Holidays

I have to be honest. Holiday's are hard for me.

Sharing custody 50/50 means there are half of the remainder of my holidays that will be spent without my kids. 

It sucks.

When I was a kid, my parents always made holidays special.  Every Easter there were personal baskets, every Valentine's day there was a stuffed animal, chocolates and a card...and Christmas was out of this world! I woke up to presents that I had asked for during the year, sometimes I had forgotten all about them.  One year, in Alabama, I had said something about wishing I had a birthstone ring.  A girl I knew had one I thought it was so crazy special and cool.  It was way too fancy for my 11-ish year old mind...how fantastic to have a real ring with an emerald in it?!

I also, that same year, would run to a specific jewelry case in K-Mart to look at this beautiful cross necklace. It was silver and had an amethyst in the center.  It reminded me of a medieval cross and I just needed it so bad. My dad would laugh and say that maybe someday I could have one like it. I kept hoping that if I looked at it enough times, he would buy it for me and I would wear it out of the store.  One day we went in and it was gone.  I was heartbroken.

Guess what I got in my stocking that year?  I opened this tiny present that had been hiding in my stocking amid candy...and there was my necklace.  I thought I was just going to die!  Not long after that gift, I opened one that had this sweet little emerald ring - all mine and it fit perfectly. 

After that things kinda went 'south' on holiday's.  The next year it was just a home movie of me sitting alone on the couch on one side of the room and my parents on the other. I opened my presents alone and that was it.  I can't remember why my siblings weren't there that year....maybe my brother was fighting in Desert Storm that Christmas.  Then my dad got sick and money was tight, we moved back to Missouri and I watched my mom struggle to make me an afghan for Christmas that year.

When my ex and I got married, I wanted every holiday for my kids to be special like it was for me.  NO matter what struggle, holidays were important. Family around us, cookouts, surprise gifts...

Dad died.  Divorce happens. 

Holiday's suck now.

I'm home on the 4th of July. Sitting behind my computer. 

I see images of my kids having fun with their dad at SDC and I'm so happy for them. 

I'm sad because I'm not with them.  I'm sad that those memories aren't with me in them.  Sometimes I feel like I'm an outsider on their lives.

I don't go to cookouts anymore, no grand family get togethers or outings.  I miss holidays.  I miss when they meant crazy family and fun days.

Now they just bleed...day into another. 

I work, I sleep, I work, I sleep...I stare at computer screens....

There has to be more than this.....

Fessing Up

Wanna know why I've been gone?

Because my depression has come back with a vengeance. I didn't want this blog to be 'poor me'...but I didn't want to neglect it either.

Its been building for a while and has be incredibly worse the last few days. I can't seem to function and I feel like an empty shell. Even now, I don't want to get into it. I'm really lost right now and struggling.

I broke down tonight in front of my husband - who just stood there and stared at me until he finally interrupted me to say "I gotta use the bathroom" and walked off. I'll admit that knowing what to say would be hard for anyone. I'm sure he feels as helpless as I do hopeless...it just would have been nice to get a hug, you know?

Its everything...being broke, my weight, the house, the kids, the lack of work, no enthusiasm for anything at all. I've read more books in the last 2 weeks than I have all year and don't remember 9/10ths of what I read. I don't even know if they were 'good'.

However...I did laugh tonight. It wasn't big - but it existed. I was sad when it hit me that I think it was the first time I laughed honestly in a long time...but a teensy, tiny bit hopeful because I was able to do it at all.

If you pray, please pray for me. Its really bad this time.

Questions

I have a friend. I call her friend - I could only hope to be thought of as the same by her. She has this blog that has this weekly theme. The theme is being naked. Not traditionally speaking - didn't mean to scare anyone there :) - but its about having a naked mind, heart - baring the soul.

She entered my thoughts today and inspired me.
I owe it to all of you to follow her lead and be naked.
Want to know why I've been MIA lately? Its because I've been thinking - too much. My thinking leads to depression and apathy and hiding and wallowing. And its always the same subject. SO, I wrote it out in an attempt to purge it.
As I wrote it morphed...and I let it carry me to a real, gut-wrenching paragraph or two. Now, I share it with you. This is my mind...naked.

