Monthly Archives: January 2015

Mood tracking isn’t kid friendly

I don’t want to put my mood tracking stuff in any posts marked kid-friendly. To me that is part of the dividing line. Which means 500 words is about as many as I can manage in a row before I’m like “Yeah that’s how kid-friendly I can be.” Good grief.

Today is very different from yesterday. Today I’m not angry. I don’t feel any rage. Instead it is anxiety. The fact that I get angry like I did yesterday is fully reason enough for me to deserve terrible punishment and for everyone to stop talking to me forever. Even if I didn’t say anything to anyone. Even if I didn’t do anything… I could and that’s enough for me to deserve PERMANENT SHUNNING.

And even that sounds more intense than I really feel right this minute. If my anxiety runs up and down from 0-10 I’m probably only at like 6 or 7. I feel a little bit of self-assurance that I didn’t blow up a relationship yesterday even though I was a bad person having feeeeeeeeeeeelings but I could have and that’s enough to deserve punishment. I’m going to take a moment to lovingly rub the insides of my cheeks with my tongue where they are currently macerated and tell myself thank Gawd it isn’t a 10 Anxiety Day.

Our second baby-sitter quit already. Well, more accurately she called and said she could no longer work during the week at all (stuff with her kids) and she has no-showed more than 50% of the weekend hours she was supposed to work. So I told her that I will look for someone else. Half quitting half getting fired? It was a nice dream while it lasted. I liked her. She was nice and she worked really well with the kids but if someone is only available on the weekends and they only show up half the time on the weekends… that doesn’t work for me. And she was the only person who would interview. Ha.

I have emailed my former student who is listen on the baby-sitting site. Technically the hours I want are outside the window she lists on her profile and that is why I didn’t ask her first. But the hours I want only extend one hour outside her preferred window so I sent her an email today asking if it is horribly rude to inquire about hours outside what she advertised. We’ll see what she says. I would actually be really excited to work with her. She was one of the ones who hung out with me a lot during breaks and after school. I like her a lot. AND she’s super physically active and might be better than me at teaching Shanna how to ride a bike. I’d be super thrilled with that bonus. She is one of the students who taught for me when I had substitutes.

When I was a teacher I had a very firm policy: my classes should run like a clock. The students need to have the routine so ingrained that they can do it whether I am there or not. So when I knew I had to be absent in advance I would select one student from each period and have them come in during lunch before my absence. We would go over the lesson plan and I would answer all the questions they had. Then each period had their own fellow-student-teacher-of-the-day. Subs loved me. They all would give me their personal phone numbers and beg that I call them first when I had to be out because my classes were so easy.

I miss teaching. I was good at it and that is a validating feeling.

I haven’t been good about getting to homeschool events lately. I was sick then it was the holidays. I think I need to figure out pieces of my attitude about the home schooling community. I’m having a hard time figuring out where I fit. I haven’t ever felt like I fit anywhere. This is not a problem based on the people in the group. I could find things to complain about (and in person I do…) but really I think this group of people is really awesome. I feel very lucky to have found this home schooling community. It doesn’t exist everywhere.

Some times I have big feelings in the direction of the group organizer. It happens. She does not exist solely to fill my needs and I have feelings about that. Sheesh. How dare she. But she has kept a group going for a very long time. I respect that. I respect what it takes to put your head down and keep plugging along even though it is hard and people come and go and you never know what you can depend on. I have deep appreciation for her hard work. I couldn’t do it. I’m grateful that she is there providing the background structure that I’m allowed to drop-in and join when I can and there isn’t a lot of guilt about me not showing up when I can’t.

So the fact that she doesn’t live and exist to meet my needs is something I can forgive and all. I have my feelings and they aren’t her fault or problem. But I need to figure out how to interact with someone who is that steady and there and in charge. That is a kind of figurehead I have had a lot of trouble with historically.

She must have a plan that moves on forward without me. I’m not dependable. I have deep respect for that. But that means that sometimes I have a hard time seeing how I fit into the group. That’s not her fault. I’m not blaming her.

