Hot Damn!

So I got my disability claim approved.  I got a large sum of money into my bank account before I even knew I was approved.  I’m looking for a new vehicle and have bought some long needed items for the house and have tried to splurge a little on the girls and my husband and I.  It’s nice to feel that sense of stability for a little while.  In the meantime I got a card for Medicare A&B.  Apparently I have medical and hospital coverage under those plans.  I’m not even sure what to think.  When my previous friend, Andra got disability – she got the same thing.  And she was dumbfounded, just like I am.  I’m not sure if the badgercare I had approved for so long is now null and void.  Or if it is in addition.  I don’t know!  Facts I suppose I have to find out.  In the interim… here’s another piece.

I got to see my new electrophysiologist last week.  I talked to him to explain about how I felt it was necessary to look into possible root causes into my sudden cardiac arrest.  I hate feeling like I’m anomaly.  Like there will always be some unexplainable reason to why I am the chosen one for all things suck.  I want to feel as though I have a positive purpose – health wise and others. Speaking of which, my healing crown fell out again and I can’t see the dentist again until Monday.  UGH!  So back to the Electrophysiologist.  He agreed that I should have testing done.  More than my prior EP did.  (Not that I didn’t like him… I really did) So now, I am going to be undergoing a procedure called EP study and drug challenge.  From what I know of this procedure, I am going to be under anesthesia but given specific iv medications that may or may not cause my ICD (internal cardiac defibrillator) to go off.  (And what I hear, it’s like a horse kicks you in the chest when it does) I’m looking at the statement right now from the doctors office.  The things not to do, the things to do, possible overnight bag… etc… etc.  I am scared.  I know I am doing it for my family.  And I hope that through this testing, in part, that maybe I can give an answer to Dianne as well (my long passed on sister). I suspect she may have died the same way I almost did. Maybe I’m making a mountain out of a molehill – but I am scared silly.  I’m literally crying as I write this.  I want to protect my children in whatever means that I know how.  I want to know that if there is something genetic in the line, that they can be protected.  And further on in the future.  That maybe through this, I can make a difference in those future generations lives.  I know it might sound completely cheesy – but it’s all I have right now.

Beyond that, I wish Stacey were here.  She’s the one person I can confide in right now.  She’s unfortunately in Indiana and I am unfortunately here.  I am hoping if and when we buy this new vehicle, that I can travel to visit her in my new ride.  (or at least new to me ride. It better have a good stereo/cd system in it!) My car that I have presently isn’t exactly holding up to it’s old standards.  I know cars get old… but for as much as we would need to put into it, we might as well invest in a newer car.  i hate that.  But honestly – above all, I want 4 doors again!  You have no idea how much!

I’d write more – I just have not much else that I can say.  I’ll think of something!

When the Past Haunts

There are so many people out there that are convinced that the past should be easy to rectify.  I for one am not of the same opinion.  I have been trying to shake my past for some time.  Not necessarily physical abuses that I’ve suffered, but emotional ones.  I have longed to try to find people who I can connect with, only to feel completely terrified of what could come of it.  Not that I would get hurt by them.  My fear is actually how I would look like a complete jack ass.

I called a friend of mine recently.  I think I blogged about it before.  Can’t remember.  Anyway, considering how we have known each other for years – it was awkward.  The whole over the phone interaction was filled with trepidation on my part.  I wanted to make any excuse to get off of the phone.  Not because of her.  Not because of my feeling for her (or lack there of), it was because I didn’t know where I stood in her life.  Hell, I don’t even feel like I deserve people.

I was once forbidden from hanging out with certain people as a kid.  Some that were very close to me.  I had a bad reputation so to speak.  It wasn’t that I was a “bad kid”.  I just made very bad choices given my life experiences.  I was on my own and trying to cope with my heart ache the best way I knew how.  And from the age of 14 on, I had no modeling of what social interactions should be.  My self esteem has ALWAYS been lacking, and I just gave up to a certain degree.  I have also let people define me.  For example.  If they like certain music – I like certain music.  Obviously – there are exceptions to that.  One specific example of what I didn’t like – Nightwish.  Granted, they are a band from Finland!  That excites me to no end.  But the operatic style matched with the heavy metal… it was very much not my speed.  I grew into them, but that is not to say that I would like everything everyone else likes.

I seek approval from others.  I am at a stage in my life where I have no approval from anyone.  In my head, it is a dark and dreary place.  I try to do what is best for others.  Hell, when I can, I go over and beyond what I should be doing.  I need to make sure everyone else is covered should someone else be unable to do the normal chores. Over the years I have gotten tired of trying to delegate certain activities to other people.  Expecting that things would get done.  Many things did, but there were some that did not meet what I needed.  And those few times hit hard.  I felt completely resentful that I would be running around forever.  I would be responsible for never having time for myself.  And when I did have time for myself…. I would just about fall apart.

I would love to make sense of it all.  I would love to just become a different person to some degree.  A person who could be more well adjusted.  Unfortunately I am the polar opposite.  I want to be different than I am.l I just can’t let go of those incredibly painful parts of my teenage years.  My entire foundation that I was supposed to build (in part) my adult years on… completely wiped out from under me.  But hey!  I’m not supposed to be a maladapted person.  I’m supposed to shake it all off!  Like going through a proverbial car wash – except for my emotions and what is in deep.  Once I go through that intense cleaning process – nothing of that past crap will remain.  I know I am not alone with wiping out traumatizing hurts.  If I was, there would be nothing in the psychiatric criteria for diagnosis manual. I would be an anomaly.  It doesn’t make me feel much better that there are – other than the recognition that I’m not alone.  It would be nice if I had more of a support system that I could fully trust.  Without question, without fear.  Instead, I have to be afraid of everyone that comes my way and just hope for the best.

