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I suck….

18 Dec

So, lately I haven’t been feeling it. I have not been dealing with life very well at all. I am still suffering and this battle is never ending. I hate this. It’s like a damned rollercoaster in here! Good days and bad days, then a whole bunch of bad days….ugh. Lately I have been waking up in the morning with numb hands. I have carpal tunnel in both hands or wrists or whatever. This sucks large. And it is due to piping all of those cakes for the past ten years. Now, I am a cleaner and I need my hands. I can be mopping or sweeping and my  hands go numb. Then, when I step down and walk I have to walk gingerly because I have plantar fasciitis in my right foot. This is very painful and prevents me from walking or doing things after a day of work. I just want to sit down because my foot hurts so bad. This means that I don’t want to go anywhere. I do. I want to go places, but I don’t want to walk around in pain and hobble around with a limp. I do not know if this is the reason that I am in a downer lately, but I am tired of this feeling.

I have no ambition to clean, do laundry or even do the baking for the week ahead. I want to cry and bury my head under the covers. I want to know why I feel this way. If I know the why, then I can work on how to get out of the funk. This time of year is my favourite, the kids get excited and I get ramped to see them so happy at Christmas, I love to give and I love to give things that I make. What is wrong with me? The Christmas spirit has not bitten me this year and I am failing. I am failing at everything it seems. I am not being the wife I should, I am pre-occupied  by my own pain to even listen, I am always off in my own head. I  want to be in the here and now, but something keeps blocking me from enjoying my everyday  life. There is so much joy to be had, I see it. I see my husband laughing and enjoying our children. I see him paying attention. I am there, I see it, but what is wrong with me? I am sitting there in the same room. I am doing something like crocheting and watching what I am doing in my own hands. I have a time limit to get these things done, yes, but why can’t I put the damned thing down for ten minutes and watch my son perform a silly little show where he is dancing and singing and being goofy? Why don’t I get up and go into the bathroom and supervise my youngest brush his teeth instead of waiting for him to come out and tell me that he brushed but he didn’t? It is the same every night and every night he has a fit about it. I could prevent that. But I sit in my chair like a cripple. Feeling sorry for myself and feeling like the victim all of the time.

I hate this fucking disease or disorder, or whatever the hell it is. It is taking me away from my family, it is taking me away from everything. The numbness in my hands goes away after a bit, and sometimes my foot is okay, but this mental shit is always there and it acts like a vaccuum. I cannot hear anything or anybody while it is in my head, and it sucks the sense of humour and joy right out of me. I don’t want to live like this anymore. Don’t read that wrong, I want to live, I just want this shit gone.

I notice during my moments of clarity, that my children think that I will react to something a certain way, and when I don’t, they are surprised. Sometimes the trees block my view of the forest I guess. My oldest child just walked into my room to ask me something, I ended up hugging and kissing him and telling him I love him, which I do on a regular basis, but this time I told him that I was sorry for not being a good mommy sometimes. He looked at me, shocked, and ask me why I would say that. I told him that sometimes I feel like I am not the best mother, he in turn replied to me with tears in his eyes telling me that I am the best mommy, and if he could choose anyone in the world as a mommy, he would choose me. Wow, waterworks! I am bawling telling you this. Do you know why? Not only is my son the greatest human being in the world with the biggest heart, but I am also crying because I am not worthy of such unconditional love. I am not good enough for my children. They deserve so much better than me. I am a broken mom. I have all of these issues and I am scared that I am going to pass them on to them. I have some harsh reactions sometimes and I get scared that they will react like that too. I see other peoples lives on facebook, lots of pictures with their kids, lots of smiles and love love love, like they are always out and about doing loads of stuff with their kids without resting and taking a break. I don’t know how they do it. I don’t know how they deal with stress and worry and all of the things that comes with life. Like, what do they have that I don’t? What is their secret? Why is everything so hard for me?

I can’t even stay with keeping on top of things. I slack. I mean, I made jars for my kids with chore in them on pieces of paper, I had them pick two per day, and that is their chore, well I was good at doing it for about 3 weeks, and now, in the last week I haven’t had them do it at all. I know, the holidays screw up all routines, but that feels like a loss of control for me. Like I didn’t care enough to keep it going. My intentions are good, but my follow through is really sucking right now. I am sucking right now. the game of life is getting the best of me. I need something to blame. I tend to just blame myself for everything, after all we all create our own destiny. Our life is in our hands. We get handed a bunch of obsticals, it is how we deal with each one that defines who we are.