Fuck talking about this stuff is hard.

It is really frustrating and hard sometimes that I know so many really busy people. If you don’t happen to have a perfect scheduling line up you get bupkis. I really struggle with not taking it personally.

I know it isn’t personal. Other people are centering their lives around them and that is right and appropriate.

It is really hard seeing where I fit. I’m so hard. I’m so picky. I have so many stupid nit-picky things that I will completely fly off the handle about and… gawd I’m not fair.

I get so angry. Does my anger make me unsafe? Or just uncomfortable to be around? Is it ok for me to make people uncomfortable? Is making people uncomfortable the same thing as bullying or abuse?

It is very hard to see how there might be a space for me in a community unless the community is looking for a new bully.

I am so defensive that I am on offensive enough that I am scared I’m a problem. I don’t know how to evaluate this.

Relatively high anxiety day.

And now… it’s time for the babysitter to go home. I should stop typing. Whoa anxiety. Shaking. Stupid body.

 

Dropping off the van adventure

My friend said her son wanted to know why she was laughing and she couldn’t tell him because she was reading one of my adult-only posts. That made me think, “I really should try for more kid-friendly writing. I’ve been being lazy.”

Today I dropped the van off to have a tow hitch installed. Since I have a camp trailer put together on my driveway I should probably have some way of moving it around other than me picking it up and pulling it by hand. I am thrilled to once again be using the nice mechanic right on the other side of the railroad tracks. Kris is really nice and competent. We’ve been working with him for years and haven’t had a complaint. For me that is just about a miracle. I can find something to complain about with just about anyone.

As I was getting ready to leave the shop to walk home Kris offered to give me a ride home. I told him I was looking forward to the walk and I brought a brand new book to start. He asked how I could read while I walk. I laughed and told him that I’ve been doing it for decades. I told him I wouldn’t be able to read 50-200 books a year if I didn’t know how to multi-task reading and other tasks. He looked shocked and said he doesn’t read one book a year. He said, “That must be why you are a reader–because you are a writer.”

I said, “Actually you have it backwards. You can’t be a writer without being a reader. You have to have the fluency with words and it only comes from exposure to other peoples writing.” He looked kind of puzzled but he nodded and smiled and waved.

It was an adventure because I realized on the walk home that I left the keys in my pocket. Whoops. The walk should have been right around two miles. Instead it was 3.6 miles. That’s ok, the exercise is good for me. I read 80 pages of my book. (Book 4 in the Immortals Quad. Yay Daine!)

While I was walking the kind babysitter was at home doing one of the sewing projects the kids got for Christmas. This kit is hard enough that Calli really can’t do most of the work. She’s thrilled with the results but I’m kind of a whiny butt about doing the work. I was so happy to pawn it off on the babysitter today. Calli and the babysitter had fun. They both learned new skills. Before I left the house to drop off the van I had to teach them back stitches and running stitches. I had no idea I even know that much about sewing. I surprise myself all the darn time. Shanna regularly comments when I’m doing these projects with them, “You complain a lot but you seem to know what you’re doing.” Yeah. I’m like that.

Noah tells me that I like to have something to complain about. I wish he weren’t right.

On Friday I go to have the last board cut to fit the trailer. I should probably schedule an appointment with DMV to bring the trailer in so I can get a license plate. I am feeling overwhelmingly like a grown up.

We won’t be able to get a schedule match with home schoolers for a camping trip this spring, well not a group trip. One family says maybe… but they hate to camp and they don’t know if they can because of custody. Heh. I appreciate that you are willing to consider it at all given that you hate camping.

I’m torn between wanting to ask other (adult) friends and being scared of more rejection. Being a grown up was supposed to be easier than this! (Err, we are looking at the weekend of April 17/18/19 and I have a spare tent and an extra air mattress…)

The good stuff.

When we came home from the park I stayed in my room for an hour or so writing. After that I came out and spent time with Noah and the kids. It was a pretty good night.

