The Last Five Years

Five years ago my husband decided he wanted to change careers.  It would mean he would have to leave for six months of training and that we would have to move somewhere, but had no say in where.  It was a complete crap shoot if he would make it through all the levels of the hiring process. I supported him because I didnt want him living with regrets and I didnt want to be the reason for regrets. He was unhappy and stuck with his current job, I didnt like my job, we weren't comitted to living where we were living the rest of our lives, so why not?

A year and a half later, he makes it through the entire hiring process and leaves for training.  I had six months to sell our house, find a new house and find a new job for myself while working full time and being a single parent to two kids.  When my parents found out about this, they lost it. They accused me of walking away from them and leaving them to die. I am an only child and my mom thinks I am her life, except when she thinks I'm an ungrateful bitch, or leaving her to die, or won't let her manipulate me into hating my dad. 

 I made it through all that shit and we moved to Mississippi. The fucking cesspool of the country.  Every sterotype you can think of about Mississippi is true. I often say time travel is possible when you live in Mississippi. You travel back in time when you get here and into the future when you leave. In someplaces, I swear time stopped in the 50s.

 About six months after we moved here, problems my son has had since he was one, problems that everyone told me he would outgrow, started becoming worse problems. When he was one, he would hit stuff if he was frustrated. He was kicked out of a daycare at three because the daycare thought he was a liability. Every time I tried to get help, people told me he would outgrow it, or I just needed to do this or that with him. I tried fucking everything and nothing worked. He would have raging fits where he would bang his head on the floor over the littlest thing.   He was in kindergarten now and he would still throw uncontrollabe tantrums and they were only getting worse. So, I found a therapist for him. She sucked. That summer he got kicked out of a summer camp for choking a kid three times in two days. I took him for an evaluation where they found nothing wrong with him other than he was highly intelligent - top 99% of the population. They suggested therapy again. I found a new therapist.

During that same summer, I got a phone call from the sheriff's dept in TN telling me my mother had been arrested for domestic violence.  Apparently, my dad had become delusional and was convinced my mom was going to kill him. He was trying to build this case of her being violent towards him so she would go to jail. He was also getting back at her for when she threw him in jail 20 years ago. Sooooo, all night to TN to bail my mom out of jail. My mom has just as many crazy problems as my dad. At the same time, my dad was missing (long story in itself, but I found him). Also, since my mom had been arrested on domestic violence charges, she couldnt go home.  For two and a half months!!!  She had no place to go other than my house. Oh Fucking Joy!!! While at my house, she had many tantrums and told me my husband didn't care if she died because he wouldn't stop chasing my two year old daughter that he was trying to get in the bath and fix a wrinkle in a rug so she could sit down.  I had to do SOMETHING to get her out of my house, so I took time off work and drove back to TN and went to court to get permission for her to move back to her house. My dad was now living in Arkansas with my grandma.  I made at least two more round trips up there and in the end, my mom ending up moving to Mississippi. Oh fucking Joy.  I had JUST gotten away from them and now she was moving five minutes away from me. Again.

During this whole time I'm miserable. My job sucks and I've left everything that I had in TN. It's impossible to make friends here unless you are from here, belong to a country club and go to church. I have NOTHING in common with these people. Nothing!  

My son starts first grade and the problems start again. He gets suspended twice for hurting kids and if he does anything else he will be kicked out of school. He goes to a private school. He NEEDS to be in this school because of his intelligence. He would be swallowed alive in public school down here. His school even told me I needed to start finding options other than public school for him. I'm a fucking mess!  A year of Therapy has done nothing for him!  I finally decide he needs medication. My sweet kind hearted seven year old son needs medication. He is my child through and through. I have blamed myself to the heavens because he is sick just like me. I've also had my whole childhood dug up because I'm living every painful part of it again - thru him. He is seven and says he wants to die.  I finally find one of the only child psychiatrists in this hell hole and diagnosis him with ODD which is Oppositional  Defiant Disorder and gives him drugs. Ahhhhh. Drugs!  Finally!!!  Well, we go back for a follow up and the doctor decides my son has ADHD too. I'm livid because we had him tested by an world renowned ADHD expert who said he didn't have it.  At this point, I thought maybe I was living in denial.  Maybe he does have ADHD, what the fuck do I know anyway?  So we start him on ADHD drugs and they make him crazy hyper. 

