Once Again

I looked at her cheeky smile, and two beats passed before I smiled back. There is something wrong. I should be okay right now, things are going well, but I don't feel anything but rage. I'm avoiding people, seeking out friends who don't know me, putting the girls to sleep early so I can sit by myself in the dark.

Things are going well though, why can't I go along well too?

I'm scared it's coming back.

My persona, like the downstairs of my house, is relatively clutter free, clean swept, organized, functional and inviting. My upstairs, in the hidden parts, it's a quietly raging storm of dark thoughts, disorganized obsessions, guilt, fear, sadness, all melding together and obstructing any positivity in my life right now.

It's definitely coming back, and I have to stop it before it ruins my life, traumatizes my kids, breaks my marriage. Fuck, I don't want to deal with this. I don't know if I have the strength to do it again. I'm so tired.

And it all comes crashing down

I had a feeling something was wrong, ever since last Friday I just knew things weren't okay. Now he comes clean, and I've been asked not to talk about it. So I ruminate. And I cry. And I try to figure out how things are going to play out, but I can't. I can't know. It's all on him. I can't influence this, I'm not in control. I don't know what to do anymore.

So the tears are dry, and all I can do is hope that he'll figure this out, stand by his side as he works through the shit storm he created, and pray that the girls and I will come through unscathed. All trust in him is gone. God, this is a fucked up thing to have to deal with when I already have 2 babies to care for. I had hopes for staying home with the girls, but can I give up my job now?

I am so hurt and disappointed. Please don't ask for details, just know that my life became so much harder today, and I'm trying to respect his wishes to deal with it himself. That may not last, but I have to give him a chance.

Why? Again...

I just don't get how people can consciously ruin a relationship.

This is one of those days where I truly believe that I would be better off alone. I don't want to be a divorced single mother at 25, but I don't know if my sanity will allow me to stay here much longer. It's madness.

We had a good stretch going, and he goes and does this. It's 1:08pm, and he still isn't home, thinks he's being a good guy by calling to tell me he's still too drunk to drive, and oops, I forgot we were having people over today to watch the game, and later a small birthday party, but Baby, I love you, I promise I'll make it up to you.

And I'm stuck here, because he took the carseat. I can't go anywhere because I have the baby, and no way to transport her. SO I have to call and email people back that, hey, sorry for the late notice but you can't come over anymore because I can't go to the store to get supplies, and by the way, P isn't back from a night out getting drunk either. Even though the last time was supposed to be the end of it.

Like always.

I just don't know how much I am supposed to take before I snap? I don't know where the line is drawn between enabling his alcohol addiction, and just taking care of Taryn and myself? I don't know if these actions would bother me so much if they didn't affect me... if he had left the carseat and I could get on with my life, would I care so much that he's out drinking and smoking with the boys?

So am I angry because I'm selfish? Am I angry because he's killing himself, or because he is interfering with my life? I found an apartment I can afford, cheaper child care, a trade-in for my car... I can do it myself, I don't know why I'm still here.

Surrounded By Sickness

We're on her 8th set of PJs and the last clean crib sheet. Beginning at 6pm, Boogie has been vomiting every 30 minutes or so. It slowed down with an hour gap between her 9:15 and 10:20 sessions, and for a while I thought she might actually get some rest, but it happened again. I'm dreading tomorrow, but all I can do is wait and see if I'm going to catch this nasty virus too.

We actually spoke to a nice, knowledgeable advice nurse this time, who told us not to feed her anything, not even water for 30 minutes after she vomits, which made sense at first, but was quickly abandoned when we found the surprising regularity of her upheavals. This sucks, but I am so glad we have laminate floors and in-house laundry available, because if we didn't there'd be frantic calls to Nonny and Tere to drop by the laundromat.

P has been good. Amazing really how through this mini-crisis he's really stepped up. When she starts, I hold her and he cleans. We've both had to shower and change clothes a few times, but I'd do anything to ease her pain when I hear her hoarse little voice calling for me. I can't imagine the burning of her throat, to be doused in acid so much in so few hours, and when I hold her after she's finished, her little heart is thumping around her chest, probably from both fear and exertion.