I don't know what's wrong with me lately. I can't keep my emotions under control. Does money, or the lack thereof, affect me so much? Is it the only thing that can make me content with life? If so, why? Is it stuff? Is it the act of buying - of being able to?
Is it completely me? Maybe its that I know how my family will act - short tempered husband. Does the same issue affect him?
Is it that I'm home all day to think about it? That I see the empty cabinets and fridge, that I'm faced with my children begging for every toy on every commercial...is it that my 4 year old knows enough to ask me if I have enough money for something?

But many people have money issues. Many Happy people. Why does it affect my mood so completely, like a dark cloud?
Should a rising bank account lift the veil and make life brighter - or is that only bad because a lowering bank account makes me dark...depressed...angry?

Is it because it all feels like my fault? It started with my father's illness and burnout - then his death - my daughter's birth - then severe depression and family issues. Now I'm home because it seems like its the best thing financially.
I'm supposed to be busy now - my photography was supposed to have taken off - I was supposed to have hi the ground running...

Supposed to. Should have.

Is a dream really a dream if you will fight everyone around you to make it happen - but when it comes down to it you don't fight yourself to let go of doubt and fear of rejection, and instead let it stop you in your tracks completely?

What if I fail at the one thing I want to do? The one thing that fills every waking thought...the one thing that I have dreamed about since I knew dreams existed...

What will I be then?

I was taught to dream - to dream big.

But not to attack the dream -

to merely wait, to hope,

to believe in it.

But not how to do it.

I was not shown how to attain it.

Dream without acting, believe without being...

Is it possible to learn now?

And where do I turn to find a teacher?

That is all.

Now please, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!!, can I please get back to some funny shi*??? I'm sure your answer is yes and you know what...I actually do feel alot better, lol. Its amazing how that works :).

Still Alive

I'm writing to you sick as a dog. Sick, in the worst week possible. Why? We're moving.

Talk about your roller-coaster month, lol. We've had Lylli's birthday, and serious shortage of the green stuff, Isaac starting 2nd grade and now we are using the last week to move. A week that Sean had taken off for vacation :).
An apartment across the street from Jenn and Chad opened up - that's just something we couldn't refuse. Its only a 2 bedroom, but with the different layout its a lot bigger than what we already have. Except for the stove - an OMG its-so-tiny-and-cute stove.

On top of everything I've been battling depression - depression nearly as bad as it was 3 years ago. I've withdrawn far inside myself and I'm to the point where I dread going out. Every moment where I'm surrounded by other people feels like hell, where I'm on my last possible nerve. I've been taking my meds, so I'm starting to have good days again.
And then I get hit with this stupid sickness. Its the coughing, clogged head, sore throat variety, including shortness of breath. Trust me, I'm a walking joy factory right now, lol.

So, I apologize to anyone that stops by here. I know what its like to check up on my blog friends and keep finding their page unchanged. Just think of/pray for me. I promise to be around more in September. I'll keep working on myself and updating when I can get my head out of my butt, lol.

Hello again :)

I can't remember the last time that I didn't blog for 5 days...it seems unreal. Mainly because days seem to blend into one another lately.
In all likelyhood, 5 days doesn't seem like a long time to any of you - but keeping this blog going daily was one of my goals for the year...and I have been letting myself down quite alot lately. In areas other than blogging, as well.

Since the last time I updated I've made myself busy by plurking and I enjoyed a book,something I haven't done in a long time. I've also run my mom on errands, attended softball games...and mainly just hid.
I go through periods where something will smack me upside the head and I withdraw. I shrink away from everything around me...especially things I enjoy like this blog and my photography...which just makes the feelings worse.