Then I get arrested. Because a black cop with a massive chip on his shoulder in Mississippi thought a white woman in a minivan and her three year old thought I cussed him out. He called reinforcement cops in and my husband had to come get my daughter because I was going to jail.   I was so pissed, so I decided to go psycho on this man. There is nothing worse than being in a car with a screaming child, so I started screaming my head off. It drove him bonkers. It's all I could do to keep functioning at that moment. While I was sitting in that jail cell waiting to be released I wanted to die. I wanted to walk out in front of a train and end it all. But, I couldn't do that. Suicide is the most selfish act and my son was fucked up enough.  The arrest happened a year ago and it still isn't resolved. I have to go back to court in June for it. 

After I got arrested, I started an intensive outpatient therapy program.  It helped some. I learned to start putting up "healthy" boundries with my mother.   I dealt with a lot of shit from when I was a kid.  A year later, I'm still in therapy and still figuring shit out. 

My son started second grade and problems started again.  More suspensions.  But this year he has an amazing teacher.  She adores him  and sees the sweet child that he is.  My son's doctor is still fucking around with medication and FINALLY decides that my son DOESN'T have ADHD and just has a hard time living in a world of mere mortals because of his intelligence.  NO FUCKING SHIT YOU DUMBASS!!!!!  I had this conversation with him months prior and he thought I was an idiot!  Moron! 

Then I got arrested again. Seriously, WTF God?  Haven't I been through enough?  Isn't being arrested once in a twelve month period enough?  Apparently not.  And this time, my husband was in Vegas for a guy's weekend with his brothers.   I got pulled over for an expired tag and discovered my license had been suspended. I had NO CLUE I was driving with a suspended license.  I guess God was sort of on my side, because this cop just took me to the station and let me post bail. No jail this time. But guess who had to some pick me up?  My mom. 

Now that my son is doing better and I'm able to put that stress behind me, I'm realizing my marriage has been a mess ever since my husband got his new job.   It just doesn't fucking end. And my parents are having crazy spells again.   I have managed to make one friend. I tried to make another friend, but she quit talking to me after she realized I wasn't going to drink her curch kool-aid. Even though our kids adored each other. But you know what, I don't need that kind of drama in my life. 

This is a cliff note version hitting the highlights of the last four years of my life.  I have been in a deep deep hole for a very long time. Not realizing how deep that hole was, but finding out that it could go deeper and deeper.   I think I'm starting to slowly get better. Things that go wrong don't send me into an abyss of despair like they used to. I can actually fall asleep without melatonin some nights.

Baby steps.

I'm Done Feeling Sorry

Dear Magnus:

I'm sorry you don't feel appreciated.  Join the fucking club.

You leave for a TWO week business trip in a pissy mood saying you will feel much better when you have some time to yourself, but you come back in a pissier mood than when you left.  You knew I had a shitty week and you knew I was sick, but you still came back not being able to deal with two whinny kids for one fucking night to give me a break.  I'm sorry the long drive made you tired, but fucking suck it up!

I'm sorry our daughter's birthday party was on your birthday and I didn't have time to do anything special for YOUR day.  I know, it's my fault that it was the first available weekend we had to have the party.  Hell, it's my fault she was born four days before your birthday.  If you would have just been patient, you would have been surprised with your own birthday cake next weekend.  I suggested that we go out to brunch on Sunday, but instead you wanted me to get the kids out of the house so you could watch a basketball game.  I'm also sorry I didn't respond to your request with an enthusiastic "YES".  Because the last thing I wanted to think about after running around all week getting ready for our daughter's birthday party was how to entertain two kids for three hours outside the house.

I'm sorry that when I was truly losing my mind when our son was struggling I didn't want you to work late.  I should've sucked it up better when he would scream his head off the entire way home from school that he hated himself and punched himself in the head.  I'm sure you could've gotten dinner prepared nightly while two kids were bickering and screaming they were starving and refused every snack you offered them and fought over who was watching what in what room.  You keep brining it up, but you haven't seemed to notice the times I haven't said a word when you wanted to work a special shift or needed to go out of town for work.

