Do you ever…

Do you ever just want to say screw it all get in the car and just drive?  That’s how I feel right now. I want to get in the car turn up the music and just drive till I run out of gas. Of course my OCD and anxiety wouldn’t let that happen, I’d need to have every moment of the trip planned.  But the fact remains is that I’m exhausted from living today when I wasn’t at PT I was filling out paperwork.  Paperwork for mileage reimbursement paperwork for respite care paperwork for records releases.  And the thing is it took me all day it shouldn’t of taken me all day but it did. This is the first time since I got up this morning that I have been able to ice my ankle and my hip.

When I got up my daughter needed help cleaning her room we have been fighting with her all week and her ADD makes it difficult for her to be able to sort and figure out how to even start so I had to sit there and tell her every single item and want to do with it my OCD wanted me to just do it for her but unfortunately I cannot bend over for three months so I had to just sit therefor over two hours and tell her where to put everything.  

When that was finally done I want in my bedroom to get dressed and my husband reminded me that I had PT I said yes 11 he said it’s 1049. Cue major anxiety attack.  Cue not being able to find clothes.  Cue screaming at husband because he couldn’t find them either. Got to PT about 10 minutes late which didn’t seem to be a problem and she worked me hard.  I did a lot of good work and I’ve made a lot of progress so that’s good I’m really hoping to be rid of the crutches by next Wednesday.

After PT I came home and got the mail and started in with all the phone calls and paperwork work that I had to do

Then hubby made dinner for Little one and I had cocoa pebbles (yes I’m back on that)…. i HATE mealtime with a passion.  I hate the coaxing to eat one more bite, to use your fork, to use your napkin, to sit back up at the table.  I wanted to gauge my eyes out with my spoon. 

Today is an angry day I guess. 

Until next time…. 

Father’s Day

Father’s Day brings a sort of division in my mind. First and foremost the honoring of my husband as a father.  That’s the easy part.  He’s a wonderful father, husband, caretaker, and friend.  He is the best of everything.  I love him more than life itself. So a day to honor him, I think it’s perfect.  In fact I bought him his dream knife for Father’s Day- a Benchmade Osborne.  His reaction was perfect “you bought a Benchmade?”  His face was lit up like kid at Christmas.   I knew I had done good, and I hoped that he realized I did that because he is the most wonderful partner.  Especially lately, he has been taking such good care of me, I can’t even begin to thank him, there are no words that I could use to express my gratitude.

The other side is honoring my own father.  It’s hard to honor a man who hasn’t been much of the kind of father I wanted and needed in my life.  But on the other hand he is my father.  And as much as I want to hate him for what he’s done to me I don’t – I love him because he’s my father.

But I do have a man in my life that has been a father to me for about 20 years.  When my mother and father split up my mother became in involved with a man she had known her whole life, a man who was her “boyfriend” when she was a little girl.  This man has been a wonderful father to me.  He has done all the things a father does.  He has given me tough love, and sensitive love.  He’s been there to catch me when I fall as well as let me fall to find my own way and make my own mistakes.  He didn’t have to do any of this. I am no blood relation to him, but he CHOSE me to be HIS daughter not just the daughter of the woman he loves.  I hope that he knows how much I love and appreciate him. He is not my “step father” he is my “dad”.

So to all the dads out there, awesome dads, men who tried but came short as fathers, and men who didn’t have to be dad’s to little girls and boys that came into their lives, Happy Father’s Day.  And of course Happy Father’s Day to my Heavenly Father who knew me before I was formed.

I remember now…

I was having a hard time with my train of thought my last post and I remembered minute ago when I really wanted to write about…

As I was looking through my Facebook feed and all the people having barbecues are going to the beach or camping and I was laying on the couch covered under my fleece blanket in my protective little shell I was thinking how badly I felt for my children that their summer is going to be their mother not wanting to leave the house their mother recovering from multiple surgeries. Thankfully even though he hates the beach hubby has said he will bring them to the lake nearby so they’ll get to do their swim lessons and play with their friends. But every year we do a nice memorial day barbecue kick off and have a fire and not this year I just didn’t have it in me.  Hubby neither. His depression isn’t improving either.  At least big one got to go over to his friends house tonight watch a double feature on a big screen outside and have a cook out.  Thank God for good friends/neighbors.

An Unwelcomed Blast from the Past`

I was minding my own business tonight, folding all the laundry that I had gotten behind on folding- though it was clean and waiting in baskets for me. When I heard the familiar ding of a facebook message.  Of course I checked and when I saw the name it was one I didn’t recognize.  She was asking me about my dad and his condition, because she hadn’t heard from him in a while.  Apparently, she hadn’t heard about his amputation, dialysis, etc. I noticed that she worked for a company that would have had dealings with my father.

Wrong.  I started the message with “Im not trying to be rude, but I am not sure who you are….” but then in occurred to me.  A memory came to me.  An unwanted memory.  A memory that brought me back to being a 13 year old.  The message was from the woman that my father had an affair with back in 1991/1992.  This woman was a nuclear bomb in our family.

