I Don't Want to Live This Life Anymore

 

It's been awhile since I have written anything.  I usually blog when I am really suffering from depression.  To be honest, I've been suffering for a while now but just haven't had the energy to type it all out.

Christmas was hard.  I just didn't want to do it.  I didn't want to celebrate.  I didn't want to decorate.  I just didn't want to.  It was made worse by it also being my 56th anniversary of being here.

I can't say that I have had suicidal thoughts but I did have a scary moment when I whispered to myself, "I don't want to live this life anymore". 

Since I have had moments in the past where I did put a blade to my wrist or swallowed a bunch of pills, I was a bit scared of myself.

Intrusive thoughts can be horrible when you don't have a safety net.  No therapist to call, no action plan in place, no will to call a hotline.

I did take a moment to gather myself and think of the triggers.

No joy these days.

I have taken a creative break from my artwork.  This probably wasn't the best idea but if you have to force creativity, then it truly is not beneficial.  I also didn't want to do the art/craft shows this year.  To force myself to be something I wasn't feeling this year to people I do not know is hard, very hard.

I also live with my elderly father who can be challenging at times.  He is a very critical man.  Always has something negative to say.  I always feel unlovable because I don't meet his expectations of me.  I feel that I am not the daughter he wants.  I feel less than anything.  It is hard, very hard to not lose my shit altogether. 

My job has changed into something I am not happy doing.  We have new owners and again, I feel unneeded.  I have been shut out from what I liked doing and am now doing things I hate.  I don't want to go to work in the morning.  I am trying to ride out the storm but honestly, I hate it.

I hate interviewing more so there's that conundrum.

Money was super tight for awhile.  The one positive thing about the new ownership is that I no longer have to pay for my health insurance and that means more money in my pocket.

The opposite of this positive is that my car needs work which means money, which means, ugh.

I think when I say that I don't want to live this life anymore, I mean I don't want to live like this anymore.  There has to be a happier place for me.  There has to be something better out there. 

Or

There has to be a way to change my outlook on things.  I think I need to find things to do that I enjoy again.  I need to create more things.  I need to expand myself.  Travel maybe.... I have a bucket list.

I do have things to look forward to so I don't plan on leaving this life just yet.  I do plan on making some changes.  What those changes are will just need to be decided on.

Losing Kate

 

Katherine Marlene was born at 16:16 pm on June 9, 2002.  She was a petite 7 pounds, 5 ounces and had a full head of hair.  She had big, beautiful eyes and long fingers.  She had a tiny little birthmark on her earlobe.  We knew she was a girl long before she made her appearance.  

As she grew, her personality really started to shine.  She was smart and funny.  She was also quite trying on the patience at times.

Her teen years started with her always wanting to succeed in school, bringing home straight "A"s without me even having to push.  She was always harder on herself.

Teenage Kate had her hard moments.  We struggled with her eating disorder and low self esteem.  We sought help on numerous occasions.  She attempted suicide once and was hospitalized.  Once we found the right treatment, she started to soar.

At the beginning of this September it all came to a halt.

Her move in day at the start of her sophomore year of college turned into a nightmare.  

She was raped by another student in his dorm room.  

She internalized the trauma for about ten days before she told me.  Ashamed and embarrassed, she didn't want to be judged.  As a rape victim, one tends to blame themselves and is often afraid to speak out.  A victim feels afraid of retaliation and also fear that they won't be believed.  A victim is in shock and is unable to fully process what has happened to them.

I finally talked her into reporting it and she went to the hospital to get examined.  During the exam, she vocalized wanting to die and they had to commit her to behavioral health for 72 hours.

After her release, she was exhibiting signs of delusions and hallucinations.  Her dad was concerned and brought her back to the hospital.  She has been diagnosed with psychosis.  She has been creating an alternate reality to hide from the trauma of the attack.

As a parent, I cannot explain how horrible it feels to have lost your child on top of knowing what she has been through to bring her to this point.  

She doesn't deserve this.... any of it.

I cannot visit her due to covid restrictions.  I cannot hold her and tell her that she will be alright.  I cannot take away any of her pain.  I couldn't protect her from the monster who did this to her.  I cannot wipe her tears.

When I talk to her, I don't know this Katie.  

I pray that I have not lost her.  I pray so hard.

I listen for any little hint that she's still in there somewhere.

I don't want to be losing Kate.

The Berlin Wall and My Mother

I used to have a piece of the Berlin Wall.

I bet you are wondering how this relates to my mother.

Let me tell you...

This is probably one of this most difficult things to write about and it has taken me years to put it together and just as long to not stop writing to have a cry.

Like I said, I used to have a piece of the Berlin Wall.  I also had a very coveted Stephen King novel and a potato belly mandolin.

As I write, please remember that I do love my mother.

You can love someone and at the very same time be angry at them.

I had a bad break up years ago that led me to see a counselor.  During my first visit I exclaimed, "Why do I keep choosing the wrong men?"

So the counselor asked me about my past, my family dynamics, my goals, what makes me happy.  You know, all that counseling stuff.

After a few sessions, my counselor mentioned that she thought I may be the daughter of a narcissistic mother.  She recommended that I read, "Will I Ever Be Good Enough", by Karyl McBride.

I read the book.  

And I cried for hours.

and hours....

The book felt like the author knew my life.

The hurt and anger bubbled up to the surface.  I had an understanding of why I am the way I am.

A narcissistic mother has the family revolve around them.  The pit siblings against each other.  She is extremely controlling of one child (me), makes one out to be the bad kid (my brother) and ignores the rest (my sister).