My reason for this life is to help. I need to feel some sort of peace. I need always to help people. Right now, I have no idea how I am doing that. I clean. Who does that help, really? I know, it is something that needs to be done, yes, but there is nothing really meaningful about it. When I was baking, I was feeling like I was making people happy and bringing joy to their days. And through that, I could give the left over cupcakes to people who really couldn’t afford to eat. I gave them to The Inn of the Good Shephard. I also gave donations for fundraisers and supplied sweets for a cancer cruise every year. That, was good work, that was helping people. Now, I can’t even help myself. Gah, what the hell?

I guess my blog helps people, but it doesn’t reach far enough. I need it to reach more people to really make a difference. Maybe I need to go back to school to become something. To be someone again. Right now, I feel like a big pile of shit. Right now, I am not doing anything to help myself or anyone else. I am in a depression mode I suppose. Life is hard. Being in my own head is hard. I wish I could see inside someone elses head for a bit, see what it’s like to be “normal” if that is a thing. I am in such a bad head space, that this blog entry probably sounds erratic  and all over the place. I  don’t even know if I can join one thought to another. I need a shower, I need to take a walk, I need to get out of my head. I need therapy.

I suck.

Aftershock

20 Nov

When something like an earthquake happens, it massively upsets the whole crust of the earth, shaking and quaking, shifting and grinding. There is inevitably an aftershock of such a rough event. Things have to settle and it causes a little more shaking and quaking in order to rest. I am comparing that to having a psychological blow like I had when remembering repressed memories. There is no rhyme or reason to these things, but the dust has to settle. I am still quaking. I am fuming to the brim with the uneasy feeling in my gut. I even had a dream last night that a random man came to me and started to beat me with a hammer. I am so enraged right now, that even in my dream, I wrestled for the hammer and beat him about the head and back with it. I could not physically hit him hard enough. I wanted death. This says a lot about the way I am feeling right now!

I am not right today. I don’t know if this hatred will ever leave me. This abuse, just happened. The memories that have been suppressed for 34 years have come back now, when I am 39 years old, I am having memories of being molested as a toddler. Yes, a toddler, a little baby girl. I am feeling all of the feelings I felt then. Only now, it is worse. Now, I think as a mother, with all the pain of the child locked up inside. It is an absolute terrible feeling to feel. Physical pain withstanding, the mental anquish that I am facing right now is debilitating. It has knocked me down. Forget living healthy, forget the money problems, forget it all. There is the selfish feelings of despair, anguish, mourning. I am mourning. Mourning for my memories that have been tarnished. Mourning for the self that I have never been able to meet because he destroyed me before I had the chance to live for me, to be who I was meant to be.

I have now talked to his ex wife and his mother. I love his mother, she partially raised me, and I know that I have not really faced her or talked to her while having so much rage directed toward her son. I thought I would spare her, but I can’t. She should be able to know how I am feeling. She should have an idea of the possibility of more victims, more of his prey that are out there thinking that they are the only ones. Wounds heal, but the scars last forever. I have a giant gaping wound right now, and there is no healing for me as we speak. I must do this, blog. I must get it out there. This is my healing process. But, I got off track. I sent his mother a message letting her know that I feel hatred towards her son, this is why I cannot face her and talk to her since the memories have reared their ugly heads. Well, I can tell you, I have no idea how to respond to what she is telling me. She wants me to find God, to have faith and let my anger go. She is not saying anything about how bad she feels about what her son did. She is just addressing me and telling me to let my pain go. I am so freaking sorry, but I NEED to feel this pain. This is the death of my childhood. This is the murder of my innocence and it was taken, never to get it back. This was the beginning of the terrible path that I would go on, trying to torture myself for the pain that was mine, but that I did not cause. I don’t see him with any apologies, I see him, far away from here, living life high on the hog, with a girlfriend who knows nothing of this. I wonder how high he would be sitting if she were to find out. I wonder how confident in himself he would feel if he were on the sexual assault list, if he were to have to announce to his neighbours that he was a convicted child molester. Where is Karma now? I am sorry, but I want him to feel the pain I feel. I want him to go down the road I have been on. The self hatred I have gone through for the last 34 years. The masking of emotions with food. The pain, pain, pain, pain, pain.