Looking back I am thankful that she and my father had an affair, it may have been the beginning of the end, but I am thankful it ended.  I had prayed my entire childhood that my father and mother would split up, there was so much fighting, so many times he hurt us.  If he hadn’t had the affair when he did, my mother wouldn’t have been tempted to take up a relationship with the man I now call my step dad even though they aren’t married. So yes, I am thankful that she blew up my family.

So what did I do with the message?  Well, I updated her, let her know where he is, the things he’s gone through (the reader’s digest version) and how to get a hold of him.

I then called my sister and told her.  She told me I was more gracious than she would have been. She wouldn’t have said anything nice to her.  After that I called my mother. I felt like I needed to be honest with her, and tell her.  My loyalties lie with her of course. I told her what happened and I told her what I did.  I made sure she wasn’t upset that I helped this woman.  She said she didn’t care, and I believe her that she didn’t care, she is long over my father. Following all that I called my dad, to let him know. He was worried I was upset. I told him this was 26 years ago.  That what happened, happened.  My father was upset that “but I hurt you and mom, and I never meant it to happen”…. I said dad, stop.  And then he was all worried how she found me.  I told him it didn’t matter, that she found the right person because I would give her what she asked for, because I don’t hold grudges….

Which I guess isn’t entirely true, I don’t know what you would call letting your past haunt you, but I know I am not really angry with people in my past who hurt me.  I just carry the weight of all the bad things that happened. And when I told my father that I wasn’t upset I wasn’t 100% true. The time frame when my dad was having an affair, was a horrible time in our lives.  I remember being only 12 years old, and my dad, being the jerk that he was told my 9 year old sister and I,  that we couldn’t have a Christmas tree because it was too much money.

Now let me tell you, growing up money was never an issue, we always had enough, most of the time more than enough.  We went out to eat a couple times a week, we went on nice vacations.  He was just being a jerk.  Being himself.  But it scared us as kids that we wouldn’t have a tree.  My sister and I shared a paper route, and we took the money we earned from that and I made an envelope titled “Christmas Tree Fund” and we put our paper route money in that envelope. When it came time for the Christmas Season, we handed the envelope full of cash, with more than enough money for a Christmas tree to my dad and told him we could get a Christmas tree now, because we had the money.

This was definitely an unwanted memory.  A memory that caused anxiety.  A PTSD memory definitely.  I remember that time as a time full of fear, full of hushed voices as well as raised ones.  Voices of hurt and anger.  Voices of not understanding why this would happen, why my mother wasn’t enough. I think a lot of my lack of trust, my worry that my husband will end up unfaithful is based on this time in my life.

My father told my sister and I that he and this woman were friends.  We went on picnics at her farm together my sister and I and my dad and her.  I got to ride her horse.  We all went bowling.  We met up at a local fair. I suspected there was more to the story than friendship and it was confirmed one night when I heard my mother on the phone.

For years my father denied inappropriate relations with this woman, but finally when I was an adult he admitted that they were intimate and he also told me had he not been unfaithful first, when my mother left him for my stepfather he would have killed them both.

The things that my father would tell me, and still tells me often are some of the things that have messed me up.  I know things no child should know.  I was exposed to things that I should never have been exposed to. And all these things have helped me come to where I am today.  Untrusting, low self esteem, disorted self image and so many other things.

It’s the reason I have anxiety- the worry that a hair would be out of place and my father would beat me, the worry that my bed wouldn’t be able to have a quarter bounced off it, the worry that my toys would be out of place.  The reason I have OCD, because order was the most important thing, because I was anxious that something wasn’t right, so I would have to check and recheck. The reason I am depressed, the reason I have PTSD.  Now I am not blaming my father 100%, there were bullies at school, there were other factors. But I would say my home life was what affected me the most. Home is supposed to be your safe place, your sanctuary, where you are safe, and loved unconditionally.

My home was filled with lies, half-truths, pain, and suffering.  I won’t lie and say every day sucked, we did do fun things, sometimes dad was nice.  But for more days than not, I felt unloved, unwanted, unsafe, like I couldn’t trust the adults in my life (my mom worked a lot, she was the breadwinner and we were alone with dad most of the time).

This has become a lot longer than I intended, so I guess, maybe the message did bother me more than I let on, but I don’t regret what I did, I don’t regret helping her find my dad. That’s who I am, and who God wants me to be, and at least on God I can trust.

So Tired Lately OR Alternate Title Stuff needs to SLOW DOWN

I’m so exhausted.  Today after driving hubby to his eye doctor appointment (he has his eyes dilated so he needs a driver) and running to walmart for last minute things for Big One’s Birthday I showered and I laid down on the couch to listen to a podcast, and 19 minutes into it I was snoring.  I slept through my husband vacuuming until he vacuumed right next to my head LOL.

This week has just been too much for someone with depression. So what’s been having I have been stuffing the depression down, and the anxiety is bubbling up all around the depression plug in my emotions.  I picture a tube where I have all my emotions, and there is a cork in them I open the cork and then stuff down my emotions. But when I stuff the depression down the cork doesn’t fit, so the depression acts as a cork but it allows the anxiety, the OCD and the PTSD leaks out around the depression.