A narcissistic mother cannot exhibit empathy.  She doesn't acknowledge your successes and stresses the importance of how things look to her and not how it feels for you.  She is critical and judgmental.  She is more of a friend than a parent.  She tells you how to feel instead of asking how you feel.  

The dynamic of a narcissistic mother is so broad that I cannot even list everything and not all narcissistic mothers have all of the dynamic.

Obviously, growing up, I never knew of this form of abuse but as an adult, I totally do now.

Trying to heal from it is difficult.  I suffer from such self doubt.  

When I fix my hair, I hear my mom's voice, "If you wear you hair short, you face wouldn't look so fat." 

I struggle in relationships.  I try so hard to please my partner that I lose who I am in the process.  I have had lots of practice trying to please my mother in order to receive love and acceptance.  I never felt like I totally achieved the goal.

During my counseling, I grieved for my younger self.  I see a little blonde haired girl wanting desperately to be loved but never feeling it the way that it should have been.

Instead of encouraging me to grow and learn my way, she limited me.  I wanted to go to college so bad in Colorado.  I applied and was accepted at several universities.  When the acceptance letters came in the mail, I eagerly showed them to my mom.  She looked at the letters in disgust and said that she would never pay for me to go to a school that far away.  My hopes and dreams were cut so very short.  I basically gave up on dreaming after that.

When I was 21, I finally moved out and as I was packing up my room I noticed my coveted Stephen King novel, that she had even given my one Christmas, was missing as well as a piece of the Berlin Wall that a friend had sent me.  I questioned her on it and she said that she took them and gave them to one of her friends because she figured I was doing reading the book and that I didn't want the rock anyway.

Even after all this time, I am very angry.  Two of my favorite treasures.....gone.

After my second divorce, my parents were helping me move into my new house.  She spotted my antique potato belly mandolin and asked if she could have it back.  She gave it to me for Christmas one year.  She wanted to gift it to my nephew (that I have never met) because she felt he would appreciate it more than me.

Again, I felt defeated but I didn't stand up to her.

Even after she died, my sister got her wedding rings and she said that was going to happen because I should get my grandmother's ring from my Aunt.  She said I should contact her to get it.

So why do I write about this now?

It has taken time.  I have so many unfinished drafts.  It is a hard subject to explain.  I open myself up to judgment because heaven forbid that I talk bad about her.

I can only hope that I continue to heal.  

Maybe someday I will be good enough.



Links:

Will I Ever Be Good Enough by Karyl McBride

Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers Website

Being Single Mom

I don't brag much.

I never see the point.  I don't need a pat on the back or sympathy.

I'm a single mom.

I have been for many years.

It is a struggle, a constant struggle.

I am so fortunate to have kids that turned out so great.  They could have been such different people without my sacrifices.

My son is now an engineer.  He has his head on straight.  He works hard and is smart with his money.

My daughter is a straight A student and is on path to graduate with honors.  She works, has a boyfriend and still manages to get constant As throughout her high school career.

I am amazed by both.

It has never been easy.  It is so hard to be strong for them while over coming obstacles, many of which were put in my path by their fathers.

I am sure some of you are reading this and thinking about their fathers.  Both fathers chose to bow out.  They left turmoil and unknowns behind.  They left me to deal with late night vomit, heartbreaks, homework, deadlines, school projects, fundraisers, practices, no money, utility shutoffs, and homelessness.

These fathers never had to make decisions, never signed field trip slips.  They never offered to coach soccer.  They never had to make sure the kids had to get to school on time.  There never had to be around when a meltdown started.

I have learned enough about cars to encourage my son's love of them.

I've struggled with money.  I have wondered how to put food on the table.  I've even been evicted by my daughter's father. 

I gave up on my own dreams, my own sanity, my own happiness for the sake of raising good kids.  

I think I've earned the right to brag a little.

I have managed to raise successful adults.

It hasn't been easy.

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....

Why Dating Sites Make Great Blog Fodder

The kids told me (not asked me but told me) to start dating again.  They worry that I will be lonely (translation: I need help around the house.) when they are gone.

I haven't dated anyone since my break up (a bad one, mind you) with "he shall who shall not be named".

The break up caused a bit of heartache and also left my head really messed up since the issues with that relationship didn't surface until shortly (well, right after) that break up happened.

Anyway....

I decided to sign up on the dating site where I once was a while back.  I met some cool guys who remain my friends today.  I also met someone I fell in love with until he did a dumb ass thing and I fell out of love with him.

I signed up about 30 hours ago.

^^^^ see that ^^^^

30 hours

I received several messages.  Some were worth responding to and I even let one guy text me.  This one guy asked to be friends on Facebook.

I agreed.  I mean, what could it hurt?

right????

Well...

This jackwagon goes through my photos, texts me how gorgeous I am.  I politely thank him for the compliment.  (Silently, I wondered if he was blind).  Then all of a sudden he texts me saying that he couldn't figure me out.

huh?

I didn't know I needed figuring.

I am not a math problem.

So I questioned him.

He said that he didn't think I was serious about dating anyone and that he thinks I am wasting men's time by being there. 

Huh???

Yeah....ok....

He got that from the few texts and exchanges on the damn dating site.

hrrrrmmmmm....He must be Dr. Joyce Brothers in disguise.  Who is wasting who's time here buddy?

So I confronted him.

This is what he read.....ready????

"I don't have any tattoos because I'm not a fam of pain or commitment.  Pretty much the same reasons I'm not in a relationship"

Apparently he didn't get my sense of humor and promptly "unfriended" me.

He also isn't getting any more correspondence from me either.

Oh and...I also removed my profile from the dating site.

Ain't nobody got time for that.

*sigh*

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.