I had planned to blog today about the book I just read. It was not what I thought it was, but by the time I realized it I had already been sucked into its pages and found myself unable to put it down - much like the plot of the book. Its called 'The Historian' by Elizabeth Kostova.
Then I got ready to leave for my husband's softball game and the feelings that I loathe so much crept over me. They crawled onto my skin, blending into the water drops in the shower, so easily that I didn't realize they were there until it was too late. By the time I was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom, naked and alone, they were crawling through my veins and whispering ugly nothings in my brain.
Through them I noticed a new bulge....
By the time we reached the game and every one of my friends and family rushed off to look at a coworker's new truck, they had eaten away at every positive feeling I have about myself and I stood alone in the middle of the parking lot, watching after those I love as they raced to gawk, feeling very out of place.
And then a thought hit me...a thought I have pushed away often in my attempts to shield myself from pain...and nearly knocked me to the ground.
I am the 'token' fat girl.
She is in every group - whether she is just slightly heavier than her Barbie friends, or she is Me...quite larger than those around her. Generally she's loved because she sees life in a fun or interesting way - the sweet one, the listener.......but I am not really any of those things.
Because I live with depression...and don't take my meds often enough, I know.
But that does not hide the fact that I have allowed myself to get way out of control. I can not hide my weight like I did when I was younger. You'd be amazed how well I could hide my 200 pounds in those days. But, dear friends, I am not 200 pounds anymore...not by a long shot.

I'm scared and I'm sad and it feels so hopeless. I have my excuses and I must admit they are lame. I am also tired - tired of the remarks that I hear behind my back, tired of the the sideways glances and stifled giggles of teenage kids, tired of not having clothes that fit, tired of not seeing the woman in the mirror that I feel I am - perhaps I'm just tired enough to finally get my life under control....
Please send kind thoughts my way...pray for me if you do...

At this moment I feel like a single star in the sky - surrounded by millions of other stars, but suddenly aware of the vast distance between us and feeling so very alone.

Not my day..

Let's face it. We all have those days where we wake up and just KNOW that this...is not our day. For some its once every year, for others its every day but one in a year. I fall somewhere in between...I think.

I woke up this morning to a shrill alarm clock interrupting a dream I didn't want to be in anyway...but I'm so lame that I had to know the end. I needed to know if my husband left me and only came back because that tramp he was shagging had a friend who encouraged her to NEVER shut up...or because he realized that he loved me and couldn't live without me. And, I needed to know if I took him back - and why. Did I do it because I felt sorry for him, sorry for myself or because I actually still loved him.

I sat on the edge of the bed for 10 minutes thinking about it. I shuffled into the bathroom and spent 10 minutes staring at myself in the mirror believing that he would actually have every reason in the world to leave me....even if it was for a barking-dog of a woman. Then I spent 5 minutes letting a cigarette burn in my fingers by the back door vowing to only drink water from now on and loose some of this f'ing weight already. Cuz, obviously that was my problem.

I spent 7 hours watching 5 children and wishing I could just get in the van and go sit by the lake at the park and feed the geese...by myself. What I did during that time instead was sit in the middle of pathetic boy fights about pool noodles, legos and water in a tent...and watch Barbie movies. Oh God...I can not forget about the Barbie movies - where even though someone is out to get that blonde bimbo her life is still perfect and still falls for the man of her dreams. Seriously, where did she find the wrap dress on the island anyway?

I really hate myself so I watched '27 Dresses' - and of course she falls for her amazing dream guy in the end. I also took the kids for a ride so I could get more cigarettes and a soda - that I swore this morning I would never drink again. Then, just to cap of my afternoon I drove through the 'rich' neighborhood to ogle the houses that I will most likely never have. I did get to psuedo cuss-out the chic in the Lexus that was tailing me - my dirty green mini-van was not going fast enough for her over-priced, garage-clean luxury sedan.

I have grumped at my husband since he got home - late. I ate a microwave dinner for supper...in the dark...while watching 'Mad Money' (knowing that I would NEVER get away with something like that).

I wanted to blog about my new website that the amazing Melissa created for me. Please check it out HERE.
I wanted to be funny and upbeat - full of life, and hope, and creativity....but it is just NOT my day.

