A Mother's Cry

 

This is probably one of the hardest things I've written about.  I've started it many times and put it aside because I was never sure if I could even put it into words.

I also didn't want anyone judging the situation.  It is a tough situation to even think about going through but then to actually live it....

Mind you, what I am about to write about happened a few years ago and we are all fine now.  I am writing about it because I am sure other moms have gone through it, are going through it or will go through it.  I just want you to know that you are not alone.

I thought it was odd that she asked me for an extension cord.  She said that she needed it for her curling iron.  I had a long day and didn't really question her.  After several minutes...hell, it could have been an hour but the time doesn't matter, she came out of the bathroom and admitted to the lie and said that the cord was to put into the tub with her.

As a parent, I didn't know what to do.  I knew she struggled and we had tried to get help but help was just almost impossible to find.  School counselors were focused on SATs and college meetings.  I was told that they were too busy to even refer us to someone who could help.  I had called behavioral health and got her in to see an older guy but he really couldn't relate to poor body image and teenage breakups.

I tried to help but she accused me of making it about me.  I only tried to relate to what she was going through but she didn't see me as ever being a teenager.

When she admitted the intent of the extension cord, I calmly said that I was glad that she told me and we talked for a bit.  She went to bed.

I was up all night thinking why the fuck couldn't I help my own child.  I felt like a failure.  I made the decision to seek the ultimate help.

I can't really remember if she went to school the next day but again, the timeline doesn't really matter.

I made the decision to take her to the emergency room and seek for some way to help her.

She had serious body image issues.  She binged and purged.  She was a shell of what she once was.  She worked out constantly.

She had bullies at school who were into cyberbullying her.  Her ass was too big, her arms were too hairy, and whatever else.  

She self harmed.  Her arms were cut with scissors or a knife.

She was angry and depressed.

and I couldn't help her.

My beautiful child was a mess.

She didn't fight me on going to the hospital.  Which surprised me but I think she was just ready to get help too.

In the emergency room they ran blood tests and checked vitals.  Finally a doctor came and talked with us, mainly her.  She explained everything that was going on with her and her thoughts.  I was startled to learn that it was worse that what I was seeing.  My heart broke even more.

I stepped out with the doctor and he asked what I was thinking.  I started to cry and said that I think she needs to be admitted to the pysch ward and if she doesn't agree, I will have her forcibly placed.

As a mother, this had to be one of the hardest decisions I had to make. 

I talked with her a bit about my decision and at first she was scared about how it would all work.  She then opened to the idea and agreed to go.

It was hard leaving her there but I also knew that she was safe.  That first night I slept so good knowing that she was safe.

The first few days were hard for her as she never liked sleeping away from home but as she got involved in the program, I began to see improvement.  She was there for about 5 days.  

We put a plan into place so that she could come home.  We learned to talk about things.  We worked with a counselor.  Her medication was adjusted.

I'm not saying that everything was perfect after that.  There have been some large bumps in the road but we have tools to deal with them.

Despite everything she was a straight A student.  She is bright, funny, and beautiful.

I am proud of my daughter.

Hand Me Downs

As a child I remember the hand me downs.  I always received clothes from my older cousins.  Getting a new bag of old clothes was always fun for me.  I loved my cousins' sense of style. (Even though I think my aunts had all the doing in it.)

We weren't poor but we weren't rich either.

I think my parents saved money this way.  Geico wasn't around to switch to back in the late 70's.

These days I think my daughter would have a major melt down at the very thought of wearing hand me downs.  She will not even go to Goodwill for Pete's sake.  

I try to explain that second hand jeans are the best when they are already broke in.  She doesn't buy it.

(Can't wait till that kid gets a job.)

What got me thinking about hand me downs didn't even have to do with clothes.

I am typing this blog on a hand me down (over) laptop.  My daughter never used it.

NEVER

Do you know what her father had paid for this thing?

Anyway...

My other laptop, which was a hand me down (over) from my son, completely died.

There was no fanfare, no sparks, no blue screen of death.  It just stopped taking a charge.  No matter what new charger I bought for it, it just decided to die.

My children didn't only hand me down (over) computers....oh no.

I also have an iPad mini that my daughter never used.

Crazy eh?

These kids are strange.

Maybe they get it from me....

who knows.

But I like hand me downs.

never mind.... I'm not making sense.