On other fronts, I get to see Tygir tomorrow. No news is good news, according to the Vet, and I have a candle lit and send up a little prayer often that she'll be okay. I don't know exactly what's wrong yet, aside from her body shutting down due to her liver not functioning properly. When I brought her in Wednesday, she was cold, she couldn't keep her body heat up, she was severely dehydrated, hadn't eaten in 2 days and had very poor bladder control. Once again very grateful for laundry and no carpet.

So hopefully we'll know tomorrow. I don't know if the blood work will be back, but if it's terminal I'll have to decide what to do. I hope I can bring her home, I know she hates being alone, but I'm scared that once she gets here, she might let go.

2008 has already piled on more challenges that I imagined in 4 days. But like I said last year, He will never give me more than I can handle. I just need to get the lessons the first time around so that I don't go through this again..

The American Dream

I have always said I don't want to be rich, I just want to be comfortable. I want to go an entire year without worrying about money: how will we pay our bills? How can we pay down our debt? What the hell are we going to do if P doesn't get a job soon?

I don't want to win millions of dollars in the lottery, but I can't say that I'd complain if I won enough to pay off our debts and fund our retirement accounts. I try not to worry about the future too much, I have enough to stress off right now, but this job puts it in perspective. If I don't start saving now, I might be on the other side of the desk in 40 years.

I'm frustrated that it feels like life is one hurdle after another. I don't want to be catching up for the rest of my life. I do dream of a bigger house with a yard, but mostly so that I can get my mind off that fact that we can barely pay our mortgage right now.

I know part of the problem is that we're trying to do too much. We're trying to help friends and family financially, and there is simply not enough to go around right now. We've cut out most of the extras, no new clothes, no eating out, no movies, no clubs, no presents, and it still just isn't enough. We're trying to be understading of other people who think they are in a similar position, but we see what their money is spent on, and for us, it's not even an option. And it's frustrating to hear people complain about how broke they are when they are sporting new clothes or whatever.

We're trying to be understanding, we really are. But we are thisclose to losing it all. And the only person who can really understand this is P, because he can see what we are missing.

I can see the silver lining though. We are bonding over our anxiety. We sit and talk about what we'd do if we have a million dollars, and it's a pipe-dream, but it takes us out of the misery of the present. We discuss what is really important to us: do we save for retirement, or for Taryn's school fund? And it's kind of scary that we haven't been this deep on certain issues before, but it always happens at the right time.

And I know it will be okay. Eventually, things will turn up again, I just feel like I can't catch a break right now, and it's depressing. Even when I win, I lose. I am grateful that we are all healthy right now, we have enough food, we have a place to live, we're going to visit family and at least for those few weeks we are gone, we won't have to worry about how far we are from the American Dream.

Trying to be Honest

It's painful to admit it, but holidays are really difficult for me. These fews days of the year put it in glaring brilliance that I am not where I want to be in life.

I feel like I should be doing something. I feel bad that I'm at home on Halloween night, that the only places I was invited to were kids parties. I blame it on my husband, because if I wasn't married, maybe I'd have a more active social life. And lately I have been using Taryn as an excuse too, that if I didn't have to worry about a sitter, I'd be more free to cultivate relationships with people.

But the awful truth is if I was alone, no husband, no toddler, no job to "make" me be be responsible, I'd probably still be sitting home alone on Halloween night passing out candy to all the happy people who surround me, and feeling sorry for myself. Because that's just how I am.

I'm good at making friends, and I'm shitty at keeping them. It's something I've dissected on here before, and the fact that it is a recurring issue for me just makes it that much m ore difficult to face.

I woke up this morning hating my life. I didn't want to go to work. I didn't want to hear about how much fun everyone but me had at their Halloween party, or Trick-or-Treating, or how nice it was to just stay home and watch a movie. I wanted to lay in bed and cry all day long because I'm miserable right now.

So I smile and laugh, ask how your night was and gush over how fun next year will be but the truth is inside I'm cringing. I don't want to hear it today but I force myself to listen so I don't drown in my own self-pity.

***

I don't understand how biologically I can feel fine one day and so horribly depressed the next. I don't know how it is for other people, but my depression consumes by soul, it's not that I'm just sad. My body feels worn out and my emotions are raw. Everything seems too bright, and too dim at the same time. I don't have the energy or will-power to get out of bed and take care of my child, but my the hamster wheel in my brain is spinning out of control.

