One of Those Days

You ever have one of those days where your mind is full of stuff but it’s so jumbled, you can’t figure anything out and why your head (figuratively) hurts you so much that it makes you sick to your stomach?  Or maybe the problem isn’t a bunch of stuff but your mind has nothing going on at all and it still does that?  I’ve been having a couple of those days lately.  I’ve been taking my medicine (speaking of which…), things seem to be totally normal for me, but I can’t shake this feeling.  My heart aches, my stomach is turning and I’m on edge.

The year, on the whole so far, has been shit, starting with the loss of my dad.  Mind you, the European trip was fabulous.  But it even seems like everyone around me is under the black cloud hanging over my family’s heads.  I know I’m being vague, but I’m not getting into all of the problems going on right now, since a lot of them do not have to do with me exclusively.  I have a couple things to look forward to:  new haircut, some new ink, a beach vacation.  I’m lucky in some aspects of my life.  Time is going fast, but not fast enough.  I know I shouldn’t wish life away, but I want some of these things that will make me happy to come faster.  I guess I’m sort of in a depressed state, even though I can’t be because I need to be there for my family, who all have their own sets of problems.  I need to be strong, a guiding force, someone to lean on, someone to cheer them up.  I try.  I really do.  But life is pounding away at me without lube right now and I can’t pinpoint the reason or reasons why.

I keep finding random coins in odd places and I know my dad is around me (laugh, if you will.  I still believe it.)  But what is he trying to say or do?  I can always guess, and for the most part, be spot on to what would come out of his mouth, if he said anything at all about something.  But we weren’t normally people to sit down and have a one on one chat.  That’s what my Grandmama was for; unfortunately, I don’t have access to her wisdom either.

I can’t think of any more to write at this time – like i said, jumbled mess or totally blank.  I just want this feeling to go away and I wish someone would tell me how to do that.  Until next time, here’s hoping for better days…

I (Don’t) Wanna Be Sedated

I was talking to my husband just a little while ago, when I almost said out loud to him “I saw my dad today.”  Which, as you all know, is impossible.  I don’t know why the thought popped up in my head, considering I didn’t even see anyone resembling him today.  I’ve thought about him – it’s hard not to these days.  But that’s okay.

I ended up telling him my thought anyway, for no reason.  It kind of brought me down and I wanted to have some context, possibly to explain, in case he noticed.  My eyes started to tear up but I couldn’t let myself cry.  My body shook a bit, but I just couldn’t release it.  In the past 3 1/2 weeks, I’ve wondered if my medications are keeping me from letting it all go.  I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone by having that agonizing, gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, seizure-like cry.  I want it for me.  Yes, I’m being selfish, but I need this.  Is it really the meds keeping me from it?

No, I’m not going to go off my medications just for that.  I know I need them to keep me level.  But isn’t there some kind of loophole for me to go through to achieve what I want?  Let me hide in my closet, with a wad of tissues and no one around so I can just have it out with myself.  This is part of my grieving process.

Queen of the Castle

No, I haven’t done a 180° on you.  I’m just recalling a phrase I used a week or so ago with my husband.  I was explaining to him (and trying desperately to convince myself) that I’m the head of this household, in looser terms.  This WAHM isn’t the breadwinner of the family by any means, but I would like to think that it is my duty to be in charge of the house proper.  Problem is, I’m still having trouble convincing myself of that, especially when I’m being bossed around by a 3-year-old, among other things.

I don’t know if it’s a sad thing to think of maintaining my house as a job, but having a job made me feel important.  Yes, I feel important, for the most part, in my daughters’ lives.  I say “for the most part” because, if you read the previous post, you’ll understand at this point I’m not feeling very important at all.  (Although, I am doing a bit better and not as “paralyzed” as yesterday.)  I worked for at the same organization for 15 years.  Since having my first daughter, I haven’t worked outside of the home, with the exception of a part-time 3 week stint for the job I’m working now, for 3 1/2 years.  It starts to do a number on you.

I’m not sure where I’m trying to go with this, other than to get something off my chest.  Maybe to explain my crash and burn from yesterday.  Maybe even to see if someone has a trick up their sleeve to make me actually believe that I run this place.  Other moms have multiple children, pets (who are practically like additional children), work from home and still find it in themselves to cook fabulous meals in their idyllic homes.  I’m not being a smart ass.   I want to know how it’s done.  I can’t say I don’t have the time, because I know I do.  When I’m down in the dumps like this, the clock ticks by ever-so-slowly.  The time is there; the motivation and/or experience is/are not.

Did I get myself in too deep?  I mean, it’s too late now.  I would normally say that I’m in it to win it (stupid, yes but truthful).  But did I?  People used to come to me for help/advice/lessons because I knew what I was doing.  Dammit, I was left in charge of buildings too many times to count.  Now I can barely tell my ass from a hole in the ground.  What the hell happened to me?  (Didn’t I ask something like that in the last post?)

Since yesterday, I’ve had quite a few people contact me, concerned for my well-being.  I thank all of you for your thoughts and apologize for your worries.  Like I said in my last post, I’ve been through worse than this.  And I’m still here.  You can’t get rid of me that easily.  I’m not out of the woods yet, but I’m working on it.  Getting blindsided like that can really send you into a downward spiral right quick.  But I appreciate the love a great deal.

I think I’ve clichéd the shit out of this post, so I’ll call it quits for now.  Have to go see who is going to deliver an average dinner to my imperfect home.


Falling Apart at the Seams

I feel like I’m at a breaking point again.  Oh, I’ve been at worse points than this.  But you go for so long in a manic or even mixed state and then – BAM! – you become depressed and “paralyzed”.  You know you have so much stuff that needs to be done, but none of it matters, even though part of you is willing to give it a try.  It’s just the rest of your body doesn’t know how to explain to that little percentage of you on how to get things done.

What makes it even worse is when someone sees or knows you’re upset and they practically treat you like you have the plague.  Don’t shed any tears!  Make no mention of the “D” word!  You’ll be fine!  Go take a nap or something!  No.  It doesn’t work.  Even if it did, I can’t do that with 2 children around.  There are others depending on me and I’m at my worst.  How can I possibly help them?  I do, of course, but that’s as far as I get.  My mind and body are screaming for help!

I hate this motherfucking feeling.  I was better than this.  Really.  I was.  I could say “then I had kids”, but that’s like blaming them for my faults.  Yes, I became a mom, but I’m only supposed to get better as a person because of that, right?  This is coming out all wrong.  Wrong or not, I’m not editing to make myself look better than I am.  This is me, breaking apart, throwing out whatever comes to mind.

I need help.  I need the people around me for help.  I know I’ve gotten through worse before, some of it on my own.  It just seems like it’s getting worse as time goes on, which is not a good thing for me to believe.  I want to feel needed and important again, not given a small pat on the back and sent on my way.  Don’t ignore me.  Please.



I hate what’s wrong with me.  I especially hate it when I haven’t leveled off or even when I’m manic.  I already felt like ripping my skin off (not a new feeling), although I think my face brush took off a layer or two so that helped.

I’m not fit to be a mom.  I’m not fit to be a wife.  I’m just a waste of space.

No, nothing is going to happen.  I’ll be fine.  I always am.  These sentences just keep repeating themselves in my head and I had to get them out.  I CAN’T STAND the way I feel sometimes.  And this is such a shit post.  But I’m keeping it.  Not so you feel sorry for me.  I needed to get it out.

I just hate not knowing what I’m actually fit for.