I Want to Move and Depression Continued

I have lived in this apartment for over 10 years.  The carpeting has never been changed (and hadn’t been changed since the tenant before us in the living room).  The landlord doesn’t give a shit about doing certain repairs around our apartment.  However, she expects us to pay a raise in rent.  Yea, okay.  Eric has been writing checks for one penny over our initial agreed amount.  NOT what she wants us to pay.  I think that’s hilarious!

Remembering the man who was murdered through the wall from us (in apartment 7) – basically a group of people came in and beat him with hammers and baseball bats.  He didn’t succumb to his injuries right away, sadly.  He died at the hospital later.  Reason it bothers me?  I woke up to stuff falling off my wall like mad that joins apartment 7.  I’m terrified because the landlord has basically changed things (agreed upon things) for the managers downstairs to the point where they want to move.  The security measures they initially took to keep our neighborhood safe is no longer available.  The cameras have been taken down and who knows whats next.  The landlord is trying to sell off the buildings to the next bidder.  I have no idea what the intention will be with the next landlord.  All I know is that we need to move.

Darrian has said for years that she doesn’t feel safe here.  I was hoping that with the increased security, that things would be able to happen to make her feel safer.  Now, I just feel like it’s an eternal joke.  To some extent.  I have lived in these complexes since I moved to Green Bay in my own apartment since October of 1997.   At the time it was a blessing.  Considering our meager circumstances.  Now, well… things haven’t changed much.

I have a lot of anxiety about what’s next.  Ashleigh will be coming here during spring break next week.  Either the first few days, or the last few days.  Depending on what the foster family may need or desire.  I want to help out where I can.  However, I am not going to go with the full 6 days.  After all, we only see her during the weekends.  And sometimes that is way too much.  Ashleigh is ready to head back home.  I can’t say as I blame her.  We don’t really have many opportunities to be fun.  Between my back aching like an sob, and Eric’s migraines and bipolar – we’re bundles of fun!

I have also been wanting to make life changes.  I want to eat healthier.  Right now, I have my upper and lower dentures.  The lower denture flops around when I am eating to the point that things get stuck in the midsection.  It literally hurts when it does that.  So when I’m eating, I will take it out and go with softer foods.  When I am not eating, I will put it back in.  I am hoping that the permanents will come in soon.  I would love to be able to have the clipped lower denture so I don’t have to worry so much about that happening.  After all, this was the intent with the implants, right?

The state of Michigan fucked me.  Ashleigh’s child support order with myself and her bio dad has been in Michigan for ages.  They could have sent the case to my county’s child support division years ago.  I never intended on moving back to Michigan.  That place is hell!  At least for me, anyway.  Last June, there was a hearing that I didn’t attend.  I was told not to, despite the fact that I told them about the foster care situation and wanting to know if the child support should go to the foster parents, or even if they needed to be involved in the hearing.  The judge decided to take it upon herself to transfer the case to my county’s child support division just recently – EVEN THOUGH Ashleigh JUST turned 18 on February 10, 2014.  Ashleigh’s biological dad is not very …. good at paying child support to say the least.  And he neglected to tell the original child support agency about his change in income status while he was working.  (Our child support agreement was predicated on the idea that Rich had no employment.  And if that changed, he was supposed to notify the state child support agency.  Surprise, surprise…. he never did.) And now, my county’s child support agency caught wind of the amount Rich is supposed to be paying in child support.  Since I just did my six month review for food stamps and medicaid benefits – the agency that deals with economic support sees this order.  And they now count it as guarenteed income.  Therefore, my foodstamps benefits for my family goes down.  I’ll never see a dime from Rich, ever.  And hell, it shouldn’t even go to me given that Ashleigh lives with the foster family and has since mid November of 2012.  Regardless, if Rich were to know about my misfortune – I am sure he would be proud of himself and laugh wholeheartedly at my misery.  That he in fact helped with, whether he knew that or not.  I do so hate that man.

Beyond that, it’s been hard to focus.  My back has returned to the painful state it normally is always in.  I went to the crisis center last night because I had been crying off and on throughout the day.  My emotions were over the top.  I’m still pissed off about being told that Ashleigh should be able to count on when she’s going to be coming over.  That we should be more consistent, despite the technical “suspension” she had one day in a week for two weeks.  Her hygeine is lacking, and her attitudes have been amping up a bit more.  She is continually talking about Sean and wants to get together with him.  The kid who lives with his mom and has aspergers (high functioning autism).  I’m not saying that he’s a bad person.  Firstly, what goes against him is that he was trying to have an online and over the phone relationship with my daughter before she was of legal age.  The things Ashleigh did, well… that’s on her.  And also, Ashleigh doesn’t realize that things are not as easy as they seem.  If Ashleigh moves to Ohio, where he is – she loses all county benefits that have been working so hard to help her.  And Sean and his mother are not going to move here, just because Ashleigh wants that relationship.  On top of that, I think that Ashleigh has been trying to manipulate people into thinking that she’s ahead of the proverbial curve.  She says that she understands certain concepts.  All in all, she says one thing and then completely does a 360 degree turnaround when those individuals aren’t present, and we – the family are.  Ashleigh knows who to try to blindside.  She’s become pretty good at that.  However, we at home see a different side of her.  We see that she flips out because I won’t let her call this guy in Ohio.  I won’t bend over backwards to make things happen for her.. and when she’s bored and I try to give her options, she says no to everything.  When I give her coping mechanisms, she denies them as well.  We are on our last stand with Ashleigh.  If we have one situation where the police gets called on her at our apartment, there will be a no trespass order on Ashleigh.  And who knows if we’ll even be guarenteed a place to live for some time.  The landlord could kick us out – who knows.