But the truth is, when I get out of my head for a minute: This is who I am.

Thank Goodness for the Ego

And I mean that in a wholly Freudian sense of the word.

I haven't blogged in almost two weeks, which could be construed as me doing very well emotionally, as I tend to blog when I have something I need to get out. I wish I could say that was true, but really, I've been dealing with so much lately, the most difficult being my Id trying to kick the ass of my Super-ego, that I figured it was safer not to write anything public.

I'm not a control freak, I just have a super-strong Super-ego. But these past couple weeks, I've wanted to just say fuck-all to everyone and leave me alone. I know part of it is being sick. And part of it is not sleeping well because the creepy fucking blue light in our room, and Boogie being up every couple hours with a 102 fever and a runny nose. Tygir has something wrong with her hip, so I'm contemplating medical bills up the yang, and really? Nanny, I'm not your fucking mother.

I know I've taken on a lot, and I don't want to deal with it anymore. I wish, for one short period in my life, that someone else would just deal with everything for me so I can focus on what's really important. I don't want to be the gagged confidant right now. I don't want the frustration of my solicited opinions being constantly ignored. I don't want to cook and clean, walk the dogs, or even shower. I just want to take care of my baby the way I know she needs it.

I'm feeling very judgmental at the moment. I don't agree with what you are doing, but I don't even have the energy to tell you that. It's easier for me to shut-up and listen, then you'll stop talking about yourself and maybe give a damn about my well-being for a moment. Even writing that, I can see the repercussions coming, the questions, the anger... But what to do? It applies to everyone I'm in contact with lately, my boss, my coworkers, clients and friends. No one specific, just everyone. And it's obviously me, because my head isn't big enough to think I'm in the center of some elaborate conspiracy to make me feel shitty.

So don't take it personally if you start yacking and my eyes glaze over. I just don't have the energy to deal with your stuff right now. I don't have the energy to be caring and sympathetic. I only have enough to take care of me and Boogie right now, and ah! A jolt of maturity and wisdom... That's all I'm going to try to do.

Safeway Flowers and a Card

On Tuesday, please nobody mention to me the fact that my husband is a worthless *bleep*ing loser.

For my first Mother's Day, I get Safeway flowers and a card. This *bleep* has the audacity to stay up until 3am drinking...by himself, then when Taryn starts crying in the morning, he bring her downstairs to write her name in a card for me, and *bleep*ing spells it wrong on the outside. What a monumental failure I have been at picking decent men.

So yay for me. Mother's Day sucks.

I don't even have enough money to go do something nice for myself today. All I can do it take Taryn on a walk, and if I don't calm down soon enough, I may go buy my $400 purse on HIS credit card.

What an *bleep*. He spends hundreds of dollars a month on bars, clubs, playing golf with his friends, and Mother's Day rolls around and he is all of a sudden too broke to get me anything? Too lazy to make me breakfast? Too much of a *blee*-*bleep*ing *bleep* to do anything at all for me?

"Oh but Baby, I made you dinner last night!"

Well *bleep*, I cooked every night this week. It was your turn. And since when are empanadas a special dinner for anything???????

Please, don't get me wrong. It's not the lack of a gift I'm pissed about. It's the lack of giving a *bleep* about my emotional well-being in general that has my panties in a bunch. I *bleep*ing deserve some appreciation for what I do, and the one day set aside for that ... zilch.

The baby starts fussing, and all of a sudden he's a *bleep*ing expert. "Maybe she's cold, whay don't you change her diaper, maybe she doesn't want yogurt for breakfast." SHUT THE *BLEEP* UP. When's the last time you changed her diaper, fed her, or put clothes on her? Don't tell me how to do my *bleep*ing job, Idiot.

I know more about Taryn right now than you will in you entire life, because you don't give a flying *bleep* about anyone but yourself. And for the record, I will be a vindictive *bleep* and return the golf clubs I got you for Father's Day.

Happy *Bleep*ing Mother's Day to me.

No Control

Tonight was the first time in a long time I had to give Taryn to her father to be put to sleep. Normally, it's the other way around. Normally she'll cry with him, and fall asleep fairly easily with me. but not tonight.