I'm sorry you think I make you feel guilty about changing careers and having to leave for months of training while I sold our house, worked full time, looked for a new house and looked for a new job.  But guess what???  I can't MAKE you feel guilty about anything.  That's all you honey.

Finally, I'm sorry for getting you in trouble at work.  I'm sorry you hate our house because it's always a mess.  I'm sorry I don't do the dishes I use to cook the food you eat as often as you like because I hate it when you put trash in the sink and it gets wet and nasty.  I'm sorry I don't take out the trash more because you cram it so full I can't find the top of the bag without having to dig six inches into the trash.

And now, I'm done feeling sorry.  I'm not going to blame myself for this shit anymore.  I am doing the best I can, I am only human and I am far from perfect.

Love,

Your wife

My Celebrity Crushes

The last time I hade a serious celebrity crush, I was 15 and my crush was Donnie Walberg from New Kids On The Block.

For some reason, at thirty something I've developed several new celebrity crushes. Here are my top three:

Dan Stevens - AKA Cousin Matthew on Downton Abbey

Look at those beautiful blue eyes!

I have a serious weakness for period dramas, whether it's a book, movie, or TV show. I also have a weakness for men with beautiful eyes and British accent. He also seems like a fairly decent human being, on and off the screen.


Allan Haff - Auction Hunters on Spike TV

Not only is Allan HOT, but I love his personality. He has such ethisiasm and a fun outlook on life.

Here is one of his Facebook updates:
    
Yes, anything worth doing is worth doing correctly BUT (sorry, i like big buts) WHATEVER you are doing today, don't just do IT correctly, do that thing like a rockstar! Make it do, what it DO! When you need to go make copies, MOVE LIKE JAGGAR though those cubicles. Don't just hand in your report, slam that sucker down into the inbox like Shaq would & finish the dunk with a good pelvic thrust! I don't think Shaq actually did that, but hey that was his missed opportunity, because today you will not hide your bright light under a bushel! Soon they will call you the Carl Lewis of customer service reps! Take it from me, Allen HAFF "The Indian Jones of junk dealers" If YOU can believe in it, then you can sell it to others and then the really good things can start to happen. 




And Last but not least...


Philip Phillips - American Idol

I just started watching American Idol a few weeks ago and I could kick myself for not watching from the beginning.  I cheated myself out of weeks of watching him perform.

I don't know what it is about Philip, but he just has some sort of super sexy vibe about him.  He also seems to have a good sense of humor because of the way he's always joking around on stage.  And let's not forget he can sing and play the guitar.  Another thing I have a weakness for!

My New Worry

I got this email from my mom the other night:

After the ballgame thurs. nite, dad told me when he was giving the photographer info for evan's pics he couldn't remember your or D's names for a bit.  The pics will come to us.  I know you have enough in your own life to deal with, but I'm telling you the following bcause I may need help w/dad & I don't want a phone call to take you by surprise.

I went w/him to his psych appt yesterday & told the dr. what happened while dad was at the restrm.  When dad came in he asked the dr. if I had told him I want to buy a new honda & won't consider a lease (not a word about his memory lapse).  Truth is we decided last sun. to keep the cars we have & had his car towed to the shop because it kept stalling when we tried to take it out.  Dr. Norton got him back on the subject, addressed the fact that he was beligerant w/me & decided to drop Seraquel & add Abilify.  On the way to the lab dad told me never to contradict him again & was very agitated.  He wouldn't calm down, Dr. N was called & he told me that if I couldn't calm dad down he should be taken to the ER for further eval.  I asked dad what dr.  told him about his meds, he said he was upset, couldn't really remember--he guessed take what he was taking before.  I was afraid to drive him, so he was transported & I met him at UMC ER.
ER dr. eval., called Dr. N & they prescribed Clonipan for aggitation & anx.  It may affect memory adversely so it's also diagnostic.  If memory is any worse, calling Dr. N's office next wk. & an MRI will be scheduled.    Clonipan was supposed to make dad sleepy, but he was up at 3 am when I went to bathrm.  He hasn't been back to sleep.