And, on top of that, I’m exceptionally lonely.  I’m terrified of people though.  I can’t break out of my shell.  Part of me feels that it isn’t worth it.  The last friendship that I had ended very badly.  Harsh words were said that I took very personally.  (Hell, with what was said – it’s almost impossible NOT to take them personally) And the concept of me opening myself to another relationship/friendship – well…. I don’t know.  Even my existing friendships – I have no idea where I stand.  I’m a blubbering mess when I do talk to them on the phone.  My last conversation was with a high school friend named Missy.  Missy and I were close for YEARS.  I guess at some point things changed.  I accidentally dialed her number – but instead of being rude and hanging up – I decided to tough it out and talk to her.  I felt like I was tripping over my tongue half the time.  I was trying to listen to her and what she said… and a part of me just wanted to fly off the phone.  I am so insecure and terrified.  I don’t know where I stand in ANYONE’s life!  And I hesitate to find out.  I can’t be so bold.  I have two people who I love with all of my being… and that is it.  Unfortunately for me, only one is accessible.  I wish the one that wasn’t WAS closer to me.  She means everything to me.  Like a sister.  Well, let’s pass the technicalities and symantics.  She is my sister, despite the other biological stuff. it’s just the way I feel.

Some days, I wish I could just fall apart – because I know everything that I want to attain is not there.  Everything that I feel will not go away.  I keep falling apart at the seams.  I want to grab on to some level of sanity and run with it.  Unfortunatley that is few and far between.

And, to my husband.  I love him.  Our lives revolve around the girls.  I want us to be able to enjoy each others company.  Between our mental illnesses and physical ailments and appointments, we have no time to just be us.  We are stuck in a place that leaves us without being able to relate to one another.  If you had the lack of income like we do, what would you do?  Laying in bed and watching movies… we do that every night.  What is the difference?  If we sit down and talk, it would revolve around the girls again or our mental illnesses.  There isn’t a lot that we have mutually in common.  I don’t really hang out with his friends because I’m basically a recluse to some degree.  I’m terrified of social situations.  And even if we could go outside, well….. my back screams no.  And at this point, I just want to see some sunshine – and not within the current temperatures we have now.  I want it to be in the 40′s and 50′s again.  I would love to see something like that.  Comfortable!

Moving on, thank you for reading

Your blogging friend,

Janet

Here in Wisconsin

…. it was 50 degrees today!  Calla got a taste for it and decided it was high time to stop using her potty pad and brave the outdoors again.  It was no time before we got into our pre-winter habit.  We walked down to her favorite house (who apparently has 1/16th grass and a few dogs – evidenced by the fantastic amount of left over poo), she peed twice, and pooped on the way back.  We did this a couple times today.  Ahhh, yes… spring?  Maybe?  I feel like if I say it confidently, that “bitch” mother nature will slap me back into Midwestern reality.  

Almost a week ago, I got three implants and two teeth removed.  An upper and lower full denture (immediate dentures) placed.  I have used ammoxicillan (sp?) and oxycodone (a whole 5 mg) and the amazing salt water rinse.  For four days I was treated to wearing my dentures constantly.  The lower was causing a great amount of pain.  Apparently after they did the impression at the office (the office has a lab on site), the sides of the lower denture (particularly on the lower right side) was too long.  It was putting pressure on the tissue underneath my cheek.  It hurt to eat Jello, folks!  JELLO!  So I was able to schedule an appointment yesterday and have them trim it down so it felt… better.  I’m still learning to eat.  The lower immediate denture, obviously is not chewing friendly. From what I hear, lowers aren’t exactly easy to maneuver anyway.  They pop out too much and I end up awkwardly putting them back into place.  I also have to take it out when I’m taking my medicine.  Okay, probably too much information.  Sorry if this is gooey and weird.  But hey… you come for the honesty, right?  (I promise, I have limits….)

So, it’s 1:30 a.m.  I am becoming exceptional at late night blogging.  I think it’s because I am alone.  I don’t like blogging with other people around.  It causes a distraction and gets me all confused.  Plus, my writing tends to be more eloquent than my normal speech patterns.  I have time to consider what I want to say.  As opposed to being in the proverbial “hot seat”, where I have to be on the spot and crap.  I guess I’m no good at that.  I second guess, use too much profanity, and trip over my words.  It’s pretty fascinating to watch me in my finest hour.  Tonight, I flubbed up and asked my husband if he wanted to go to the store to get pop.  He recommended going to Walgreens.  He was tired of going to the same gas station.  So I agreed.  Suddenly in my mind, I thought – are we going in, or going through the drive thru? Of course I had to laugh at this, which made my husband wonder what was going through my mind.  Gah!  I swear!

