Oh Mother Where Art Thou?

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I am at the gym today just going about my workout…in a fabulous and full of energy mood actually, when my phone shuts off my pandora music and starts to alert me that someone is calling.

It’s my mother.

And I know the only reason she was calling is because she has read my blog post that morning and was feeling guilty that she has pretty much been an absentee mother my entire life and now is doing the same with her grandchildren.

I had written a blog post that morning (on another blog that I write on) about the fact that my husband and I pretty much have no support from any of our parents when it comes to our kids.

My husband doesn’t have a dad, my dad is too much of a playboy that I don’t think I would trust the care of my children to him, my husband’s mom lives 6 hours away and can’t afford to take time off from work, but as for my mom…well my mom is retired…lives 5 hours away…it takes one freeway for her to get here…and yet she has only been here once this year and that was to bring my nephew for a visit so that my brother and his wife could take a week to Vegas.

Now…let me back up to earlier in the year when I had asked my mom if she could please come stay with the kids for a couple nights, during my husband’s time off, so that him and I could go have a couple nigh to ourselves, to celebrate our anniversary, in the city which is 2 hours away.  She said she would look at her schedule and get back to me.  Next thing I know she’s headed out with my nephew during a time that my husband had to work the entire time she was going to be here.

Therefore, once again, as she always does…she catered to my brother.  My brother has always been her favorite.  And personally I don’t really care that he has always been her favorite….I also have a sister that would be her second choice.  Funny thing is I am her first born but she has always relied on me pretty to much deal with everything and anything on my own.  Even though she begged me for years to have children.  Even going as far as to make snide comments about the only reason I didn’t want to have kids is because I was so vain about my body.  I never did tell her that I was told by a doctor that I would have to take fertility drugs in order to conceive.  I figured fuck her and her ignorant comments she doesn’t need to know.

So now I know that she is going to call and try to make up for the fact that she never did make it out here and I never did ask her again.  I asked her once and she should know that I never ask for anything unless I really need it.  I have never asked for anything from that woman since the first time I got a job babysitting and doing a paper route at the age of 14.

I even paid her rent while I was a senior in high school.

There’s a long story that goes along with my mother that I will save for another blog post, but I hate the fact that she pretty much ruined my day by calling me (she hasn’t called me in months) and now I really don’t want to call her back because I know that it’s just going to turn into me being snide and telling her that I don’t need her pity.

**Stares at bottle of wine sitting on the counter and contemplates gathering up some liquid courage**

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Walking The Line

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I am walking on a thin line these days…

How am I suppose to explain to you what’s going on in my head if I can’t even understand it myself?

You ask me why I am crying after my daughter spills a bowl of cereal on the floor and I yell at her.  Because the anger was towards you and not her.

And then you try and hug me and ask me what is wrong.  This would have been fantastic had I have felt any compassion in the hug.  Instead it just felt like a stranger hugging me.  As a matter of fact a stranger probably would have done it better.

And then you got angry because it didn’t somehow instantly fix me.  Then you just blew up and began yelling at me like somehow that was a better option to relieve the situation.  Newsflash asshole, yelling at me while I am in the midst of a breakdown is not a good idea.

When both of us finally calm down I come to you to talk but you shut me out.  You say you are done talking about it and don’t want to ruin anymore of YOUR day.  Like somehow my day has just been a pleasantry of remarkable events.

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I need you to be patient and understand that my moments of outbursts.  The moments I overthink something to death.  The moments of bitchiness.  The moments of whatever is going on in my head are just moments and will pass.  And don’t you think that if I knew how to make them stop I would???  That’s the problem with people not understanding mental health.  They think there is a switch that can just be turned off.  Like it’s so simple.  It’s not. that. simple.

At some point I am going to tell you that you either need to learn to deal or hit the road.  I just haven’t gotten to that point yet.

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Drowning Into Crazy

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It’s been 3 weeks since our big discussion about wanting to change the problems of this marriage…starting with ourselves.

You insisted that we both needed to start exercising so we went and joined the gym.  You have gone 3 times.  I have worked out everyday.  I realize you work, but when you have 4 days off and only go to the gym one of those days and the other 3 sit in front of the tv, it makes me want to punch you in the face.

If you don’t want to exercise that’s fine but don’t sit around whining about the fact that you have gained weight and don’t feel good about yourself.  If you have the power to change that then do it or shut the fuck up about it.

Your quitting drinking only lasted about a month.  Truth is I don’t mind if you want to tie one on every once in a while but when you stay out late drinking and then wake up the next day with a hangover and decide to have some “hair of the dog” which then continues all day, which now has turned into an over 24 hour drinking binge…that is not ok with me.  NOT OK.

I took a walk this morning wanting to clear my head.  For some reason Pandora kept playing these love ballads in my ear and it’s pretty hard to walk in 28*F weather with tears streaming down your cheeks turning into tiny pieces of ice freezing to my face.  But for some reason I just couldn’t change the station…it was like part of me wanted to listen to them.  Like I wanted to be reminded that YOU ARE HURTING ME!  You haven’t done a single thing you promised.  You’ve changed nothing and I have been working so hard to work on my broken self.