Talking with his mother, left me in even more pain. Just talking about God and being free from the pain, and full of peace. I don’t buy it. I don’t get it. I cannot see it like that. It is bad to say, but I just see it as talking in circles and not making a definite statement about anything. It does not address my situation, it goes right to her and what she sees. It seems like I am not being heard by her. I love her, but I cannot talk to her right now. I will not be able to connect with her until I am adjusted. It is just a disappointment to learn that there is no talk about justice, about the way he preyed on me and the others who have come forward. Me and two others, I am pretty sure, there will be more.

I am broken. I have no more strength to keep talking to her about this. I am not being heard. I am being talked at. I am being placated. Like being patted on the head and told to shuffle off now.

I know she must not mean to come off this way, but this is how it feels. I know I must be lucky to be able to talk to my abusers mother, and family, but it is really hard. These are people that I love and looked up to all my life. This is people who told me they loved me and I believed it.

I want him to pay. I want to feel peace, but right now, I think all I will feel tomorrow, is a hangover. Don’t think that I won’t self medicate! I’m going to eat crap and drink a bottle of wine. I am going to hug and kiss my kids super hard and tell them like I have before, to not let anyone touch them, Hands off or tell an adult. I am a great mother, and I am not going to be wearing rose coloured glasses. I am going to be vigilant and only let them around trusted people. I know we cant be with our kids 24-7, but I can damned well try.

This may have made me stronger, but right now, I feel weak, sick and I want it to go away. My reality is bent and I have no way to straighten it right now. Like, a Salvatore Dali painting, all melty and weird, things aren’t as they should be. Ugh, it’s so weird right now. This is my aftershock. My second shake to settle things down. The hard look at the reality of everything before I can comprehend it is actually happening, and that it actually happened. Things were so much worse than my first memories. I am sure there are more to come. But for now, I wont will them to see the light of my eyes, I will just let what I do remember soak in and find a place in the person I am right now.

I will never apologize for the way that I feel. I am raw, you read what I write, it is exactly how I feel at any given moment. I don’t speak any truer words than the ones I share with you. Whether or not people I know agree with me or not, it is not my focus. I am sorry that you find my words and ideas offensive, or inappropriate, but nowadays, it is honesty that needs to be present. I will not glaze over anything. I will only be true to me. With that being said, nobody has come to me with mean words, but I just wanted everyone to know.

 

 

Hatred; The true struggle

19 Nov

I thought I had it good! I closed the business and thought, hey, I am going to be a stay at home mom. I am going to organize the house, make the kids breakfast every day, do all the housework, make all the dinners and take the kids everywhere they need to go. Well….its not that easy at all first of all, second, I had to really look into how our finances are! Not a good sitchyaysion! Behind payments on some things have to be made, outrageous utility bills needed to be payed, and I don’t have an income. Great. I can tell you that this Christmas is going to be pretty damn slim. So, I keep on, like I have to. I make out a budget for us and go to get a job. The first place I went, I went in without a resume to see just by chance that they needed someone. They hired me on the spot, and I was to go in the next day for an orientation. Well, looking through the pages the manager gave me, I saw that the busy time is on Saturday and Sundays. I had to do some figures, and I knew that this wouldn’t be worth it. I would start at minimum wage, which is something like $11.45 per hour and I would need child care for every shift she put me on Saturday and Sunday. Child care is $10 or more per hour for 2 children. I am damned if I am going to go to work for $1.45 per hour. Just ridiculous.