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to just be angry all the time because flipping up and down sucks. But I’m glad for every happy moment with my kids.

What a day.

The first conversation of the day went well. We didn’t yell. We kept our voices quiet. We both talked about our big feelings and why we have been behaving the way we have. I feel like I heard her boundaries (there are several topics of conversation I just won’t bring up again and if she brings it up my role is, “ok”). One can never tell if one is heard or not. We cried. We hugged. The future will tell what comes of all that.

Then it turns out my therapist and I got off-schedule and she had a different client in for an appointment and I didn’t get to have the second difficult conversation of the day. Instead I felt upset. Which is… not an improvement over getting to be done with the second difficult conversation. I have since emailed her and discovered that we got off-kilter enough that we won’t be seeing one another at all in January. I… am strangely kind of happy about that. No problem.

Then I went to the park. Today was A Day. I had Big Feelings. I don’t think I shit all over anyone. But man I had Big Feelings.

A few days ago I messaged the group and asked if we could start negotiations for the spring group camping trip. Some people in the group read that as I was proposing that we start talking about the whole group trip. Yay! The organizer of the group read it as, “Krissy is going to go do her thing with a few people.”

I’m having feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelings. They will be going camping without me. The four weekends in April/May that would work for me don’t work for anyone else. That isn’t anyones “fault” and I’m not angry with anyone but I’m having feelings. I feel disappointed. I feel like I should stop trying to host things through this home school group because sometimes they go well and frequently I end up feeling like I’m trying to be part of a group but I’m not really and would I just stop interrupting what THEY want to do already?! (Scheduling is fucking hard with this big of a group. Everyone has conflicting schedules. I don’t think that everyone needs to be available at my beck and call. I feel grumpy that five months of notice isn’t enough to get people to even be willing to talk to me. I feel grumpy that when I say “group camping trip” that is read as “Krissy doing her thing”.)

Jokes were made multiple times today such that I spent a lot of time literally bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood to keep from responding nastily because I didn’t think they were funny. I finally left the park when one mom asked me where I had been and I said, “In the bathroom” and she responded, “Well we didn’t know where you were. Next time check in.”

I almost lost my shit.

I “understand” that she was “playing”.

I have huge triggers around bathroom control. When I was a high school teacher I had a sheet of paper on a table by the door. If you have to go to the bathroom, sign yourself out and just go. Legally I have to be able to say I knew where you were the whole time but I don’t want to talk about it–just go. I don’t want someone asking me about my bathroom habits. I have huge issues going back decades to bathroom control issues. I am completely not fucking ok with someone telling me that I should check in before going to the bathroom. I almost went up like a fucking Roman candle.

My cheeks hurt really bad from biting myself. My tongue hurts really badly. Eating will be festive for days.

In better-news I spent a while talking to a mom who has a background kind of like mine. Incest/many rapes. One of the biggest differences between us is she has been much less stable during adulthood. Many active suicide attempts after having many children. So a whole order of magnitude more complicated than my issues, in my opinion. I’m an asshole and I’m convinced I don’t matter and I cry a lot and I don’t have a lot of will to live… but I don’t have a lot of active will to go die. That’s impetus I lack. I am glad that I can be someone to listen to her when other people can’t handle it. I am glad that she can hear my stories and not flinch. I told her that she and I should make a date with no kids around to really get into details and specifics. I spend a lot of time hushing her at the park because I don’t let kids hear details at all. We go off and sit a ways away from people before we talk about the gory bits.

I’m having huge feelings. I don’t think they are anyone’s fault. Even though there were a bunch of people I wanted to rage at today… I don’t feel like I am actually mad at them.

I genuinely don’t feel like I am mad AT someone. I just have a lot of anger in my body.

It really sucks feeling this angry. I don’t think it is anyones fault. I am genuinely convinced that no one today did anything genuinely “bad” or even “jerk-like”. I’m just…

Oh, I started bleeding today. That was early. But a friend pointed me at a new period tracker app that tracks mood. I’m going to start tracking things like rage, feeling suicidal, etc. I am not tracking food anymore (even though I probably should) and I’m a tracker.