I am actually looking forward to my hip surgery on the 8th, because that will require that I slow down and I get to take some time to let myself start wallowing in my self-pity rest again.

However, I am proud of myself. I was going to buy Big One a cake, then hubby said he and little one would bake him one.  But I got out of my head long enough to make my from scratch cake.  I felt like if I hadn’t done that I might have felt even more depressed if I hadn’t done that for him.

Tomorrow, I have my whole family (minus dad of course) coming to my house to celebrate Big One’s Birthday.  I am so incredibly anxious about it.  There is so many messed up dynamics and messed up relationships that when everyone is together it’s like there is little cliques even though there are only 15 people.  I get so anxious trying to run from clique to clique keeping everyone happy all the time, which is an impossible task. I can imagine that tomorrow night I am going to be exhausted.  And tomorrow morning as I prepare I am going to be anxious, irritable and grumpy.

I guess that’s it for today. I am trying to figure out my new Garmin GPS and how to update the maps. And it’s just about time to get the cake out of the oven.  Today it’s a win. I baked a cake.

 

 

 

Today Sucked…

Today sucked. I could just leave this post at that, but I am going to elaborate as I always do.

Woke up this morning having to rush around to get the kids ready for their medication management appointment and we had to leave earlier than usual because hubby and
I both had to see the chiropractor first.  The best part of the day was her adjusting my neck, because for a couple of hours the muscles in my neck and shoulders (where I keep all my stress) has relief.

At the medication management appointment Big One was good, he is doing well.  No med changes and while he’s in a somewhat manic phase it’s survivable for us all. Good news in my book.

Little one on the other hand, the Ritalin is perfect for her, but she’s not sleeping.  We put her to bed between 8 and 9 and there are nights she’s still up at 11pm when we go to bed, she draws, she looks at books, she plays with her toys, she cuts off her eyelashes (yes she actually did that!!! “as an experiment Mama”).  So they prescribed her Clonidine.  She’s not getting enough sleep, and she is just too hyper to lay down to fall asleep.  But I feel like it’s my fault.  I have no idea why.  Ever since she was little she had a set bedtime of  7:30-8pm and she was really good about going to bed until about 1 year ago.  Now she just won’t sleep.  I am not sure how I feel about it, especially reading about the med, but I trust this doctor, we have been seeing her for years, and I feel like

I was sad all day.  Hubby asked me what my problem was (didn’t phrase it that way), but basically – and I told him I had no idea.  That when I am feeling a certain way there isn’t always a discernible reason. That my feelings come and they are what they are.  Today I just feel like I am in a pit again. When I am like this, it’s like I always have a lump in my throat, and a ball in my stomach upsetting it.  And I fly off the handle at the littlest thing. I felt so bad but I yelled at Big One today for a small offense.  Sometimes I feel like the worst mother in the world, I don’t like who I am, but I am working so hard to get better, but I don’t feel better. At all.

No new OCD rules today at least. Just my normal ones- and the new one from yesterday. So that’s a plus right?

I see both Pollyanna and my med doctor tomorrow.  I feel like my med doctor is going to tell me that I am a problem patient because it’s been 5 months and my depression is not any better.   And I am nervous about what Pollyanna is going to want to talk about, and what she is going to make me do for homework. Anxiety sucks, my brain can’t stop. Ever.

Itching and A Ruined Day

I’m STILL itching.  I never realized how much itching could drive a person crazy until I had all these phantom itches all over my entire body.  The doctor called back and apparently there’s a name for it, when you take these kinds of meds.  She called in another script for hydroxyzine – which helped me sleep before so hopefully it’ll control the itching and help me sleep.  If that happens I might have a somewhat positive day tomorrow.  She also scheduled me for an appointment for Thursday I love how she fits me in whenever I need to see her.

But today was not positive.  And it should have been.  It’s May 8th.  The day my husband and I celebrate between us even more than our wedding anniversary- the day we officially became a couple.  But today was ruined.  Hubby was in a grumpy mood all day long, he was tired, he was impatient, he was just off.  And I think some of it is a reaction to his new meds, but the majority of it is his mother.  She talked to him for over and hour this morning and she berated him, yelled at him, and just was not very nice to him.  This is a common occurrence.  She is not very nice to anyone but she loves to make sure he and I know that she disagrees with 99% of our life choices.  That our children’s issues are our fault.

But that set his day off into a tailspin.  He was just grumpy all day and when he is grumpy all day I can’t stand it. I take it personally, I feel like I should be able to fix it.  And then he is telling me all the things that he is worried about, which increases my anxiety,  I don’t want to know because it makes my anxiety increase through the roof because it’s all things I can’t do anything about.  But at the same time I want to be there for him when he needs to talk, I want to know what he’s thinking about because when he is quiet I get anxious worried that he is mad at me.

My children are fighting, and little one ran away from big one and big one’s worker, and she darted across the street.  We live on a fairly busy road and everyone is irritable, and the kids still arguing, I am not sitting and eating with them, forget that I don’t need that toxicity.

So what should have been a decent day today turned out to be a crappy.  The only good part of today was I got a short nap in. Tonight I am depressed and anxious.  It’s interesting how much the moods of those around me effect my own mood.