Ashleigh update.  Yesterday we had another CST.  The concept of our missing two weekends of visitation was brought up very critically.  Eric and I explained our reasoning and it was pretty much dismissed and still expressed by foster mom that she needs to know or depend on visitations.  Not having visitations at home is very hard on her.  I’m sorry, but I still stand by my reasoning!  She was absolutely inappropriate at school!  She got sent home, which takes a lot.  She had to have consequences other than having the fucking day off!  What do I know?  Obviously everything I know is wrong.  Or I don’t have the right to inconvenience the foster family this way.  I won’t even begin to state how absolutely unfair it is that we have to bow down to what everyone else says.  And chances are, if it happened again – I would do it the exact same way.  Regardless of popularity.  And guess what?  Spring break is coming up! Darrian is off this Friday thru next Friday.  And then Ashleigh is off the week after.  Darrian, as per usual will skirt her responsibilities by shutting herself in her room attached to her tablet (which Eric and I have determined was THE WORST GIFT EVER and will be taken away soon at the rate she’s going).  We’ll tell her to get things done, she won’t.  We’ll remind her… she won’t.  And when we get agitated and raise our voice – she’ll get angry and slam the door on us.  We’re unfair.  This is the reason she stays at school.  Nevermind the fact that her laundry is everywhere.  She hasn’t cleaned the catbox in a few days.  Eric took the recycling out today.  She never does dishes, and we’re lucky if she does her own laundry from time to time.  She absolutely and unequivocally pisses me off!  Teenagers, huh?  When I picked her up today from Miranda’s house (a friend of hers) at 7:30 p.m. she had eaten a snack and two french fries for the entire day!  THE ENTIRE DAY!  She has school lunch provided, she has breakfast options available.  She talks about being dizzy and blacking out at times. I know nothing, but eating may help limit this!  Again, I know absolutely nothing.  I just don’t.  I already had the cardiologist raise her metropolol because of her dizzy spells increasing.  Now I want to get her on a stress test to see if it is an issue with her heart, if she’s spouting bs beause she’s a teenage opportunist, or if her lack of food is getting her no where.  I would love to scream, I really would.  I have a feeling my neighbors would complain.  Seeing as how I live in an apartment building along with eight other families.  

I notice, I have a lot of feelings!

Today at 1 p.m. I go back to therapy.  THANK GOD!  I miss Jayne yet.  I wish I could show her my teeth.  I think that she would be proud.  I remembered yesterday about how we left things off.  I am happy for her yet.  She worked hard to get to retire.  She deserves to go to the next level in her life.  And she is a good person.  I still am resentful that the counseling clinic chose to fill her office so quickly.  I kind of feel this insane need to have had them build me up to that moment.  Alas, it wasn’t up to me.  And it was never up to me.  My feelings would never be taken into consideration.  Nor should they.  I just wish I had more time to process it.  I do miss her though. As awkward as it was sometimes to talk to her, and know that she would ask if it was okay to hold my hand or sit next to me – I wish she were here to ask again.  It was comfortable.  So, yes.  I miss her.  I like my therapist now just fine, but I miss Jayne.  She was good to me.  And as much as I know my current therapist will be too, I haven’t established that comfort level quite yet.  I’m still working on it.  I am grateful to still be in therapy and having my appointment later today.  After two weeks of being at home, out of my routine, I feel like I am going to explode with everything I am going to want to say.  I think maybe I should start to prioritize what I’m going to talk about.  That way I can make the most out of my sessions.  HAHA!  Who am I kidding?  I don’t do that, and probably won’t start now.  As good and productive of an idea as that may be.

Oddly enough, I haven’t felt as…. conflicted lately.  I haven’t felt completely and utterly stressed to the gills.  Odd, I know.  And somehow I have a feeling of misplaced security.  I don’t know what that all is about.  Maybe it’s because I’m just not dealing with things the way I should.  I’m ignoring things.  Maybe, just maybe I needed a break and it’s okay that I’m feeling pretty okay.  Everyone deserves that, including me.  On top of that, my back hasn’t completely debilitated me lately.  Total shocker!  I haven’t had 4 consecutive days of little to no back pain in years!  That will most definitely add to my security.  However, I don’t want to get too used to this.  Eventually, I will go back to my norm.  For now, I can relish in the idea that I too get a break.  And that I’m okay.  Screw the rest of it.  This is my “vacation”.  My psychological vacation (as I can’t afford an actual vacation).  I will take whatever I can get!

Anxiety x12 – All Because of The Dentist…. Mwahahaha!

Earlier, after Eric finished another episode of “Hart of Dixie”, he asked me how I was doing.  As I went to lay down, I lost my composure. The tears flowed for what seemed like forever.  And the new box of kleenex that I bought certainly is worth it’s weight in… paper.  I took a couple Lorazepam to level myself out.  After about 20 minutes, I was going back to my normal self – to some degree.  The thoughts are still lingering there.  

I explained to Eric that even though I met the Dentist that will perform the processes tomorrow, and he was kind and compassionate: What happened if he became a dick during my appointment.  And suddenly, all my fears and trauma would resurface.  To keep myself in check, I said out loud that it was just me. Chances are, my extreme fears about this visit will end out differently than I am thinking it will.  

Tonight will be a short post.  I apologize.  I am just way too tired to entertain more thoughts.

Take care

I’m Nervous

Wednesday I have a dental appointment.  7:30 a.m. on Wednesday.  I’m not looking forward to it.  Not only will I have the two remaining teeth in my mouth removed, I will have two – if not three posts put in at the same time.  The posts are to eventually place the implants I will have to seat my lower denture.  The posts go in AFTER the extractions.  Not sure how exactly they’re going to do the third – or where it’s going to be placed.  All I know is that it’s going to hurt like a mother fucker.  And that doesn’t excite me whatsoever.  The dentist seems very nice and compassionate, which is good.  My in laws and my father are footing the bills for the dental work I will be undergoing.  I know I have a difficult time showing how grateful I am to people for things, and overall being social – but I am.  I love my family, in laws included.  They are all really helping me a lot.  And all in an effort to help me smile again.  This will also aid me in being able to eat right.  Since having two teeth isn’t conducive to eating things that have more than mushy quality… this will help immensely. That in and of itself is a life saver.