I need to get a handle on my mood swings. If I can better predict them maybe I can figure out a better way of managing them. I hope. Whether anyone else has hope that I can change… I see nothing but a whole lot of changing behind me. I don’t see that trend stopping.

Scripts are ready.

I have a pretty good idea of what I want to say for two conversations today. I have my goals in mind. I’ve worked on tone of voice. I know some directions I would like the talks to go, but not being able to predict the other side, I’ve prepared a number of different possible responses. There are many ways to win here and only a few ways to lose.

I want to a) talk about my feelings b)talk about my actions c) talk about actions I am worried I will take in the future and figure out how to avoid the impending explosion.

For me to explode at someone is never THEIR fault (even if they said or did a dick-thing, it’s still my choice how I react) but there are situations in which I am more likely to fail and I will fail in that direction. I am predictable, sadly. If I see all the signs coming it is my duty and my duty alone to try to head it off at the pass.

I am hopeful that this will resolve in a way that relieves the stress and pressure I’ve been feeling for months. I don’t do well with limbo and unspoken “communications”.

One way or another I will be out of my misery in 5.5 more hours. Maybe my stomach will stop hurting. At least for a day. Then I can start cycling on the fact that I need to go meet a new doctor. The fun never ends.

 

Thought I would be productive today.

I haven’t medicated. Maybe that should be the first thing I change. Instead I am rocking myself and chewing holes in my cheeks.

I keep telling myself that it won’t be so bad. These conversations won’t be that bad. I’m not going to incur huge punishment. Ok, so I won’t get everything I want in life WHAT ELSE IS NEW?!

I’ve been rocking a lot today. And bouncing. It is “self-soothing”. I am vibrating. Oh festive and fun.

Do stuff

I’m trying not to cry so I’m keeping busy. The camping trailer is entirely together except for the board that will be cut to fit on Friday. Yay! I put the tent up. It is spacious and wonderful. My bossy neighbor (I appreciate the advice so much) came by and said “Scotchguard. Get you some.” So I will do that soon.

Today during babysitting time I will finish backing the pallets in the yard. Then I will get dirt from the nursery. Then I can fill in my new planter boxes that have been sitting there just kinda hanging out for months. They were finished before the elimination diet. I have not felt physically well enough to do anything about them since. Now that I’m eating pretty much anything and I’m exercising again (my ankle finally feels better after falling in October) I feel physically up for doing things again. It is like magic.

(On the poop front. A few days ago I felt like I had to go really a lot so I went into the bathroom. I tried to relax and not “force” things out but not much was moving. I encouraged a bit and was rewarded with bile and a touch of slippery, mucosy blood. Haven’t seen any blood since. I stopped trying to go that day. Since I stopped tracking I’ve seen a variety of consistencies. I am (at this point) mostly respecting FODMAPS only I’m back on wheat and dairy… mostly. Sorta. If I *really* want something with wheat I have it. FODMAPS technically isn’t a gluten free diet (depending on which source you read) it is a wheat-free diet. So I’ve been skipping wheat stuff as much as possible and having some wheat now and then without getting upset. My poop isn’t as awesomely solid as it was, but I’m also having lots of Big Feelings and that upsets my digestion.)

I have to get the planter boxes finished because I have to start planting the mushroom kit we got from Ms. Bladerunner (technically I only have 35ish days left!) and I need to move some plants from the front yard to make room for the incoming bathroom expansion. We have an appointment with them tomorrow night to talk about the next stage. Blueprints are done. We are going to go over them, ask for modifications, and hopefully get a start date for work. I’m crossing my fingers. I’m feeling really yicky about breathing black mold.