Towards the end of my walk I started to realize that physically I am getting stronger everyday but mentally I am still falling down a rabbit hole.  I started to think about the paths I have taken in my life…the people I destroyed and hurt.  Are you my payback for all the mistakes I have made.  Is this constant pain you are causing me some kind of karma for all the pain I have caused…hearts I have broken?  Do I somehow deserve this?

I thought about the 3 little people we have created and how much I am failing them by trying to live on this emotional roller coaster with you.  I just don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending how strong I am on the outside when inside the depths of my mind I’m slowly drowning into crazy.

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You Can’t Help Those Who Refuse To Help Themselves

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I have always been raised to only help those who want to help themselves.  To never borrow money that you can’t afford to lose.  And to always work hard at being the best you can be.

This morning my husband’s mother text him asking to borrow money….again.  In the 7 years that I have been with him we have given her 2 paid for vehicles and borrowed her money a few times…not to mention when she would come watch her grandchildren so we could go somewhere overnight we would pay her!  Pay her like she was a babysitter instead of a grandparent!  Really?

Now before you go thinking that I must be a real bitch let me tell you a little background about my mother-in-law.  She’s made bad choices her whole life.  Never learning from her mistakes and just moving on to the next mistake.  The man she was married to when my husband was a teenager beat the shit out of my husband to near death and did she leave the son of a bitch?  No my husband left home and started taking care of himself before he was even legally an adult.

The abusive asshole later died in a house fire.  Funny how karma works sometimes.

So what does my mother-in-law do?  She ends up marrying the abusive asshole’s best friend and having a daughter.  And to add to it…the best friend is an alcoholic and doesn’t work.

Fast forward to now…my mother-in-law works.  And she supports the alcoholic, his friend who is also an alcoholic and doesn’t work, and my 20-year-old sister-in-law who for some reason feels that her goal in life is to sleep until noon and then sit her lazy ass on the couch all day entertained by her drunk father and his drunk friend.  Oh and did I mention that my father-in-law smokes cigarettes too?  So between the daily intake of alcohol and cigarettes I can only imagine what that must be costing.

So rather than putting her foot down and telling them that she will no longer be paying for anything for any of them (they are all perfectly capable of working) she now needs to borrow money…again…from us.  Us over here supporting a family of 6.

And lately because we have encountered more expenses I have actually thought about putting my youngest child in full-time daycare so that I can return to work.

It upsets me so much that I feel like I just want to disconnect from his family and all the drama.  There is so much more to this story that I will save for another time.  For now I just felt like venting because my husband will just give her the money, won’t say anything, all while I am over here wanting to send his 20-year-old sister an email telling her that it’s time for her to get off her lazy ass and get a job and start helping out with the bills if she is going to live there.  I have always had a strong work ethic so it upsets me when I see people who are healthy and capable of working and just choose to be lazy.  Laziness is unacceptable.

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What Triggered The Anxiety?

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When the doctor asked me what triggered my anxiety I wasn’t quite sure what to tell him.  I knew exactly what it was but how was I supposed to explain to him that my husband got drunk one night and decided to threaten me (which he had never done before) and it triggered memories of my abusive stepfather.

I wasn’t prepared to answer tons of questions about what’s been going on between my husband and I.  Truth is he has never been “suggestive” abusive.  Sure he gets angry but I have never felt threatened.  I blamed it on the booze and swept it under the rug.

My husband agreed to quit drinking and so far hasn’t touched a drop.  That was a month ago.

When I met my husband he was sober and for 6 of the 7 years we have been together he was sober.  And even when I have seen him drunk he had never once been a mean drunk…not ever.  So I am still baffled as to why on this particular Sunday he decided to turn into a real douche bag.

I know we had been having a lot of problems because I wasn’t wanting to by intimate as much mostly due to the fact that I had been on anti-depressants for so long that they had suppressed everything.  I didn’t care about anything except just getting through the daily routine of life so that I could go to bed.

I started to like the fact that he was gone working all the time so that I wouldn’t have to deal with him constantly nagging me about sex.  Sometimes I think that the fact he nagged me all the time about it was the reason I was so withdrawn from him.  I could feel myself endlessly thinking to myself, “Why don’t you just play a little hard to get buddy?”.  And when he would drink it would be even worse.  And somehow I was supposed to have sex with someone who could barely stand up.

After that particular Sunday I tried everything I could to get the anxiety under control.  I tried meditating, yoga, chamomile tea, hot baths, lots of breathing exercises but nothing worked.  I wasn’t eating, I couldn’t sit still, I couldn’t focus, and the only reason I was sleeping was because of Ambien.  Like I seriously couldn’t wait to take the Ambien so that I could finally get some relief and relax enough to fall asleep.  But I didn’t stay asleep…I would sleep for 4 or 5 hours and then wake up in a state of pure panic.

It was ruining me.

Finally after 3 weeks of it I had had enough and went to the doctor.  I also joined the gym.  The meds make me a little loopy but the gym gives me back my energy and the state of panic, although it isn’t gone, is at a controllable state.

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