I joined an online group for overeaters.  It may be an OA group, I can’t exactly remember.  But they have online chat rooms that happen from time to time… and various messages that members send to one another.  I know it’s important that I stress my need to change my habits, but I am completely afraid of putting myself out there at one of my most vulnerable of states.  I know I am doing it here – but chances are, few people will respond to it.  And there, not so much.  I think at some point, I will sit down and try.  I owe it to myself to do it.  I still have this overwhelming sense of rejection, realistic or not.  It’s a lot of what I know.  

Ashleigh has done a lot of work over the last few days.  Despite our conversation last Thursday, she really pulled it together.  She came for family therapy today.  Granted, with the foster family being out of town – the therapist and I had no idea if she was even coming into town.  (The foster home and school are 20 minutes away) So we had to scramble to find out.  Once she got here, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that she was receptive.  Not only that, she was pleasant and talkative.  Even about things that were difficult for her.  Darrian on the other hand, she kept changing the subject.  Her birthday a few years ago with a friend, Thanksgiving one year, etc etc.  She really liked to deviate from the topics at hand.  And Eric and I both gave each other confused and irritable glances from time to time when she’d do it.  Purely because we didn’t understand where it all came from!  It was so random.  I know she’s hiding a lot – but damn!  She needs to address some of this stuff.  I am going to have to put my foot down soon.  Family therapy is THERAPY time.  Not a gab session.  This is getting old.  And I feel like I’m wasting their time.  They’re not getting paid to chit chat about random bs. Point blank.

My therapist is going to be out again today.  I’m pretty sure she underestimated how long it would take for healing after her foot surgery.  I am not upset that she had to cancel, I get it.  I don’t blame her at all!  Between the weather situations we’ve had for probably 2 weeks and her foot surgery cancellations – this year, I’ve had 4 appointments that either she or I have cancelled.  That doesn’t exactly leave me with a lot of comfortable feelings.  I really like my therapist and wouldn’t change now.  At least, not unless I had to.  Some things are just uncontrollable, and I know this.  It’s just hard to be stuck in my head so much.  When I go into therapy after weeks like this without therapy, I usually just BLAH!  It’s like my mouth completely unleashes everything in my brain – at least what’s able to escape my brain.  And because I’m limited to 55 minutes a week, well… I always am left with so much more.  My old friend, before her old therapist left – her therapist would allow her to stay additional time.  As long as she had no appointments after hers and she needed to unload yet after her scheduled time.  I know she doesn’t have that luxury anymore – and that she misses it, but I would love to be able to have that too.  

I guess that is where friends come in.  I have friends, I suppose.  They are out there.  I just have withdrawn so much over the years.  I’m afraid they don’t care about me the same way as in the past.  That my problems or current situations are bothersome to discuss. It is quite possibly just me being excessively nervous about the reception I’d receive.  I want to have local friends.  I know some people have been pretty open to the idea of it and have offered it up.  I tend to cower in a corner almost and think to myself – they don’t really want me as a friend.  I’m not worth being friends to anyone!  My life is way too complicated – or even if I do befriend them, they won’t listen to me.  As per usual, it will be a one way friendship.  And that is not something I am looking for.  I want to open myself, but the cost of doing so is beyond my “fragile” psyche.  If you will….

I’m trying to take things one step at a time.  Right now things are going, okay.  Granted, I’ve been emotional and my back has been hurting.  Plus I have been mad as hell at Darrian for trying to get out of things.  I don’t get that child.  To some degree I do, but others, I just want to string her up.  And then shake her and say – “Get with the fucking program kid!!!”  I think that’s probably wrong. Obviously, I won’t do that.  I’m not that kind of person.  And because I’ve been so agitated with her and my ability to confront people is almost nil – it just festers.  And the more time goes by, the bigger it becomes.  JUST like the analogy – building stress over time is just like a person shaking a pop bottle up, more and more.  The building of stress eventually leads to overload, as does the pressure/stress from the pop.  It all explodes eventually.  However, if you have good coping mechanisms, one could avoid all that ugliness.  Unfortunately, I think very few of us in this house actually use them when it is necessary.  We try, but I have a tendency to flip out when I feel I’m being attacked or unjustly given attitude.  

For now, I guess I will end this blog for the night.  I have to take Darrian and Al’s kid, Dave to school in a few hours.  This is truly going to suck.  Had it not been for my fucked up sleeping schedule as of late, this wouldn’t be such a daunting task.

1 a.m. and I’m Crying

Admittedly, I took a nap earlier.  I was just exhausted.  Which leads me to waking up and regretting it… around now.  I bring Darrian and a friend of ours – Al’s kid Dave for school in the morning.  So, I leave at 6:39 a.m. to pick Dave up, usually (yea, not always reliable on that time thing – but at least by 6:45a.m.).  It’s 1 a.m. now, and I’m putting dishes in the sink to soak and I’m crying over the loss of my prior therapist, Jayne.  Reason being?  She had admitted that she had compassion for me.  I have very few people in my life that communicate with me daily that have compassion for me.  And there’s a reason for that.  I’m terrified of letting anyone in.  (Gah!  Why is my cat eating a paper wrapper on the floor?  Is she dumb?) 

The last few days have been tough.  I had lost my oxycodone for about 4 days.  (Behind the stand that holds my cpap machine).  So I have been heavily relying on tylenol to soothe my back pain.  My husband has been between migraines and his bipolar mood swings.  Plus, I’m sure the fact that we’re flat ass broke doesn’t help matters either.  I think he worries a lot more than he tells me.  A LOT more.  And that makes me feel bad. He inherited me, which comes with a lot of bat crap crazy!  