I have started preparing for the trip in terms of medication. I talked to my nice delivery driver. “I swear on a stack of bibles I’m not reselling, but you are going to see some very large purchases from me early this year and then I’ll disappear for a few months. I’m not stocking up before losing my card. I just won’t be able to buy on the road.” He was very nice about it. We spent a while talking about his impending fatherhood and how it changes life. He advised me to pack the medication separate from everything else and put a copy of my medical recommendation on top of the container so if anyone opens it, that’s the first thing they see. He’s a smart guy. I’ll use that tip.

Do you know what just fucking occurred to me. I really shouldn’t go through Canada. The international border is probably the most dangerous spot for me with two children and a lot of quasi-legal medication. (It’s legal in some states sorta but illegal for the federal government.)

Well… I’m sure glad I thought of that now.

Damnit. I really wanted to go through BC.

Good thing I stop and consider my actions in advance. Ha. (sometimes)

Want to know what’s awesome? Once I catch up on the planter boxes and finish the trailer on Friday… I don’t have any big projects hanging over me. I have just the ongoing daily life stuff. The remodel will impact my life but I’m not doing the work. I don’t think I should start another big project until next year. Wait! I know what I’m going to do. Once I have the yard a bit more settled after the remodel, my nice yard guy and I will be putting in a drip watering system on a timer so my plants don’t die in the six months I’m gone. I have limited trust in my husband’s ability to keep my garden alive. Not because he’s a bad person or anything. He’s just…. not so much an “out door guy”. He has many wonderful talents. Including being able to pay the nice yard guy to put in a drip system. Everyone wins! Yay!

Talk and not talk. What makes someone safe for me to be around? I don’t know. I know that I have big triggers of things that will cause me to blow up. If someone knows that I have these triggers and doesn’t care to modify their speech then I need to take steps to insure that I don’t blow up. That’s the grown up response.

I’ve been reading a lot about existential loneliness. I think in my youth, ignorance, and self absorption I had no idea how much of a truly universal phenomena this is. I hit some point in my early 20’s where I told a friend, “I’ve figured out that “being grown up” has to be the same thing as being ok being alone.” I was never ok being alone as a child. I was alone… but it wasn’t ok. I wasn’t ok. Now I have found my way to alone being ok.

The older I get the more I appreciate my own company. No one yells at me for crying when I’m alone. No one tells me that I’m letting people down by not projecting the kind of joy they want to see. I’m not being held to an impossible metric I can’t meet. No one insults me and calls it a “joke” when I’m alone. I’m really easy to insult. Yes, I’m “over-sensitive”. Being alone is awesome. No one will tell me that the way I exist is wrong.

I spotted another PTSD support group. Since people keep telling me I should find a support group. No aspect of trauma can be discussed at all to prevent retraumatizing people–all discussion will be in the moment positive steps you are taking.

Snicker. Not a group for me.

I would rather be alone than be in a “support group” where I have to carefully sterilize everything I say in order to only be a positive influence on people around me. That’s too much pressure. I can’t do that. I sure as fuck don’t expect anyone to provide that for me. I think that providing support is sticky and messy.

For one thing, in the kind of group where we are only allowed to talk about current things… I’m a rich bitch. I should have no problems and let me tell you in a support group I would be god damn reminded that I have it easier than everyone else so shut the fuck up about your problems. I’ve seen it happen to whoever is sitting highest on the hog in most support groups I’ve ever been in. Someone has to be told they have it better so that other people can say they aren’t doing as well because of x, y, and z privileges. That’s been my experience through I have no idea how many support groups.

I’ve been in support groups for families of brain injuries, incest, PTSD, sexual assault recovery, and for post-mental-hospital-commitment-support. Many of those topics I’ve been in several different support groups over time. The patterns are really consistent.

I am predictable. If I’m told I am not allowed to discuss my trauma at some point I will compulsively blurt something and get in trouble. I’m really bad with being told I’m not allowed to talk about what is hurting me. I don’t follow those rules. It feels like those rules exist to punish me for not being comfortable for other people. So I get asked to leave the group.