That Psycho Wench Has Struck Again

I did great taking my pills...until they rean out. Isn't that the way life goes? Just when you get used to life being great you get handed a big bowl of crap.

I freaked out tonight after I found the clothes I had folded (the ones I hadn't yet put away) laying on the floor by 2 pairs of his shoes. They were laying in a section of the floor that I had worked VERY hard on cleaning today. I was nice, but I asked him why he didn't just throw them in Ike's drawer instead of the floor.
He was very sweet. Told me how sorry he was and went to the room and picked them up. He told me it was very inconsiderate of him...he knew I had worked hard today to try and make sense of our room.

NOT! It went more like: Sarcasm oozed out of his mouth, along with a little venom and mirth. He blew my words out of proportion and accused me of throwing a fit. He said 'fine, (he'd) do all the laundry and dishes from now on and Hey, why didn't he just quit his job and stay home to take care of the kids to make my life a little easier?'
Then I fell apart and tried to expalin to him what I meant...that a little consideration would be nice and its not a 'my job/his job' situation. I want him to have pride in his room and if he sees something that needs to be done JUST DO IT! Then I mumbled something about being a complete failure and left the room.
A little while later I went outside to find him and try to pick up the pieces of a, otherwise good, day.

We have not fought since I started taking my meds again. I have had the laundry done and things have gone great...until mid-yesterday and little-by-little today. I watched that psychotic wench walk up to my doorstep and ring the bell...and I just opened the door and let her walk right in. She shoved me out as soon as she could and locked the door behind me. I watched her from the window as she blew up all over my life. I banged on the window, I screamed but she would not stop. When she'd had her fun she walked out the door, patted me on the shoulder and said 'Your turn." I HATE her!

No, I don't know when I'll have more meds. I can't afford to go to the doctor and I sure as heck can not afford the pills. My old doc gave me free sample bottles. I don't know what I'm going to do. Please keep me in your prayers and ignore me if I throw a rant or two in here...I'm not myself right now.

Did I mention that she seems 10' tall and bulletproof?

My Parents: My Mom (part 1)

From the time I was in middle school I knew that my family was an oddity. My parents were still together and they were older than all of my friends' parents. I also realized that I would most likely lose one of my parents while I was young. I thought it would be my mother. For as long as I can remember my mother has been in and out of the hospital because of her asthma...my father was pretty healthy until he began coughing one week and couldn't stop. For him it was sudden.

My mother and I never had the typical mother/daughter relationship. I do remember being a little girl and sleeping with her because my father worked the night shift. She would sing or read to me and then hug my back once I fell asleep. I can't be sure when everything changed...I only remember snatches of my childhood. I can look back now and see that all the things I hated her for are reasons why I shouldn't have.
I had a friend when I was 8 that my mom didn't like. I refused to listen to her and it has become a stain on my life. I'm glad to say that I eventually caught on - if my mom had a problem or 'feeling' about someone...she was usually right.
I think our problem was simple in the grand scheme of things - but not to us individually.
My mother has had a hand in raising 4 children - her 3 biological and one of my half-sisters (I'm the youngest of 9). All of them are older than me. My mother's oldest will be 40 this year...I will be 27. See the difference in age?
By the time I came along my mother had plenty of things she felt she needed to feel sorry about and would do anything to make things different for me. She explains that she was too hard on them...was too easy on me in a lot of things. She also says that she let them get away with too much so she kept a tighter clench on me. I wanted to go out with my friends - she swore that I was wanting to go party/have sex/drink/fill in the blank.
My problem was that I watched waaaay too much tv. I saw the mother/daughter relationships where they'd have a fight and the girl would run to her room and mom would come in, sit on her bed and make everything right. Then they'd go shopping and see a movie. I hated her because she did none of those things. I knew in my heart that I was afraid of doing anything 'wrong'...I knew I would never do the things she accused me of wanting to do so I hated her for not believing me.