Monday afternoon, Eric and I were at his parents house doing laundry.  I stayed in the basement the whole time, isolating myself the way I always do.  Eric and his dad were upstairs setting up their netflix with their new blue ray player, watching some tv, and chatting.  Meanwhile, I’m waiting for the neverending 1 minute cycle on the washing machine!  I’m carrying, switching loads, getting up, sitting down, and I got bored – so I vacuumed their basement rugs and swept in the laundry room.  The last time I walked upstairs to go to the bathroom I was a wreck!  I tried to hold it in until I got downstairs.  I was just about ready to switch over the last load into the dryer when Eric came downstairs.  I was in so much pain, I can’t describe.  But I wouldn’t let myself relax.  I couldn’t let myself relax.  I have seen Eric go downhill for months.  And I know he won’t go back for ECT.  Hell, I don’t blame him.  His experience was 1 out of 10,000 people!  His tolerance level for medications and other things is beyond anyone I’ve ever met.  Granted, he’s a big guy – but still!  His ECT experiences were traumatic, and if it were me – I wouldn’t want to go back!  You couldn’t pay me enough!  So, in addition to his bipolar episodes and two types of migraines – he’s having panic/anxiety attacks.  He can’t take NSAIDS – it’ll kill him if he takes too much.  He’s limited on bipolar medications because they too could kill him… and he’s allergic to quite a few too.  So, let’s just call him – fucked.  That’s the only way I can explain it.

So, here I am – standing in the basement with Eric, crying my eyes out.  He asks if I’m in pain, which I respond yes –  I am.  It hurts to even type what I was saying at the time because it’s still so fresh in my mind. As I cried, yet again, I told him that I felt awful for not being able to contribute as much as I used to.  That I am trying, really hard to get things done.  And I hate, HATE being in pain.  (As if anyone does really relish it) So, fortunately, he takes over.  And I get to relax for a while.

Yesterday afternoon, Darrian came home with a swollen right cheek.  At first it was swollen and the blue crescent moon shape on her cheek looked like makeup.  Darrian had been crying earlier that evening because her friend is still in the hospital.  So, I thought maybe it was just makeup running down her face. Yesterday morning, when she woke up her face was awful!  I can’t begin to explain it.  And I’m sure she won’t let me take pictures either. So, she goes off to school and of course has the barrage of questioning from everyone.  Teachers, students, etc.  The whole nine yards.  Can’t blame them. I would too in their position. 

School called while Eric and I were at the pantry trying to get groceries for the house. So we couldn’t exactly return the call.  By the time we were done, I was able to get in touch with them.  They asked that Darrian be seen at the dr’s, just to be on the safe side.  And honestly, I had thought about it on Tuesday night when I saw it that way.  Eric said it would be fine, just to ice it. The swelling would go down. And I just moved on.

I took Darrian to the doctor yesterday afternoon.  Fortunately we were able to see a doctor at 3:15 p.m.  The doctor was very nice and respectful.  Advised us that according to his examination – Darrian had a minor concussion and a black eye, so to speak.  That the swelling would go down in time.  Nothing was broken and there was no bleeding in the ears or eyes.  So, his recommendation – two days of rest and no computer, no phones, no tv time, and no school.  Also, although she will return to school on Friday this week – she will have no gym participation until March 10th.  (No skin off her back, I’m sure. She’s always saying she’s blacking out and getting dizzy while she participates anyway.  I’m not exactly sure if her blood pressure meds are not high enough and not doing the trick, or if this is just her being paranoid since she was hospitalized a few years ago. Darrian is the type for dramatics.)

In addition, I haven’t heard from Ashleigh since last Thursday.  As much as it’s nice to have some time off from conversations – because we run out of things to say, it makes me nervous.  Yesterday, I did get a text from foster mom saying that Ashleigh was again excused from school.  She was swearing and throwing fits.  And if you read my last post, you know how I feel about her not being suspended during those key moments.  And according to foster mom, while she was in respite last weekend – she was throwing a fit then too!  So I have a sneaky suspicion that this weekend, we won’t have any visitation either. (We didn’t last weekend because of her hysterics. And this last weekend and yesterday were the exact same types of behaviors that prevented her from coming before)

I’m tired too, I really am.  I want to just fall apart more sometimes.  I see Eric the way he is and I feel like I have to pull it together.  He’d do the same for me.  And then other times, I just want to throw it in his face and tell him how I feel about it.  Even though I KNOW damn well that wouldn’t do anything but make things worse for the both of us. I want to feel okay for a change, and taken care of.  I know it’s more difficult than it sounds given the circumstances.  I just am tired of waiting around to feel like I matter.  It’s hard being mentally ill on both of our parts to acknowledge one or another.  Anyone with mental illness can understand that – especially if you’re in a relationship.  I honestly don’t blame him.  I blame the mental illness for where our disconnect is.  I also blame our socioeconomic and emotional stresses for where we are right now.  

For now, I have to say goodnight.  I’m going to try to make some coffee, french toast, and play a few games on the computer to keep my mind occupied.  I think I need that.  Plus, my doggie seems to want some attention from me as well.  I could use some cuddle time with my Calla anyway!

I have to say thank you to anyone who reads this and follows along.  I know sometimes it can be hard to follow my train of thought.  This blog is very much like my therapy sessions.  I go from topic to topic relatively quickly.  I have so many things I need to work through that I have to.  And my brain and mouth (and in this case, hands) keep tossing stuff out.  The fact that I have supporters and readers (whether you comment or not) is amazing.  So, thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Stay well!