I’m kinda done with that at this stage. I’ve had enough therapists tell me to my face that I’m never going to be a good fit for group therapy combined with failing at it a bunch of times that I’m done.

And 12-step groups have their own issues. Combined with me not being an abstinence only believer.

What would “better” look like for me? What am I working towards?

It is hard to create a metric mid-stream. I have periods where I cry a lot and periods where I don’t cry for weeks. I have periods when I have specific interpersonal stress and I’m angry a lot for a while but mostly I’m not angry.

I’ve been upset since October because of a specific incident and then I had other things snowball on top of that to max out my stress response and that’s been festive. To prevent screaming periods I have flatlined what I expect of myself in terms of projects and I reduced social contact and mostly I’ve gotten through this period.

I’m afraid that 10 days before my period I may always want to die. This is a known, common chemical problem. That isn’t about me “doing something wrong”. The only thing they can tell me to do is go on an SSRI and I’ve tried them and they don’t work well with my body. That is a medically proven phenomena–the drugs react very badly for some people. I feel like writing about it and crying on the day I feel like that are reasonable responses. I haven’t cut. I’m not drinking alcohol on those days to “block the pain” or anything stupid. On the days when I feel really bad I don’t ask too much of myself beyond survival and I sit and cry. Then the day ends and I go back to my life.

It is inconvenient. It isn’t my favorite thing about myself, but it is fairly predictable and I can schedule around it to a large degree given the constraints of my life.  Mental illness isn’t ever convenient, near as I can see.

What is “better”? I don’t know. I really don’t know. But my kids are awake. My navel gazing time has ended.

My kids continue to inspire the feeling that I do actually need to be alive. Not just because they “need me” (they are less dependent by the day) but because I can feel how much I need and want and love my mother. If there is the slightest chance they will feel that way about me, I want to be here for it.

I don’t want to be like my mother–three out of her four children have worked very hard to get her out of our lives. One killed himself. Two divorced her. I’m sure it hurts very much. If my children rejected me the way my mother has been rejected… I would not sit through decades of that. I’m sure that is why my mom can’t repudiate my sister even though my sister is a child-rapist.

If it is take a bad person or have no one… I don’t know.

Life is complicated. I have no answers. What is “better”? I really don’t know.

I know that I have worked really hard on my hypervigilance this year. I no longer count exits in public places. I consciously chose to alter that behavior. I think that is a big deal. I consciously chose to feel safe enough to believe that in an emergency I will be able to follow a crowd and get out. I don’t always need to be prepared for a bolt-hole. That is a huge adjustment in how I spent my attention when I’m out in public.

Doesn’t that count as “getting better”?

I’m feeling very flattened by my shrink. I’m not looking forward to talking to her tomorrow. I feel so sad. It isn’t just that she is fallible–that happens. (She gave bad advice for court, in my opinion and in the opinion of my lawyer–but she isn’t a lawyer.) I don’t even know. I’m just… blurgh. Yuck. My stomach hurts.

We have started training for the 5k at the end of January. Really we could do it cold, but it will be easier and more fun if we are in the kind of shape where we could run a 5k instead of slowly trudging it. We probably won’t be running, we plan to do it with friends, but it is nice to have options instead of hoping you can make it through the distance. It’s one of the color runs. The kids run for free and friends asked us to do it with them. We’ll see how that goes. If it doesn’t work out I think I’m not going to sign up for a race with friends again. That isn’t going very well for me. Apparently running is going to be a solitary hobby for me and I just need to accept that. Not the end of the world. Scheduling is just too hard.

I am learning about myself that I only have so much oomph for chasing a given person in my life. I can pour energy into a relationship and at some point I have to get a bunch of energy back or I run out. Once I run out I have nothing left to give. I will have to go off somewhere by myself and slowly build up my reserves and eventually I’ll meet someone else I hope will give some energy back and I’ll try again and I’ll give until I run out and then… the cycle continues.