Looking back I see a lot of her in me and I understand her more...but it makes me sad that we're only now seeing things as they were. Now I can see that a 300+ lb woman does not want to go to her child's school concerts, out to eat, shopping or to see a movie because she will be seen and judged. I can remember being a child to a 300+ pound woman and glaring down/confronting people who felt they needed to say something behind her back. I may have been a rebellious, bratty daughter but I cared about her feelings and I would NOT stand for people putting her down or confirming her suspicions.
I always felt she didn't love me because she didn't come to any of my things or want to spend time with me. I can realize now, after living with depression and obesity, that she loved me a LOT but didn't know how to cope with her depression.
She also had to deal with being in the hospital at least once a month because of her chronic asthma. The weight was a product of the prednisone (steroid) that she had been on for longer than I can remember - the treatment for asthma at the time.

Tomorrow - teenage years and beyond. If this isn't interesting you can skip it...its just another one of those things I feel is a necessity to write about.

My Lifelong (unwanted) Companion

I can look back and see depression littered throughout my life. I can remember hiding in our front room in the couch cushions just wishing that I could curl up and disappear. I must have been 10 or 11 at the time. At 12 I had an 'episode'...that until this moment only one other person has known about...where I began pacing my room and my hallway muttering things under my breath. I felt alone, sad, and I kept thinking how I 'screwed everything up.' My best friend followed behind me asking what was wrong. I knew it, I could hear her...I just couldn't stop myself.
Thankfully that has never happened again.
I was always the quiet kid. Read too many books that none of my friends had ever heard of, engrossed myself in movies and pretend worlds, listened to classical music and opera. I was the thoughtful person...who watched people long before she chose to interact with them. While these things do not classify me as being depressed...they do show that I was a bit of a loner, too old for my age. And I was very aware of it.
While we lived in Alabama (years 8-15) my father was diagnosed with a rare lung disease called Sarcoidosis. It was a product of work environment, small lungs, and the lime plants that were in our area. My best friend and go-anywhere-anytime dad suddenly had to have oxygen 24/7...and missed work for the first time in my life. I began writing poetry (or what I call poetry) that had nothing to do with him but I see now that it was a product of all that was happening. Many other changes happened to my family and life at that time...most of which I can not write about here because it would tell at least one person's private story, and I love this person too much to write about things that I have no business writing about.
Between the ages of 15-16 I was raped and dated a man that I consider the devil incarnate (more on that at another time as well).
At the end of 2003 my father's health took a nose-dive when Pulmonary Hypertension was added to the list. I also began suffering from anemia - and didn't know it. I worked for a daycare (as center director) with a woman I considered a good friend and second mother. One day she told me she had noticed I had gained weight, was not pulling helping out enough with the construction of the new daycare center (because all my free time was being spent with my dad)...and that I needed to get my priorities straight. When I found out in December that I was pregnant I informed her that I would be leaving. I had gotten my priorities straight...just not in the way she was thinking.
I took my father to dr's appointments, listened as the doctor told him there was nothing more they could do, and watched everyone else be able to tell him goodbye. I didn't...I thought if I did he would realize it was the end and let go. My mother didn't as well...and that has been our bond since he left. (I will write about her on a later date.) I waged a war with my father's side of the family when I told them he wanted to be cremated...in the end he was not.
In February 9th of '04 he passed away. My mother, her children (who my father loved as his own) and my fathers other children sat on the side of the mortuary chapel...alienated from my father's side of the family. I was aware I was responsible but my mother and I sat there with our heads high and let the tears come as we said goodbye. We knew him, we loved him, we were there through the sickness and the good times.
In August my daughter was born, the daughter he would never meet on this earth, and I spiraled. It had been a hard pregnancy and after she was born I finally allowed my body to grieve...but it pushed me further into depression than I have ever gone before...and I didn't know it until late in '05. I didn't want to work, I only wanted to sleep. I had no desire to go anywhere and my house completely fell apart. I screamed at everyone...my kids and Sean included. I did not want to talk to people and was often rude, not being able to stop myself. Which just made everything worse because I would fall apart later. My husband was not supportive, could not understand and just told me to 'get over it' or 'snap out of it' and lived on the computer content with his online war games. He did not 'believe' in medication for things like depression or bi-polar disorders...he felt it was just a state of mind. He has since learned that is not the case. My mother moved in with us...then moved out a bit later.
Around June of '05 I discovered the internet game-chats....made friends and had fun. I felt free, happy...and it nearly destroyed my world. Sean and I came very close to getting a divorce, until one night we both lost our minds. We cried, we talked, we finally said everything honestly and openly. I talked to my doctor about what was going on and she told me I had depression. I didn't see it that way. We talked some more and it was like the lightbulb went on and I could have dropped right there. We tried one drug...it didn't work for me. Then she prescribed Cymbalta...one I had seen on tv. It totally changed my life.
But...as with all other medications, I had a hard time remembering to take it. It was during the time of 'relapse' that I would realize just how different I was without it. I saw the extent of the change and tried to take it as often as possible.
Since we've been here I've not taken it until the other night. I could hear myself yelling at the kids, needing a cigarette every 5-10 minutes, wanting to run out of the house for a few hours and just leave them all here...I would not have done that, but I have wanted to. I have not wanted to go anywhere or do anything...the deer was getting closer to the car. It struck the other night and I collapsed on the porch. My husband wiped a tear off my cheek and went to look in the garage for my medicine. I realize now how far he's come. I know it has not been easy living with me (trust me, he's not always a peach :)).
It is a daily fight, it is a disease and it can destroy you. It affects people differently.