So, that was a bust. I start from before and really think about staying home. Then I start writing my life story. Not fun because of the memories I have to endure and relive. I got to the part about my early days at the babysitters. This is tough. It’s rough and hard to put down every single word. I have to phrase it like I am writing a story, not like I am writing for you. I have to word it differently, I can’t just write what is in my head at that particular moment. I should try, come to think of it. But, anyway, while I was writing about my early years at Janie’s, more memories came to me. The ones that have been repressed for ummmm…. say, 34 years. Wow….they hit me hard. Pardon my French, but it really fucking sucks. The feelings I have, I don’t even know how to manage them. I felt my face getting hotter, I know I was flushed. Alone, with a typewriter and paper, and I was blushing. I remembered some really nasty shit that he did and the way he hid it just makes my skin crawl. Ugh…. I feel nauseous. He would prey on me when I was playing in the basement, or watching tv in the basement. He could hear if someone was coming. Ugh, I want to vomit. What a piece of shit. I am riddled with rage, embarrassment, guilt and shame already, but now I have an unwavering feeling of utter hatred and disgust. I want to protect that little girl. I want to beat the shit out of the asshole who tried this with her before he got the chance. Who the hell did he think he was? Taking someone’s innocence like that, making  her into someone completely different without a second thought. And then I think, didn’t anyone see? Didn’t anyone notice something? Anything at all? Did my behaviour change? I know that I must have followed Janie around more after that. I remember not wanting to go downstairs when Mark was home. I remember, when he came home, I ran upstairs. Oh man, I just remembered some other things. Him, coaxing me down the stairs, and Janie had no idea. She would tell Mark to keep an eye on me when she was upstairs. Oh God. Here it is folks, a mental cap has been opened. I thought it was bad when I first remembered some of the memories….this. is. much. much. much. worse. These memories are lethal. I am so queasy right now. I keep thinking that the memories have to end somewhere, but they just keep going. I never ever ever wanted to be alone with him. A little girl, innocently watching Sesame Street and playing with her little chocolate baby doll (as Janie called it) and then, in looms the darkness, the face of evil plastered with an endearing face and a fake smile. The used car salesman who sells nothing but crap. Trust me. Come sit with me. Here, give me your hand….ugh…..its much much worse than that, but I will spare you.

I know he was a victim, I learned that earlier this year. It might seem bad of me, but I do not care one iota. I was a victim too. I didn’t do that shit to anybody. It really screwed with my head. I was petrified when I had my first baby. I thought, oh man, I hope I never do that, I won’t do that. I was so scared of myself, it was terrible. I never ever have had thoughts of that before. I was scared to bathe my son. I didn’t want to touch him in case it wasn’t right, or appropriate. I know, I am just a loving mother who wants the best for my kids and to love them, I shouldn’t be a first time mother and have these fears. I blame this all on Mark. He did this to me. I was scared. I know who I am and I know I would never ever touch anyone like that. I knew who I was then too…..but it scared the shit out of me that history would repeat itself, maybe because I have watched enough episodes of SVU to know that most molesters are what they are because it was done to them.

I hate him. My day went to shit because of him. I want him gone, out of my life. Out of my memories. He ruined perfectly good memories of me with his mother. I love her. She was a wonderful care giver, and he ruined everything. He made me scared when I was little, he made me scared of loving anyone, really, and opening myself to my husband. He made me scared of real love and intimacy. He made me scared to touch my baby, even to change his diaper and bathe him. He scared me when I had to talk to him daily while his mother was in the hospital, I didn’t want to talk to him. He is a snake in the grass. He has two faces. He hides his true self. He couldn’t even admit to me that he did anything wrong. He has never told me sorry for what he has done. And I doubt he ever will. He does not make me scared anymore, but I am scared of myself and all of the hateful feelings I have towards him and his oily self. I don’t want to hate him because I love his mother.

I love her and I don’t want her hurt. But, I hate him so much. I know she loves him and always will. I know she will always protect him, and I just can’t seem to face that.

Whew, now all of that, that is my true struggle. Day to day life sucks when you are broke, but it sucks so much harder when dealing with these freaking memories, and when storing all of this hatred.

 

What’s In There?

19 Oct

I am going to give you a look at what happens to a person (me) when they become fat. I wasn’t born this way. I was a mere 7 lbs when I was born. I was a cute blonde haired thin little girl. I only started on my weight gain journey after I had been molested. I think at 5 years old I started getting bigger. I can see it in the photos of myself when I was younger.