I keep referring to my kids handing me "over" because they aren't really handing stuff down to me.  I am older after all. 

But they are taller than me...but I digress.

The real blessing in using the hand me down (over) electronics is that I can spend my money on other things.  Like groceries, bills and gas to get to work.

Maybe someday my kids will change their minds when they have kids of their own.

Inside My Hurt Locker

"You eat too much."

There's a statement, huh?

Funny how such simple words can cut deep and scar long.  

I heard the words a few days ago.  In fact, my own dad said them to me.  

I still have tears just typing them.

I was excited and was looking so forward to his visit. I don't see family much and I've been working long, crazy hours.  

The visit didn't go as I had hoped or expected.

It was almost as if I was back in my childhood. A very unhappy time with two parents who fought often and harshly.  Sometimes their anger towards each other spilled over onto us kids.  In fact, I often think of my childhood as being inside of my own hurt locker.  

I grew into an adult who craves to be loved and cared for.  I grew into an adult who's unable to make a decision because she was never given the confidence.  I grew into an adult who looks in the mirror and sees her long hair making her face look fat.

I know as a reader you might be thinking that my parents were horrible people but they really weren't. Looking back, I can understand their adult lives and emotions.  Perhaps they parented the best they could.  But even with understanding, it doesn't keep my child-self from hurting.

I do catch myself wishing that I had a different childhood.  One where parents hug you and tell you that they are proud of you.  One where mom and dad hug each other and speak to each other in normal tones.  

Perhaps my dad didn't mean his words to be as hurtful as they were received.  

As a parent, I don't ever say anything to my kids that cause them to second guess who they are.  I tell them that they can choose to do or be anything that they want to be.  I never make them feel stupid for trying to help with a project.

I hope my children never have to feel like they have a hurt locker.  

Sometimes I Think I am Losing my Shit

Yeah, I know the title has a swear word in it. (sorry dad)

As I have written about in the past, I have depression.  I've had it for as long as I can remember.  I've dealt with it.  I deal with it.  I most likely will continue to deal with it.

I write about it because it helps.

Lately I feel like I am going to just lose my shit and explode.

So much flies at me that it is like extreme dodge ball but not with balls.  I want to say almost like the old fashioned pointy jarts.  If you don't know what those are, go ahead and google it, I'll wait.

It is almost 3:30 in the morning and I obviously am not sleeping.  I am supposed to get up to go to work in about two hours.  That won't be happening.  I am going to take a personal day to try to get my shit together.

When I say that I am about to lose my shit, I mean that I have so much on my mind that if one more thing comes at me, I think I may just about run around the apartment screaming "uncle".

Some stuff is good, like my job and about a deal I have in the works about a bigger place to live.  Some stuff is bad, like my older kid having health issues and my weekly dental visits.

Then I can add in the fact that I am extremely upset with my step father and never mention it to anyone because I am not sure how to even explain how I feel or how anyone would take my feelings.  I am afraid to even mention it to him since he called me a few days ago (it had been about 6 months before that) and he had me on speaker phone with his "girlfriend".  It just makes me so uncomfortable and angry.

Whatever....

I also feel like the walls of this apartment are closing in on me.  I can't seem to breathe.  I look around and feel pathetic.  I hate the neighbors and I don't even know them.  The parking lot pisses me off every time I trip on the broken asphalt.  The hallway stinks of cigarettes and old dogs.  My doorbell is broken and the fridge makes this horrible clunking noise. The landlord fails to address any of the issues.

I miss my mom.

My daughter is being confirmed next month and the ex wants to do a party.  I am not to sure how to feel.  We always have got along well but his family is another story.  The thought of facing my two ex-sisters in law from hell gives me anxiety.  I'll will do it and be nice because that's who I am and I will never ever let on that they just wig me out.

Sometimes I wish I had a girlfriend to have wine with so I can talk to someone.  I often wish my long time friends weren't so far away.  I miss them terribly.

So, here I am typing away.  I have a weird form of ADD too so I flip back and forth between tabs.  I have puppies on one, sofas on another and google images on a third.  

I tried to read my book a little but the mind is strong tonight and just wants to keep churning.

What's a Vacation?

It seems like forever since I have had some sort of significant vacation.

I don't think I have ever had one where I completely unwound from life's little stresses.

It may very well be a long long time before I even get a vacation.

Things just have been building up and they never ever really get resolved or any sort of relief.