I've been trying for an hour and a half to put her down. Every time I put her in the crib, she starts crying hysterically, snot dripping down her nose, tears streaming down her face. I left her to cry for 5 minutes, picked her up and settled her down, and immediately when I put her back in the crib, she started screaming. 10 minutes and I go back in, rock her a bit, sing to her some more, put her back in the crib and she's screaming again. 15 minutes later, still screaming.

I tried to nurse her, she's swinging her arms in circles, flailing and scratching, kicking me in the neck. I try not to take it personally, I know she's not intentionally hurting me, but I just got so damn frustrated. Neither one of us are in control. I can't get her to calm down enough to sleep, and she can't soothe herself either, so we're stuck in this awful struggle, both with the same goal, but neither of us able to accomplish it.

So before I get too angry, after an hour and a half of this back and forth crap, I call P to put her to bed. I know he's pissed, he just got back form the gym and was trying to make dinner. I feel like an utter fucking failure, and go figure it'd be on the eve of my first Mother's Day. Maybe I don't deserve to celebrate, it takes more than a cooch to be a mother and tonight is one of those nights I question my ability to do this. To raise an independent being.

I feel my chest tightening up, and I'm trying my damnest not to let the tears flow, but this is not what I was expecting. I knew it would be hard, but why do I get the shit jobs? Why does P just get to play with her, and her eyes light up when she see's him, but me? I'm just food. No excitement to see me anymore, but I get the struggle whenever I try to pick her up. I know the transition is hard, to have Mama back when I've been at work all day, but can I get an ounce of appreciation for what I'm doing? I know she can't control her emotions, but it breaks my brittle fucking heart that she doesn't give a shit when I walk in the door.

Ms. Independent

Time and again I've teetered on the brink of despair. Time and again, I've been violently flung over the edge, falling blindly and helplessly into this never-ending pit of despair. A hard, black, soul-crushing journey, my body beaten up on the way down, hitting every last regret, every sorrow, every unfulfilled wish, and time and again I've managed to eventually find one thing to cling to. One tiny thread of hope that I can dig my nails into and climb back out again, never fully reaching the top, but always so close I can breathe in the sweet scent of happiness, before I am ruthlessly tossed again to face the impending death of my psyche that has yet to occur.

And each time, I realize that I have to make my own happiness. I need to re-discover myself. I started this blog to do just that a couple years ago when I was sure it was the last time. Curled up in the fetal position in bed, the blankets covering my head, my mind drifting away from inhaling too much of my own carbon dioxide, wishing for a quick end to the misery but knowing all along I have so much left to do. My body wracked by alternating shivers and body-drenching sweats from a psychologically induced physical illness I knew that I was creating the madness in my life that I longed to get rid of, but clung desperately to.

Every time I am disappointed to tears, every time I know, and write, that I need to get out. I need to un-stick myself from this shoddy excuse for being miserable, grab life by the balls and BE ME! But I feel so helpless in the face of what I've envisioned, because as lofty as my goals for personal exploration and re-invention are, I don't know how.

I despise the fact that I have become so dependant on him. I always prided myself on being self-sufficuent, on putting myself through college by working full-time, and appreciating the help and support I received from friends and family, but still able to claim these accomplishments as my own. And at some point I took being married too far. I love P madly, but about 3 years ago, I stopped loving myself so that I could love him more.

And where has it gotten me? I'm fucking miserable half the time. I'm almost always depressed and anxious. My joy is my daughter, but I'm scared shitless to put that burden on her, for fear it will influence her way of being and maybe she'll turn out like me. She is my life, and even now, this morning, when I'm normally happy to be up with her at 5am, to have a little cuddle time while she nurses, feed her some cereal, then sit on the floor for a hour drinking my coffee while we play with her toys before her next nap. Today, I couldn't do it. I nursed her in bed, then handed her to her father, turned my back to them both and cried myself back to sleep.

So. Screw all those other resolutions. If I can't get my mind right, I can't do anything else. Five months into the year, and I don't feel any better about myself. There is a trainer a my job who posts a question at each sesison, "What is the most important thing to your life?" Not what is most important in your life, but what one thing could you filter all your decisions through to make the best ones for yourself. I always said happiness, but I'm realizing that I don't exactly know what makes me happy. I don't know myself, and I can't decide what is going to make me happy and content until I figure out who in the fuck I am, what I like, what makes me happy.