Alot of things have happened to me that I haven’t even scraped the surface in telling you. My biological father died 9 days before my first birthday, the pain that my mother feels over this keeps her from divulging any information about him in the first 20 years of my life.I  do not know his family.They don’t even know I exist.To this day, I have not seen his grave. Things happen in your mind when you feel incomplete, everyone who has been adopted can relate to this I think. Then I was molested between the ages of 3-5. My mother was in an accident which, at 5 years old I didn’t understand, except that she was hurt and my grandparents had to come and live with me for a while to take care of me. This caused some abandonment issues for me and within the first two weeks of her being gone, I had already peed my pants at school. This, is something that I do not blame her for. Ever. It is just something that happened in life, that had a ripple effect. During this whole time and it lasted about 10 years that I know of, I watched on as my cousin beat his sisters. He punched them in the face and gave them bloody lips and noses and black eyes. Their father and mother were abusive to each other as well. I remember going with my mother to pick up my cousins because my uncle was drunk and beating on my cousin because he thought she was her mother. There was alcoholism in this family too….not cool. I see my son get upset at seeing anyone being hurt or hearing his dad yell at something and he is in tears. Man, I can’t begin to think about the tough skin that I had to have already to witness all of this abuse.  About one year later, my grandmother, who I had grown very close to, had a heart attack. Everyone in my family was effected by this, not just me. I was very young though, and had gone through ALOT already. But wait, more is to come. So, after grandma’s heart attack or around the same time, my mom got a boyfriend who was a bit mean to me. I remember him hurting my face really bad, I hadnt washed it good enough and he took me into the washroom and wiped my face raw. It hurt and I was all red after that. Well, their relationship didnt last, and after he left, he saw me walking home from school and tried to get me to go with him, telling me that my mom told him to pick me up. I ran of course and didn’t go with him. I didn’t tell anyone ever about anything that happened or anything that I felt. Ever. It’s been locked up tight since this year. After that, when I was 8-9 I was in a very bad car accident which could have taken my life if the doctors hadn’t found my internal injuries. I was in the car with my two cousins and two friends. I can still produce the image of my cousin with her face in the dashboard and my  other cousin laying on top of her with her face in the windshield. It was not a good thing to see at the age of 9. I have not returned to the site of the accident since. Because of that, I had to learn how to clean my own wound by putting a tube into two holes in my stomach and pumping water into it and then putting a bandage back on. I cannot imagine my son having to do that. Torture. After that, my grandfather had a stroke and they had to move to town, my mother and I took on the taking care of my grandparents. When I was 10, I had to spend some nights at my babysitters again, and in that time, my molester started to visit me again at night. He came to me three times to prey on me. I told nobody. I said nothing, I pushed the feelings down and away. I was teased in high school for being fat. One nasty person would yell down the hallway at me and ask me “How much do you weigh this week Amy? 600 pounds?” and the bunch of people he was with would laugh and laugh at me. I felt nothing but hatred for him and I wanted to cry, but I kept walking past him like he said nothing. Another thing to push down and not feel. The teasing started with another person when I was as little as kindergarten. A boy would make fun of me and call me Miss Piggy every single day. School was torture. But I loved learning. After this, I had such a bad self esteem, I was worthless. I was defeated and beaten down. When I was 17 I got my first boyfriend. Which I lost everything to. I didn’t realize that he was a horrible person. I was getting attention and that is all that mattered. This person, raped me. My first time having sex, he raped me. I told him to stop, and he told me that I liked it. I didn’t know at the time I was raped. I do now. Sad. After that I lost about 125 pounds and gained some confidence. But not enough. This was the path for me, trusting everyone and getting beaten down every time. A whole list of men who mistreated me and abused me and never truly loved me like they say they did. Everything changed when I met Gord. But that is another story.

So, that is my story. Not in depth, there is alot of pain and alot of sorrow and sadness in my story, but this is where it changes. It’s like a switch went off in my head. I have spent the last 39 years being a victim, as someone who was full of shame and blame and self loathing. The next half of my life, I will be a survivor. I will be proud of all I have endured and overcome. I will no longer feel the sorrow and shame of that little girl, that teenager, that young adult. I will feel the pride of the woman that I am, that I have become and the woman who I have fought to see, and to be. I am finished with feeding my emotions. Now….I AM IN CHARGE!!! I am going to use my emotions to fuel my strength. I can see the future me, she is strong, full of life, healthy, happy and I can’t wait to meet her!

Going Down the Only Road I’ve Ever Known

4 Oct

Yes, Yes….I am getting better. I feel better, I am better. The only thing that resides is the dizziness. The constant head-swim. Ugh.

So, I wanted to do something productive today, besides baking for the shop and doing the regular stuff that has to be done. Something for me!

I decide I want to try to start writing a fictional novel. First I have to plan out characters and decide on a plot. So, I start drafting the main character, who I loosely base on me because in order to be a success, you write about what you know. And I know me! Ha ha! So, yes, I plan on making the main character like me, but not. To make her more of what I would have like to have been and give her ideas and characteristics that I would have liked at one point or so in my life. Does that make sense?