I love my job but it does have its stressful moments.  I often consider taking my "damn it" doll with me in the morning.  It is this cloth doll that is ugly and you are supposed to choke it or hit someone with it when you are irritated.  Someday Damn It will have his very own blog entry.

I love my kids but as anyone knows, who has kids, that they can be little bundles of stress themselves.  Just today my daughter comes home from Ash Wednesday services with her dad just ranting and yelling about how she is never going to church again....ever.  She lit into me because I was trying to make an Oreo Torte and I have no idea why that had any connection with church, but um....ok.

Seriously....its an Oreo Torte.  Back off, crab ass. 

I love my guinea pigs but the new pig is a total shit head.  He is young and doesn't understand the house rules yet.  The new pig is still trying to make himself known and chatters a lot and runs around the pen, making a racket.  The older pig has about enough of the new pig.  I think I even saw him eyeball my damn it doll to whack the noobie.

I don't love where I live but hey, its a roof over my head and the rent is cheap.  But the damn neighbors are pissing me off.  The downstairs asshole screamed and swore at me for parking in "his" space.  Um....we don't have assigned spaces. The neighbors next door play this funny game called "Let's See Who Can Yell the Loudest".  If they keep it up, they will learn that the winner will be me.

Oh and I can't forget about my daily dose of pain with my teeth.  I need to have oral surgery to have four removed, prepped for implants, and some serious fixing done.  This doesn't come cheap even with insurance.  To get started, I need to have $1500 up front.  So this means that I have to wait to have any sort of relief from the pain.  My diet consists of ibuprofen,Tylenol, Vicodin, penicillin, mashed potatoes, pudding and occasional cottage cheese.

I think I just need a break.

Oy!

Baby Not on Board

I suppose I will catch a bunch of flak for what I am about to write but I really don't care.  It is just a weird fact about me.

I am not a fan of babies.

I didn't like being pregnant.  Not. One. Bit.  It was a weird yucky feeling and then it became unbearably uncomfortable.  

I know that it has been noted that pregnant women look glowing and beautiful and all that blah blah shit.  I was even told that of myself way back when.  I didn't feel it.  I looked tired and grumpy.  

My belly never "popped" out until about 8 months and then everybody was touching me.

I probably should mention that I hate strangers touching me.

I would mention the fact that I hated being pregnant in various conversations when others would gush about how they loved it.  I just didn't get it.

bleh....

When I was pregnant with my son, I didn't have morning sickness.  It came about mid evening.  The very thought of Chinese food would send me flying into the bathroom.  I craved canned spinach and ate it right out of the can.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, her baby body was pushing on something and I couldn't stop coughing.  The doctor couldn't prescribe anything for it because it would hurt the fetus.  I coughed so hard, I would throw up.  I slept most nights on the bathroom floor.

I was miserable.

Now you are probably thinking that I just hated being pregnant.

Oh no...

Babies aren't my thing.  I don't like guessing why they are crying.  I hated that whole diaper thing.  Then they spit up that yucky stuff.  I don't care to hold them.  I don't like the smell of them.  Bottles, nooks, diapers, mixing formula (my kids had issues), car seats, no sleep.....my list goes on...didn't like any of it.  You have to plug all the outlets, baby proof the cabinets, put all your breakable collectibles away. Do I even have to mention stretch marks?

Oh and I cannot stand the smell of baby powder.

HURL!!!!

Someone would come into work with their new baby and everyone would ask to hold it.  Not me!  Nope....  Everyone would gush over how cute it was.  Not me!  Nope...  I would look at that new beaming mom and think "you poor woman, no sleep for 2 to 3 years" and "good luck getting back to normal".

I know I sound terrible.

I can't help it.

My kids think it's funny that they made it out of babyhood.

It isn't that I would lock them in the closet when the cried or left them in poopy diapers. 

I did the whole mommy thing and suffered.  I just would go out of my way to have more babies.

Once my babies started becoming little people, I just enjoyed them so much more.  As they continue to grow into young adults, I continue to enjoy them. 

They have grown into wonderful people.  They are intelligent, witty and awesome.

and...

They are not babies.

If Wishes Were Horses Then Beggars Would Ride

Sometimes I sit and just wish....