I'm going for SELF-SUFFICIENCY. I don't know how to be independent anymore, I don't know how to be happy, but I think that if I can be self-sufficient, if I can develop myself outside of being a wife and a mother, figure out who I am, what I enjoy, and do it them maybe I can be happy and independent, and mentally healthy.

And anyone who wants to join me, please, I can use all the support I can find. If I'm being co-dependent, call me on it. If I'm hiding out because I'm depressed, point it out. I'll probably be pissed off to get called out, but I'll appreciate it in a few years when I am able to get my shit together and look back and see how far I've come.

And now, I'm off to hike with Taryn. These walls are closing in on me, and I need to take some initiative to get the fuck outta here.

Waste of a Day

It would be so easy to blame it on Taryn that I'm home right now. It would be easy to say that if she would sleep somewhere besides her crib, I'd be out partying. But she doesn't. And I'm not.

I'm not angry about her. I'm angry that P made us leave late, so I literally got 10 minutes to sit and relax, when I could have had an hour and a half. But he refused to help me with anything, and decided at the last minute to take a shower. And to work on a mix CD I'd been asking about for a week.

And we could have taken 2 cars, but he didn't want to waste gas. So instead of him bringing her home and me finally! getting a night out to relax with friends, I have to go home with him.

And his only response: "I didn't want to go anyway. You should have just left me at the house with the baby."

Funny, I seem to remember similar words before, and when I actually go out without him, he gets so petty and vindictive. Like "falling asleep and not hearing his phone" when he agreed to pick me up so I wouldn't drive drunk. Or "accidentally taking my keys" so that I can't leave unless someone picks me up. He doesn't want to go out with me, and he doesn't want me to go out without him. So what the fuck am I supposed to do? Stay home every night, by myself?

Frustrated and angry don't explain how hopelessly depressed I am.

Problems.

In my family growing up, it was perfectly fine and normal to show anger. So posting two opposite blogs back-to-back wasn't really a problem for me.

I'm sick of feeling like the only place I can really talk and explain myself is on this blog. And not that I want to stop blogging, but it irritates me that I have to take so much time to think things through before I respond.

Someone commented to me today that it was "funny" the two blogs I posted about P, and I didn't really say anything in response because I didn't understand the comment. Just because I'm pissed at him doesn't mean I love him any less, and just because one day I blog about loving him madly with all my heart, doesn't mean his faults are any less annoying. I guess I can see where it came from, but for me it's normal. Maybe being able to hold extreme opposites at the same time is a quality more easiely possessed by Geminis, I don't know.

Maybe the "funny" part is that I am able to express both emotions? I know for a lot of people, it's not acceptable to be angry. Maybe I'm just tired and hungry and irritable right now, and the feeling of being misunderstood it more than I want to deal with at the moment.

I think I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed with other people's "stuff" lately. I feel like I want to hide out for a while, sit in my office with the door closed and not see anyone for the rest of the day. Maybe I'm depressed that my life is so much plainer than everyone else's. People want to gush about all their exciting plans for the weekend, and me? I have nothing to do. I take Taryn to the park. Or on a walk with the dogs.

I feel like I should be doing more, but I don't want to. I don't want to be tired and hungover at work. I don't want to spend an hour getting ready to go to a club. I want to have coffee with my friends and watch the babies play, but I haven't cultivated friendships like that.

I just feel super-overwhelmed and super-misunderstood today. I have clients calling for updates on cases, I have people wanting to tell me about their lives, their friends, their pregnancies, and I just need to recoup alone for a little while.

Sorry.

I feel like a sponge today, already full of other people's water, and I need to dry out a bit to make room for myself. I need some quiet time. It's not that I don't care, really, I think I might care too much, and carry too much, and I don't have much time to talk about myself and my baby, my marriage ... except on here. Sad, eh? And I know it's not healthy, so I'm trying to change it, but today, I just don't have the energy. I don't have the energy to focus on myself and definitely not to focus on anyone else.

*sigh*

It's 10 am on a beautiful Monday morning. I'm not feeling too sick anymore, I have the day off work, Taryn just went down for a nap after we had fun cleaning up her room, it's a perfect day so far.

And I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.