So, I am creating a character, then I start thinking about a plot. This part is the part that has me questioning myself and realizing that I really need more therapy and that I still have anxiety when it comes to personal things. I start thinking about making the plot about a mother with mental issues and trying to raise a child and hoping that he wont have the same affliction as she. Now, this is too close to home. I know. I know. I am not even writing a story yet, this is just the brainstorming part! I haven’t committed to anything and even if I did, I could change it! I write my own story, as it were!

My mind is now racing and feeling guilt. I feel guilty for being who I am, warts and all, in front of my children.What will this do to them in their future? Will they be compassionate, or develop real mental issues of their own? My mom hid her issues from me as best as she could and I was oblivious for the most part. I hadn’t a clue. Well….my kids know. I made sure that they knew I was anxious and it is real and I was taking medication for it.

See…this is what this shit does to a person! I honestly feel better, but maybe right now I am a little too “open” to be trying to write my first piece of fiction. I should just stay with writing my own life story and keep to that for now. That, I know what has happened and I can write about it without worrying about whether this means I am a good mother or not. I don’t question the me right now, I reflect on the me back then. I can mourn for her and feel the things that she hadn’t told anyone.

This is what I will do! Fiction can wait!

I don’t want to risk a total breakdown because I want to write  a story!

I feel much better now, having decided that! The weight and worry has been lifted for now. Until I am in bed at night wondering if I could have been a better mother that day. If I could have resolved the issues they had a little better. I feel the guilt for raising my voice at them and have to stop myself from waking them up just to get a hug and make sure they still love me! ha ha! Ugh! Being a parent is tough work, it does make it tougher though, when you think that every day, everything you say and do will effect the way they will grow up, thinking, I could just ruin this little person.

Wow….. Time to stop thinking and go back to baking. I think I owe myself a guiltless and peaceful walk in the park today. My brain is going to shut off for a while now!

 

Soaking in the Rays

12 Jul

sunshineAs of late, I have had an overwhelming need to be outside. I normally hate the heat….I am a furnace! I radiate heat like no one else! So, with the extra padding that I have acquired, it is grotesquely uncomfortable. But, I think that my body knows what it needs, and right now it needs the sunshine, and the hard work that has come with it. If I am in the sun, I have to be moving and working. I look around the house and the garden and I see everything that has to be done, and I just do it. My husband has learned to expect things to be different when he comes home from work now! I just can’t help myself.

I have noticed a calming effect that being outdoors and working hard and sweating has had on me. I am more relaxed and happier. I can take the time after working outside to sit down with a beverage and a book for an hour or two and not feel guilty because I am not doing anything. I even sometimes forget to take my crazy pill! I end up remembering, but I kind of like that feeling of forgetting it because it tells me I am doing okay. I am not obsessing over it and thinking that I really really need it! It’s good right?!!

I was actually okay the other day when I caught up on laundry. I spent from 10 am until 3 pm doing laundry and putting away clothes. And, cleaning the house too. But at 3 when I was done, I needed to go outside. I really HAD to do it!

The outdoors is something that I didn’t know was missing in my life, but now I love it, I live to be outside! And on hot sunny days like this, it is a chore to be inside. I walk through my house and think…ew! I wanna go outside! ha ha!

The other pros to being outside and doing work, is that it is free! I love free stuff! I also love the fact that we get the kids into doing the gardening and lawn care with us, and they learn how not to be lazy asses! I hate when they spend time in front of the tv during the day, or they want to be on their games all the time. Those of you with kids, do you ever notice how your kids become Mr.Hyde when they get off their games? Ugh, I can’t stand how they act afterwards! I limit the kids to a half hour a day of play…..unless their rooms are cleaned, they have done a chore, and it’s raining or hailing!