So Much, Too Much… No Time

Ashleigh turned 18 on February 10th.  I was able to get anxiety pills that day, as my psychiatrist appointment was the same day.  Thank goodness.  

Turning 18 has become such a cornerstone in my life and all of ours, really.  It scares me in many, many ways.  And Ashleigh has more than a habit of being unreliable with what she’s going to do from one day to the next.  She says she’ll stay in care and graduate, then she threatens to run away.  She says she doesn’t care about a guy, then she changes her mind.  She swears she only loves one guy and has left the other, but looking at her Ipod notes (don’t tell her I looked!) she has love letters to them both!  Oh, and I have to mention this!  Remember “Stanley”?  I think I mentioned in a prior blog that he visits the apartment building behind ours.. (If I hadn’t, I have now) well, Eric now knows what he looks like.  I still don’t, but it’s probably better that way.  Actually, it would probably be better that I know as opposed to Eric.  I’m way too…. terrified of the consequences should I opt to do something stupid.  That’s just me.  Some days, I wonder about Eric.  Not always, just some days.

I lost a friend in December, about a week – ish before my birthday.  I know it was for the best, it probably would have fallen apart later if it hadn’t then. I will say this, I haven’t ever felt this lonely in my life.  And honestly, part of that is my doing.  I am such an social fucktard when it comes to daily situations.  And it certainly doesn’t help undergoing the challenges that I’m going through.  I should have teeth soon, which is a plus.  But it’ll hurt.  My in laws and my dad are helping me get my teeth.  First of all, I’m going to have the last two I have in my mouth pulled – then have posts put in where the extraction sites are for implants.  I know implants are pricey – but I had to look at it this way.  Dentures are hard to keep in, even with all the polident in the world.  There isn’t as much bone and suction to secure it.  The implants help keep the lower denture clipped on so there won’t be such a dependence on feeling like it’ll flip off.  The upper denture – well, that’s been needing to be replaced since well… 20 years ago?  When you’re as petrified as going to the dentist as I am, it doesn’t matter the discomfort.  I took the discomfort over seeing a dentist for ages.  And that worked for me.  Now?  Now I’m looking forward to it.

I am also looking into things to help me feel and become healthier.  I’m going to slowly drift away from the whole pop dependency (which – honestly… pop to me is like coffee is to others). When I get my teeth, I will have more options to eat things.  I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I could use a fucking light chicken caeser salad.  I am looking up recipes in my weight watchers magazines that – well, have been collecting dust for months.  And amazingly, I went to see a nutritionist.

Why did it take so long? First of all, It’s hard to admit for me that I don’t like myself for who I’ve become.  I’ve seen my body changing for a while and I don’t like how I look or feel.  I refuse to have pictures taken, I don’t engage in social situations – not just because of my discomfort in size – but my teeth as well.  I crave sugar way too much, and I am diabetic.  If I want to continue that way, I might as well chop off one of my feet now and get it over with.  In hindsight, maybe sugar was my replacement for smoking.  Maybe my celebrated yearly victories aren’t actually so victorious.  Maybe it’s a sham to some degree…. I’m not sure.  Either way, I need to move on.

All the things I’ve mentioned in this blog have brought me to a level of depression that I haven’t seen in years.  For three days straight I was in bed or on the computer.  When I wasn’t on the computer and focused, I was crying – inconsolably.  I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag if my life depended on it.  I was just stuck.  In some ways, I wanted to give up.  I just wanted to lay down and just let it all be done.  Again, keep in mind… I don’t go down so easy.  I have way too much in store yet for me to give up.  I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I will let you know as soon as I know!

I’m not exactly sure what to tell you on the Ashleigh front.  For now, she’s safe.  She got a “take a day off, your attitude and actions suck – but not suspended” day from school.  And honestly, I think that sets a bad example for Ashleigh.  I think she needs to have the suspension.  I think she needs to see the consequence.  Not that she can misbehave and be given a day off that NO OTHER kid gets!  I couldn’t exactly communicate that because I wasn’t thinking.  I normally am not thinking about those things at the time I’m talking to professionals.  I usually go into the “uh huh” mode until they hang up.  Which is pretty much exactly how it went.  Once I got off the phone, I got upset.  And mind you, my inability to confront or disagree with anyone in authority is absolutely unheard of.  I am way too passive. I don’t think I was always this way… I just at one point became that person that just cowers in the proverbial corner until the next wave passes through.  Not always, just with people that I am uncomfortable with  or haven’t built a raport (sp?) with yet.  

I will blog when I can.  It’s been an emotionally and physically exhausting day.  And since I’m at my in laws doing laundry and my dog isn’t here… I miss her and can’t wait to get home. (No offense)

Until the next time - 

I Miss You Computer Keyboard!

I apologize for my lack of typing.  It’s not for the lack of want.  Believe me!  I am just really getting tired of typing on a phone when my letters have to be retyped all the time.  Consequence of fat fingers and small keys.  I swear… one day….

Anyhow… I’m not even sure where to begin.  I guess I begin where ever floats my boat.  

Okay…..

I’m finally getting my voice back. It’s only been two months, which is odd.  I don’t get it.  I really and truly don’t.  My carpal tunnel is acting up – even without repetitive movements like typing or what not.  I have been getting bored and irritable, but my new meds aren’t exactly working at full capacity and I can tell.  Along with that, I have a lot going on in my head.  Past traumas, Ashleigh, Darrian and that damn fucking tablet she got for Christmas,(Electronic tablet…. Much a like a computer), and might I say many many many other things.