I have felt an overwhelming urge to share this for a few weeks. I don't know why...maybe someone else needs to read this. Maybe I just needed to write it....

I'm back

You really need to go read Melissa's game experience. I came back from a nap to find the message from her saying that my recent SIMS experience triggered an old memory. I really needed the laugh...thanks Melissa :).

Like I said, I took about an hour nap before Jenn needed to leave for work at 2. I woke up with her face inches from mine...man that is a freaky experience. My son used to do it all the time...in the middle of the night...and I would wake up with a shadow in the doorway or breathing on my face. I'm naturally a very jumpy person, too may bad life experiences, so things like this nearly make me lose it. Especially with the dreams I have sometimes. I shook for about two minutes, but we laughed about it. Its not the first time she's done that...and at least she isn't a shadow :).

Like I said earlier I began to take my Cymbalta again. For those that don't know, it is a depression medicine. I have a post I'm working on about my depression...look for it tomorrow. Its really too important to try to fit everything in right here. Quickly though, I will say this. Last night I mentioned to my husband that I had felt it coming for a couple of days. Since he's the type to say "just get over it" I searched my mind for a life comparison and this is what I came up with.
I have 2 variations of my depression (2 major ones anyway). 1. You're driving down the road, going 60 miles an hour, singing to the radio and happy out of your mind - thing you are hit from all 4 sides by diesel's. 2. You're driving along and notice a deer running beside you. You know that if you hit it your car will be totaled and there will be serious trouble. You believe you can outrun it...but eventually it swerves in front of you...leaving confusion and destruction in its wake. Recently it has been the second one...and it hit me hard last night.

On the brighter side, I feel lighter today. It could be because nothing is left in my stomach...but I believe its because of the breakdown. And, because my husband is beginning to understand. I can only hope that is the case. When you are depressed you need those that love you, or that you are closest to, to just give you a hug, wipe a tear away or tell you they love you. Its amazing how much those little things can make a difference. If you know someone that is suffering with depression today...could you please just take a few moments to call/talk to them and tell you that you love them...give them a hug if you can. It will let a little light into the darkness, a light they search for every day that the disease is ravaging their bodies.

And this link will show you that being kind and dealing with 'mean' people can reward you in the end...not that you should do it for a reward but...oh just read the article..lol.

Lame Post Ahead

I may be back around with something later today, but I need a shower and some serious rest. It did happen...I was sick all night long. I don't think its possible that anything else could have come out of me.
I'm sore and tired. Sore is not even a good descriptor...more like 'I feel like I've been hit by a truck...and then it backed over me." There we go...better.