I wish that I had a country home with some animals and a huge veggie garden. Not only kidsbecause the environment is comforting and beautiful, but because the kids would learn the values of doing your own gardening and work in general. I was raised in a small country town and then moved out to the country later on. I learned what hard work was. What it felt like taking down dead trees in the field and planting new ones. I learned how to shovel corn out of an old corn dryer that is 50 degrees hotter inside than the already sweltering heat outside! I know how damn heavy those rubber tarps are that they put on top of semi trailers….ugh! I had my share of hard work, and I didn’t learn it all in the country, my mother showed me what work ethic was early on in my life. She was a single mother who sometimes carried 4 jobs at a time! And…..she came home and made suppers, did laundry, gardened, did peoples taxes and still had time to take me places, see some friends and lots of family. Honestly, I don’t really remember my mom relaxing. I remember her lying on the couch watching tv at night sometimes, but mostly, at night, she would be in her chair, hands busy with knitting or crocheting something for someones baby, or gifts for Christmas.

hard workI want my kids to know that kind of work ethic. I mean, not to that extreme, my mom was overworked. I want them to not care about getting down and dirty to get the reward of a job well done.

If I keep up with what I am doing, I think the kids will be alright. They are 7 and 9, and they do dishes every once in a while, and the oldest knows how to do laundry. I refuse to raise a boy into a man to rely on others to do things for him. My kids help with dinners and baking and know how to use a knife properly. My oldest son likes to cook himself eggs for breakfast! He amazes me!

All of those who suffer from the never ending inside beehive in your head, try to work hard outside. Soak up the rays, drink lots of water and revel in what  you have accomplished! You will feel better for it! A little vitamin D never hurts!

Have a wonderful day!

Slowing My Roll

29 Jun

As of yet, there is no fantastic cure for feeling like your head is about to explode, I mean, how much input can go in and be tossed around and worried about? You would be surprised! Anyhow, since the methods that I have been trying haven’t been working, I think it’s time to try something new. And something a little less destructive.

My husband is the real hero in this episode. He said to me the other day that he thought we were drinking too much and neither of us have been feeling that great. I completely agreed. Our sleeping is off and on, every other night it seems, we are not sleeping well and getting up at all hours. No good. If we don’t take care of ourselves, we can’t expect to take care of our dependants either. Enough is enough.

I have been thinking really hard about taking in more nature, sunlight and just trying to sunrelax more in order to get some much needed rest for my mind. Vitamin D is a great source of natural anti-depressant. So, I vow to spend more time outside, to get more active with my children and to read more books. Once I get into a book, there is no stopping me!

I think that I drank about 14 glasses of water yesterday, I ate normally, which is pretty healthy and I spent the day cleaning my children’s rooms! What a task! My 7 year old’s room looked like three baskets of laundry exploded on his floor! It took me about 5 hours to clean everything! I won’t let that happen again! From now on I will check his room every day and make sure he is keeping up with everything. And to be honest, I felt really great after I had put away all of my kids clothes away and finished the ten  thousand loads of laundry! This is what I need. I need to fulfill my purpose as a mother, a wife and a friend. To do that I must take care of myself and just get through the day, as hard as it can be. It is a never ending cycle of thoughts, actions and thoughts again. The never ending guilt and worry and all that goes with it, it is completely real, the feeling of defeat. The feeling that nothing will be right, or that something is wrong and you just can’t figure out what it is. The fear that you have said or done something wrong to someone and not knowing who or what it was. It is not easy to live with this. It’s even harder to live with when you drink. So, no more. Of course, it’s summer now and I will partake in a little bit of drinks now and then, but not every day. That being said, I never drank in excess when my kids were around. They are my first priority. Always.

I know now that I was going through a very very dark time and didn’t really know what to do. I am hoping now that is over. I will no longer cave in to my sorrows and try to cover them up, and by covering them up, I was only feeding them more. I know that now.

kid tieI vow, I will spend time at the beach, having picnics and playing frisbee and baseball with my family. I will drink water in excess and alcohol minimally, I will soak up the sun and tend to my new garden that I  just revamped in my front yard. I will take on the task of putting my kids clothes away and not waiting for them to do it. I will spend time doing learning pages and crafts with my kids. I will try not to worry about the housework as much and worry more about feeding my kids with attention, education and physical activities.

I will make myself better. Until I can see a real doctor who knows about all of this, I will try to manage on my own. I will try to cure myself in every way that I can. I know I will have bad days, but I have to remind myself that it is just one day. That one day does not claim my entire week, month, year or life.

To those of you who know me personally, I thank you for the support you have given me thus far, and I also thank you for the support you will continue giving me during this time, it will be a struggle for me, just know, I know how much you give even when you are just asking me how I am doing or you come to see me just to give me a hug and let me know that you are there, or that you are dealing with the same things.

And now…… to live!

live