growing boobs. She’s 10. This is totally unacceptable.

My Nan went to see the crazy Uncle with me tonight. It was better then my usual visits cause he was busy hitting on Nan but he still talked about going home tomorrow. It’s not fair either because my cuz reported that Uncle didn’t mention going home at all last week. That’s only partially true cause he called me up North a half a dozen times to come get him. Dementia fucking sucks people. It really does.

While I’m not going into detail cause it would definately be TMI, my body is doing weird shit that is painful and of a nature that you don’t generally get to whine out loud or wince about for fear of how to answer the “what’s the matter” question. FML

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But I’m not sleepy…

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Well my sissy face and I did start painting the bedroom because it turns out, it was not a nice sunny day at the beach, so paint we did. The problem is despite the assurances of the lady at the paint department, it’s not easy getting good coverage on paneling.

We’ve gotten two coats on but it definately needs a third. It’s 1am and sissy face and the minions have gone to bed. Sofa city for me since we couldn’t put her room back together yet as originally planned. I LOVE painting. It’s crazy how I love to paint but my OCD is making it difficult to not go put the 3rd coat on right now, all by myself, cause I’m not sleepy. So…to paint, or not to paint, that is the question.

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