What are you going to do?

What are you going to do?

What’s your plan after graduation?

And what are you going to do with your degree?

I get asked that question so much.  Too much.  I want to scream at everyone that I have no clue.  I had no clue when I was eighteen years old and in college and I have no idea now…. maybe even less of an idea.  I am forty-one years old and I have no idea who I am.

Graduation… ah graduation.  18 days away and I literally feel like no one cares. My inlaws doted on my husband all weekend, acting like he was made of glass because of “all the work” he had been doing for school;  My mother in law narrowing her eyes at me asking what I have been doing to be so tired.  As if I hadn’t been up until 3am every night for the past 3 months trying to stay on top of a workload I can’t handle. I am so tired I can barely function.  I am so overwhelmed I waffle from angry to so sad it’s unbearable. And graduation? Well my husband and “so busy” he can’t make it a priority to schedule 2 hours into his day to watch the children so I can pick up my cap and gown.  My mother HAS to go camping – unless there is an issue with her calf that’s to be born that will keep her home that weekend- why even bother.  No one cares- Im not even sure if I do.  I mean what I care about is the fact that no one seems to care.  I know my sister probably won’t make the trip up, she will have just made the trip the weekend before, and I am not reminding my mother in law she just ruins every day she’s around anyway.  Maybe I just won’t go.  Why would I want to waddle up the stage round faced in front of everyone anyway.  Besides I made this really cute countdown, and now, it’s gone.  It was on my shelf next to my desk, and it’s disappeared, maybe it’s a sign.

The evil gremlin inside me is trying to convince me to not do anymore work in my classes, to just not finish to get what I get for grades… It sounds so inviting.  I just want to go to bed and never get out of it again.

Yup, I am feeling sorry for myself again this is why I hardly write anymore, I feel like no one wants to read about some whiney American forty-something woman who can’t seem to get her life together and stop feeling like shit.

 

Something else people without OCD don’t think of… OR dueling diagnoses (NOT dual diagnoses) OR bad puns on a Thursday night…

My little one is sick.  Her fever was 103.6 tonight.  Her little lips were all red and chapped looking.  She was lethargic (which for anyone who knows my spitfire is NOT normal).  She sat with Daddy dozing on and off all evening. It’s 11:23pm.  We finally tucked her in for the night.  I sit here at my computer after washing my hands for about the billionth time today (they are bleeding and burn) And my anxiety kicks in…. I sit here worried that her fever will spike in the night and I won’t know.  What if she has a seizure? (She never has but still) What if she really needs me? What if something bad happens… something too scary to name…. So the anxiety in me wants to make up a bed on her floor, or crawl into bed with her and sleep, and then my OCD chimes in and says WOAH WOAH WOAH slow down there anxiety train you are not doing that.  Do you know what germs you could be exposing us to? What if she has strep? Influenza? Or any one of another million other horrific diseases????? Then anxiety fights back with oh yeah well if something bad happens, then it’s all your fault and you will feel guilty forever and ever… did you SEE the episode of good doctor the other day?  The mom? the car accident? She will feel guilty forever! OCD fires back… the GERMS…….

Oh the fights in my head……

Graduation…

Duh duh duh duh duh duhhhhh….. were you singing it in your head?

I got a letter in the mail today about graduation. I can’t decide what I want to do about graduation. I don’t know if I want to go. On the one hand I want to show it to all the people who thought I couldn’t do it. I want to say “do I shine now?” But they probably won’t even be there so….. At the same time squeezing my fat body into a cap and gown, be in a huge room with thousands of people, hear my name read off, have to walk across a stage, shake hands with multiple people…. I’m starting to panic just thinking about it. I feel the walls closing in.

I feel the walls closing in anyway. I feel like I am drowning. I can’t seem to get my head above water….

In an effort to be more productive….

The other day I was thinking about how much time I spend scrolling up and down my newsfeed, and refreshing over and over again.  I decided to shut off all notifications of facebook (but not messenger since that’s my main means of communication with just about everyone).  I moved the app to an unused page of my phone screen.

Poof.  Less facebook = so much more time for everything else right?  WRONG.  Haven’t been to facebook in 2 days so far.  But I find other ways to waste my time- staring at the kitchen clock works well.  As does laying my head on my laptop.  Oh Oh and sitting staring into space.  There’s not shortage of time wasters in my vicinity.

I have had super duper anxiety lately, and yet very little affect.  I just have no motivation to even move my face… but my legs are jiggling like crazy under the table….

I need to get motivated and get through this semester then – graduation at which time I can commence sleeping in my chair all day again.

Fat.

We went to the store the other day and hubby told me the other day while we were at Wal-Mart to buy myself some clothes.  We had a little extra money and he knows I have like 3 shirts, 2 pairs of pants, and a jacket that won’t zip.  So I said ok.  I picked out about 4 shirt on clearance (all less than 7 dollars!), and a new winter jacket (also on clearance less than 30 bucks!).  The jacket is great, as are 2 of the shirts, but the other two are too small.  They are all the same size- a size bigger than I have ever had my life and they still don’t fit.

In theory I want to lose weight.  I have more than 100lbs to lose. In theory I make all these plans of how I will lose the weight, and I wake up in the morning and it just seems too much.  Too much work.  Too much thinking.  Too much tracking.  Too much time.  Just too much.

But then I don’t.  And I hate myself.  Which makes me want to eat – because it’s comforting and one of my drugs of choice.  And then I hate myself for overeating.  So I eat more…. and the circle goes round and round.

And that leaves me- fat, miserable, and hating myself.

So what do I do? If I knew I would do it.  But instead I get on the hamster wheel day after day and do the same cycle over and over.   For how long? Who knows.

Whipping Girl…

I am sick of life. I am sick of being the butt of every joke. I’m sick of all of it.

I’ve made some comments to my children about the fact that they constantly pick on me with “jokes”. Once in a while is funny, multiple times a day is harassment. They take my phobias and terrorize me with them- funny once, not funny after the 4th or 5th time in an hour.

Every appointment Big One has with his counselor is spent bashing me. I keep him on a tight leash. I expect too much of him. I give too much schoolwork. Every.single.time it’s about me.

This past weekend at his youth group retreat he made a very inappropriate joke about something he didn’t even know what it was- he had heard it at school, people laughed so he used it for his comedy. It then commenced a talk from the pastor. This was autism at its finest. We talked and talked about it last night he was so mad. Screaming. Yelling. And yet when he went to the counselor this morning they discussed me- and all the ways I fail.

I’m done. So freaking done.