I hate this feeling. I hate knowing I'm missing a beautiful day because my neurotransmitters are out of whack. I'm supposed to go on a hike with Nonny today, and the baby, and I just don't want to. I don't want to prepare myself to see the world. I know I'll feel better once I've showered and gotten out of the house, but that's the hardest thing to do right now.

I think it's almost harder to be depressed and know that I'm depressed. At least if I was unaware, I could nurse my feelings in the privacy of my bedroom, pretend that I don't know what will make me feel better, pretend that if i just stay hidden, in the dark, that tomorrow the sun might peek out at me again. But I can't do it. I can't intentionally make myself suffer, as much as I may want to, when I know what to do to feel a little better.

*sigh*

Off to the shower. Off to wash this darkness off of me, and hopefully if I can pretend long enough that this little cloud over my head isn't really there, then it will go away soon.

What am I?

I'm on both sides of the fence at once.

I don't balance anything, rather, I swing wildly from one extreme to the next.

I love and abhor simultaneously.

I can change my mind in a matter of seconds, from wholheartedly feeling one way to defending the other to the death.

I'm not normal.

I feel most alive when I'm angry.

I rarely ever feel truly happy.

***

I used to blame these wild extremes that co-exist within me on hormones. Then maybe it was because I was bipolar. And now... now I don't know. Now I am who I am.

***

I'm a bitch, but possibly the best friend you could have.

I'm rude and arrogant and self-conscious.

I'm painfully honest and conscientous to a fault.

I'm the hardest-working slacker I know.

I feind for praise and cower under attention.

***

I'm miserable.

Stuck

Taryn was crying a little while ago, and while I usually don't go in at this time of night she was a bit more hysterical than normal so I popped my head in and found her standing with the crib rails in a death-crip. Seems like she was able to pull herself up, but couldn't figure out how to get back down.

*****

In a similar way, I'm feeling stuck in my own life. I feel like I've put some much time and enegy into some specific friendships, and as much as I just want to bail, I can't figure out how to do it.

I'm pissed at myself about my choice of friends. I'm pissed I didn't see some of them for who they were until it was too late. And while I could always just let go of the friendships, I'm not one to cultivate too many at the same time, and I'm scared to be left alone.

I'm scared of having no one to call when the shit hits the fan, because the people left in my circle have their own lives and their own issues, and I've got a whole boatload of issues all to myself that I don't want to have to give a backstory on before I can rant.

I'm scared of being lonely and making Taryn so much the focus of my life that I screw up hers.

I'm scared of feeling like a loser because I don't have anyone at all.

And I'm also scared to keep these relationships going when I know they aren't good for me, and I know they make me feel like shit but I keep them around, and what in the fuck does that say about me?

Nobody's Valentine

I was taking my shower this evening, and felt this overwhelming grief and sadness. I don't know why, but I'm just feeling depressed and hopeless right now.

I feel like a jerk to complain, but with V-day coming up, I just feel really lonely. I know there are those folks out there who really have no one, and at least I can count on a box of cheap chocolates from Safeway when P gets home. I guess I just keep hoping that one day he'll do something for me, something special without me hinting at it first.

I just wish I was someone's favorite.

I think it started coming up talking to Diana at work today, and telling her that my supervisor, who is very on top of things, just completely blows me off when I ask for help. He gets back to everyone else so quickly, but completely forgets to email me back, or sign off on my vacation, or answer my questions. And I don't go to him for much because I'm not the person to keep bugging and bugging until I get an answer, and with him it seems like that is what I have to do to get even a simple reply.

Fuck me and my pity-party. I'm just sad and lonely tonight. Tomorrow it's sure to be worse with the inevitable question, "What did your husband get you for V-day?"

And I have one of two answers. I can lie, and say he hasn't given it to me yet, or lie and say "we" decided not to do anything so we could save up our money for our anniversary party next month. The other answer would be to tell the truth and say that he never does shit for me without my asking for something specifically, and even then sometimes gets too busy to follow through. Then I'd have to grin and bear the uncomfortable condolences from co-workers who's partners make them a fancy dinner, or buy them expensive jewelry, or take them on exotic trips.

Joy, oh-FN-joy.

Even complete A-hole husbands who fuck up 364 days out of the year will send their wives flowers tomorrow. And I'm left with nothing.

Again.

Like always.