I wish I was taller sometimes.  It seems like I am three inches too short to reach just about anything.  Why in the heck do they put two liters up so high at the local Piggly Wiggly?  I just stand there and sigh and say a little prayer that I won't just drop one on my head as I try to finaggle (yes, that's a word) it out of its spot and into my cart.

I wish I were prettier sometimes.  I look in the mirror at my poor tired face and think I just looked better about 10 years ago.  Life really takes its toll on a woman's face.  Just sayin...

I wish I were richer sometimes.  Not just with money but with wealth.  It seems that I don't have much of anything.  I don't have an estate.  They do say money can't buy happiness but I don't think I would be sad sitting in a big house with no payment.  I also don't think I'd miss my job much.  It tend to make me tired.

I wish I had more friends that lived closer and wanted to do shit.  I basically sit at my job all day (looking tired) and then I go home and sit (looking tired) alone.  I don't interact with anyone other than my kids.  I don't go to a Saturday bridge club nor do I go bowling.  I don't do much of anything except spend time with myself.

I wish I could just go some where else.  I get tired of being some where.  I watch that House Hunters show where these people just leave the life they are living to live another life some where else that is different.  I think, "Wow, such new experiences and cultures."  I was to just go do that.

I wish my kids got along better.  They bicker and argue.  This makes me tired (and have a headache).  They aren't very tolerant of each other.  I keep thinking that things will get better as they get older but so far they are just older.

I wish I could have spent more time with my mom before she died.  I regret not just going to spend time with her.  Instead I stayed here with no friends and my crappy job (my old job that made me not only tired but angry).  I should have just left here and went there.

I wish I could have explained to my mom how therapy was working.  She would have just got defensive though and probably angry and most likely would have stopped talking to me.  She got mad at everyone else including her mom and sisters and my dad and other people and just stopped talking to them.  She made it difficult to be me sometimes.

I wish I was skinnier.  I know I should diet and exercise and all that crap but I don't.  It is my fault but still, I can wish for it.  I wish french fries made you drop the pounds.

I wish I could be with someone who wouldn't just leave me or cheat on me or just be a real douche bag.  This tends to prevent me from dating.  It also makes me lonely.  Maybe this is why I got the three damn cats.  This is why women get cats.  They get tired of being hurt.  I wish this wasn't the case, but it is.  

I wish I was happier.  I need to find out what exactly makes me happy.  I need to find a passion or have a goal or something.  

I wish I could write a fabulous book that allowed me to do tours and be on stage to talk about the crap in my book.  People would always want to come listen to what I have to say because I am witty and wise. 

I wish my asthma would go away.  I cough so hard sometimes that it feels like my brains will explode out my mouth and leave me dead right there on the street.  My chest hurts and it makes me tired.

I wish I could go back in time and just do what I wanted to do instead of what others wanted me to do.  I would have made mistakes.  I probably would have had regrets.  I most likely would have failed a few times.  I just would have been better than wondering "what if".

I wish I wasn't so tired sometimes.

I just wish....

Pringle Economics

I wrote a whole entry and it made me cry so I just saved it in my documents for another time.

I'm going through a rough time lately.

This isn't good when you suffer from depression.

Nope, not good at all.

And to make it worse, I just can't mope on the couch all day and just be depressed.  Oh no, I have to go out into the world and fake it.  Not fake depression, I mean fake not being depressed.  (you knew what I meant, right?)

Money is an issue right now.  I have a job, a good job but the paycheck doesn't go as far as it used to.  I am even spending less.  I am blaming the president (or the government).  I wasn't this broke four years ago.  

Think about it for a minute...and you democrats who think I am bashing him because he is a democrat, you are wrong.  I would bash anyone who doesn't help my paycheck go as far as it used to.

Four years ago a can of Pringles was about 99 cents.  Today they are almost 2 bucks.  

I'll give you a second to digest that.....

Who can afford Pringles these days?

Ok, now how about gas?

Or how about toilet paper?

Try an orange.....

Get my drift?

It sucks.

You know I make $500 too much a month to qualify for any sort of assistance?

I have to creatively budget my money for 6 months for me to even get my hair done while people who don't work can afford to not only get their hair done but also their nails, toes and their upper lip waxed.

I am working and not getting anywhere.  I almost want to quit my job and go back to Walmart so I make the minimum to qualify for state aid on shit.

Seriously.

Where are the programs to help single parents who are working to provide a good home, food and clothes for their kids?

It just pisses me off.

and upsets me....

a lot.