On a side note, and worthy of a post very soon, I've started taking my cymbalta again. I think I may have thrown up the first dose. That's the way things happen sometimes.

Holy Cow its December 1st!!!

I'll admit the title is a little melodramatic. I just can't believe its nearly Christmas and the end of the year. Where did it go? I guess its true...the older you get the more time will fly by. Once you hit your major teenage milestones the snowball just speeds up until you reach the bottom of the hill.
I can remember waiting...until I hit 13, 16, 18 and 21. Although, my 16-21 was spent engaged, married and living as a mother..lol.

I may be leaving for Kansas tomorrow. Thank you for the well-wishes...I plan on just taking some time to sort things out and relax. My husband and I finally had a long talk last night. I explained that I feel as though I've hit a crossroads. I can see myself just standing there, at an intersection. I know where the road straight-ahead will take me...its the one I'm afraid of. The one to my right has a long, elevated suspension bridge and the one to my left....well, its there. I know what it all means and no, I didn't go into this much detail when I was talking to him. But there were things that I had to say. I went to bed drained last night, yet so much lighter. These thoughts and feelings have been threatening to suffocate me in the last couple of weeks...it just gets worse and worse. I'm glad that I talked to him before I left....it has much bearing on the things that I will think about as I sit on my mom's apartment balcony with hot chocolate and a cigarette and ponder where my life is going.

On top of feeling better from last night I managed to get 5 loads of laundry done today and PUT AWAY!!! And...I even took an hour nap! I know, I'm wonderwoman :).

I NEED out of this house...

The funk I've been in lately just won't seem to go away and I'm contemplating going back on the medication. If I'm forced to be alone with myself, I need to at least be able to not make myself want to ram my head into a brickwall.
Because of my feelings lately I really need to get out of this house. Away from kids, away from the baby gate, away from t.v. and computer. I knew yesterday that a breaking point was coming if I didn't breathe fresh air that existed beyond my front porch and I knew that my husband would be off today (Sunday) so maybe I could take a break. 5 minutes after he walked in the door he said "We're gonna take the boys to (a friend's dad's) tomorrow."
I can not even begin to describe what the little cartoon character version of myself was doing at that moment. She was screaming, crying, throwing a fit in the floor...and then her head exploded. I, on the other hand, tried to remain cool and not freak out because I knew that my husband doesn't understand things like that and I'd end up feeling worse because I had started another fight with my utter selfishness. Tried was the key word there. Tears sprang to my eyes and I busied myself with emptying the dishwasher. Darn him though...he noticed and asked what was wrong in that 'Oh My God, she's crying AGAIN' attitude. Now ladies...what is the automatic response in this situation when you KNOW its only going to become a fight?? "Nothing" He asked again and I then became the martyr "Nothing...I'm fine." He walked away, typical.
Supper came and went and while outside for a smoke he asked again, "What was wrong with you earlier." This time nothing would just not be enough and I was right. We had a huge fight where I was told that I had him last weekend...that should be enough for a while. Does he not understand what its like being the only adult in the house for the majority of 5 days, with 5 kids...when I know they have a day off coming I'm super excited because I can look forward to speech without being accompanied by screaming, crying or excessive whining.
Well, this led to other topics to be argued and ended with me crying, alone on the front porch telling God that I just can't do this anymore. I don't even have a chance to photograph anything...the moment I think about stealing a few seconds Baby H will get into something, Lyll will be crying because she is in a room she doesn't want to be in and I need to open the gate so she can get wherever she's destined to be. Big H will be throwing a fit because I asked him to stay in the living room with the baby...which he was doing anyway, but now that I asked him to be there its a living hell. Ike and P will get into a fight because they can't keep their body parts away from the other one. Its just never ending and I NEED TO GET OUT!!!

Know what I mean? (btw, that is a phrase that annoys me. You know, when someone uses it over and over again in the same sentence??)