February 10th marks Ashleigh’s 18th birthday.  The court has already ruled that she will stay in foster care until June 30th, 2014.  Ashleigh has been very vocal about her not wanting to stay. It’s as if it’s torture to her.  Which, I don’t get.  They don’t treat her badly.  She just found out that foster care is NOT what she thought it was going to be.  1st – They have RULES! 2nd – There are other kids in the home. 3rd – They are religious. 4th – They are vegan. And last, but certainly not least … 5th – They are responsible and will enforce the rules for all the kids. In addition, all obligations such as school, CST’s, and appointments are managed.  Gah, the phone calls that woman has to make a day!  Three foster kids are there presently, including Ashleigh!  

Ashleigh going to church has been one bane of her existence.  The family goes to a Seventh Day Adventist church nearby to where we live.  Ashleigh wants to live as an atheist.  Which, whatever.  That’s all on her.  I can’t force her when she’s with us to believe one way or another.  So, for the fact that they have regular masses on Saturday and other church events (choir and some other weird thing… um…. idk.) The one thing that keeps her going to the church is “Stanley”.  For those not familiar, Ashleigh had sex with “Stanley” when she was 16 years old – with the intent of getting pregnant.  And “Stanley” was 26 years old at the time and wishing for the same.  Coincidentally, “Stanley” already has 2 paternity suits up through our county.  So, as you can probably tell…. he’s more interested in copulating than co parenting.  Although, hell… who isn’t these days???? Be honest! As a kid myself, my dad (no fault of his own) was not able to keep me away from the vultures.  (AGAIN I stress, NOT of his own fault.  I had my own agenda.  As any kid who is a pissed off, traumatized adolescent) As a parent at any age – the hardest thing to do for your adolescents is to keep your children away from those people who will do them ill will.   Illegal Drugs and some legal, sexual deviance, illegal activities – among other things.  I have worked tirelessly at doing so.  And now, Ashleigh turns 18 on February 10th of this year.  She’s not set to graduate until early June of this year.  She could easily quit school of her own agenda.  And she could probably legally do a lot of other things as well. I’m trying to keep her smart.  I’m trying to offer her as many opportunities as possible.  She wants what she wants, despite what it means to get those things (or not). 

The concept of her turning 18 years old has frightened me for years.  She’s wanting to no longer be on birth control.  She’s wanting to move in with “Stanley”.  She wants to leave school (yet get the ring as if she did graduate anyway).  Interestingly enough to note.  The last CST we had, Ashleigh burst out in tears over the concept of staying at the foster home and finish school.  She was very firm and emotional about her insistent about not wanting to be in school because she was being bullied.  Not uncommon, unfortunately for many kids – including Ashleigh.  Most of her life she’d been bullied over certain elements that are and have not been in her control.  I have always wished that kids had a better sense of empathy or what have you.  That is very rare..  The members of the CST instructed Ashleigh some examples of what to do in and out of school what she should do if she was bullied.  She continued to be very emotional over this discussion and kept finding loopholes.  What if this person isn’t there?  Then what?  And then we’d say something back to answer to it… it was an endless cycle – or so it seemed. 

On Friday of last week I got a text from the foster mom telling me that Ashleigh met with one of her teachers at school.  The teacher told Ashleigh that if she were EVER being bullied at school, to let her know.  (This teacher she met with is not her primary teacher – this is one of the few teachers she has a day.) And Ashleigh looked at the teacher and told her that she hasn’t been being bullied!  I know Ashleigh has spent many years being manipulative.  I know that she also probably has many alterior motives. She probably has a collection of different ideas of what to do.  Maybe not enough – and probably not any ideas that are good ideas.  Being an adult is harder than just spinning tall tales.  It takes more than just minimal effort.  It’s not just about talking a good game.  There are a lot of things she needs to do, but because it is hard – she just wants to say fuck it to them all.  I love her immensely, I really do.  I can only say that I am afraid of all the havoc that she’s going to create because she wants to take “the easy way”.  There is NO easy way! Or, if there is – I have yet to meet anyone that has skated through life.  And either I’m not very crafty, or I have been taking all the wrong ways myself!  Everything becomes a complete cluster fuck.  But, I have years of experience on my end.  She doesn’t.  

So, what can I anticipate happening?

Ashleigh could end up looking for any number of roomies.  “Stanley”, us, Eric’s parents, or anyone she considers her friend.  Hell, she may even begin going door to door to make friends again and find a roomie that way.  Unfortunately, with her skills or lack there of – she’s going to find so much hurt.  And no matter what happens – it isn’t her fault.  It is always someone else’s fault.

The one thing I can see happening is this.  Ashleigh’s diagnosis has been thought to be Borderline personality disorder.  However, without her being 18 years old – the doctors could not diagnose her as this.  Not that I have heard that there are many impressive treatment regiments for this diagnosis – but still, a confirmed diagnosis.  

I also see that Ashleigh will come to us a lot through her trials and tribulations.  She will be very emotional on many aspects and expect us to pick up the pieces.  That, is not something that we can do.  To some degree, we can be supportive.  I will not become an enabler.  And the hardest thing for me to be is assertive.  I know that sounds ridiculous…. but I am a passive person for the most part.  I find assertive as being on the line, if not being aggressive – ish. Confrontation is a big downfall of mine.  I have a feeling that when Ashleigh turns 18, there will be more evidence of confrontation with Ashleigh.  That this time we’ve been waiting for her to get better was just her way of repressing it all until the right time.  And being 18 has this sense of entitlement.  Once I turn 18 I can do whatever I want kind of bs.  

I really hope that one day, I can say this is not how it went.  I am not that optimistic, however.