I'll deal w/him as well as I can.

Now for a little background.  My mother is more toxic than a nuclear waste dump.  If you were to meet her on the street, you would never know it.  She'd come across as a nice sweet lady, but for me highly toxic.

My dad had one of these certifiably crazy spells about two years ago.  During that spell, he had my mom arrested for domestic violence.  He was CONVINCED my mom was either going to stab him with a knife in his sleep or get a gun and shoot him.  My mother, with serious arthritis in her hands was going to stab a 300 lb. man to death.  They were leaving in Tennessee at the time and I live in Mississippi.  I had to drive all night to bail her out of jail.  Because she was arrested for domestic, she couldn't go home for two and half months, that's when the next court date was.  Soooo, she moved in with us and promptly became convinced my husband wanted her dead.  Right.

I had already lost my mind from 100 other things going on in my life and this just sent me over the deep end.  Somehow I managed to get through this, but I was broken.  Broken like I hadn't been broken since I was in high school.  

I've been in therapy learning how to keep my mother outside of my electrified picket fence, but she still tries to open that gate.  When she tries to open that gate, I become a mess.  A big fat mess.

Maybe I should wear this sign around my neck every time I see her:

Me, A Perfectionist?

Several years ago, my psychiatrist casually mentioned I was a perfectionist. I almost fired here, because she obviously didn't know me very well. I never in a million years thought of myself as a perfectionist. I am perfectly ok with walking out of the house with no make up, my WHITE van hasn't been washed in a year and my dinning room table is a mess. I'm an accountant and I've NEVER balanced my bank statemnt for goodness sake!

My living room.  This is NOT the living room of a perfectionist!

My mom on the other hand, is the definition of a perfectionist. She's the kind of person that washes the dishes BEFORE they go in the dishwasher. When I was a kid, she would check to make sure every last speck of food was off a dish before I could put the dish in the dishwasher. When I cleaned the bathrooms, she would check to see if there was any gunk still lurking around the base of the faucet. If she found something, hi ho, hi ho, back to scrubbing I went. To this day, she will only wear her white tennis shoes on special occasions, so they stay blindgly white.

What my psychiatrist said kept nagging at me though. What did she mean that I was a "perfectionist". I really did respected her and thought she was a pretty bad ass shrink. And then, it finally started hitting me. I AM a perfectionist. I am a perfectionist because:

• I am a HUGE procrastinator. Why do today what you can put off until next week? Besides, I worked better under pressure. Nothing like a huge deadline to motivate me to get a bunch of stuff done.

• I have a HUGE fear of failure, which is the real reason I procrastinate. Lately, I've been having a very hard time making descions. Especiaaly if it's something I've previously screwed up.

• I have self esteem that always seems to find a new low. It makes complete sense to have low self esteem as a perfectionist. Perfectionism and self esteem are a viscious downward spiral. You're convinced you can't do anything right, which gives you low self esteem and the low self esteem makes you even more critical of yourself. AWESOME!!!

• In certain circumstances, I can be very defensive. The area I struggle the most with this is my job. I feel like my job demands an unattainable level of perfection, and I try very hard to do my very best. But, my boss will call me out on the most ridiculous things and I lose it. Big time!

While I'm coming to terms with the fact I'm a perfectionist and that's a big step, I can't help but beat myself up for not being perfect.

Why I'm Here

My therapist has been nagging me to attend group therapy, but I have been very resistant to go. Probably because I am afraid it will help me. I'm afraid of what else I will discover about myself and I'm afraid of letting go of all the crap I've done such a great job of holding on to the last 37 years.

My therapist has also told me I should write. Is there a therapist that DOESN'T rccommend writing??? But, I hate writing. Writing scares me. It scares me because I'm afraid I'm not going to say something grammatcally correct or not use puntuation properly. Oh the pressure!

So, I've started this blog as a form of group therapy and to get myself writing. It is my hope that I can share my insights and gain the insights of others.