This is why people on a long rotation last a lot longer. I don’t empty the bucket I have for them very quickly–it takes years and years. When I pour a lot of energy into someone in a relatively brief period of time and they take the energy and they don’t give me any back…. I hit a wall. I hit empty. I hit done. I don’t have enough people in my life pouring energy into me. I don’t have enough to just give it away.

need to feel like people pay attention to me. I’ve noticed that I’ve just about entirely lost the feeling of being the main character of my life. This isn’t working for me. I don’t need to be the main character around which everyone’s life revolves (ha-fucking-ha) but I need *my* life to revolve around me. Lately I’ve been feeling like I only exist to be a supporting character.

I mean, I stayed home and did the elimination diet and that involved not really talking to people much. It wasn’t really a time period that invited people to focus on me. Heh. I don’t need people to care that much about my bowels. (Though it would be nice if I could get a doctor to care a little.) I’m treating my body like it is important. That should solve a lot of the main character issues. Hell, friends even tried hard to accommodate my food ups and downs. Why isn’t that the same thing?

I don’t know. I’m trying to figure it out.

Noah just scared the shit out of me. I still startle easily. The day should begin.

Can’t sleep.

I have a conversation looming and I’m not looking forward to it. I’m not good at setting boundaries. I keep my mouth shut till I explode and there goes the relationship.

I’m not sure if I will get to keep this relationship. I’ll try. But I’m going to have to set some boundaries. I have been very not ok about things here for a long time. Talking about how is very hard. I’m not sure that talking about it will result in improved circumstances.

Right this second I’m just hoping that I don’t end up a screaming banshee. I’m trying to head that off at the pass. Talk WAY before that point and maybe it doesn’t need to happen. Ha. Ha. Ha.

I’m scared that there isn’t a way for me to do the right thing here.

Think about something else.

I don’t really want to think about whether or not I will ever believe I deserve to be alive.

So I’m transferring the planning stuff I’ve done online to a paper notebook that will be my bible for the road trip. Plan A on the assigned route is mapped out. There are places for plans to change and places where the plans really can’t change. I used the US map that AAA sent me to map out the route in blue.

I’ve already started making reservations. Aug 4-9 is for sure nailed down (Michigan). August 29-September 2 (New York) nailed down. November 16-20 (Disneyland) nailed down. That means a lot of the frame of the trip is now non-negotiable. I’ve paid money. I’m doing this. Even if I have diarrhea the whole way. Whatever.

I’m moving packing lists into the journal. I’m writing down the GPS coordinates of all the places we hope to camp so I don’t have to depend on my computer and being able to log into a website to look it up. My phone GPS (or really I have a non-phone GPS in the van too) will be able to handle things if I have the number even though I can’t get to websites.

It is going to be hard to wait till June. I want to run away. I can tell that part of it is wanting to run away from my problems. I know that doesn’t “work”. But space can give you perspective.

By the time we leave for this trip I will have lived in this house for three times as long as I’ve ever lived anywhere. I am so antsy to go.

I’m partially doing this stuff on paper so I can color coordinate. Blue pen is Plan A. That’s the pre-planning before the trip. Who the hell knows how much of it will be accurate later. Other colors for other stages.

I’m making a list of what books I want to bring with me. I’m not the biggest fan of ereaders (they make my thumbs hurt) so this is a weight/size consideration. I may have to do a bunch of ereading stuff for the kids anyway because I just can’t bring a bunch of kids books. I am trying to figure out books on audio and I’m not there yet. Yes, I’m slow for the modern era. I did download the BBC reading of The Chronicles of Narnia. The whole damn thing. That will take us a few weeks to listen to in the car.

I suspect that part of what I will do about books is prepare bags in advance and Noah can exchange some when he comes out for weekends. That will allow us some variety without having to carry it the whole way. And let’s be honest that we will buy new books. It’ll just happen.

I’m already feeling panic about how much money we will spend on hotels/camping through the trip. I’m arranging as many free nights as I can, but we will have to pay several thousand dollars in camping/hotels. Given that we will be gone for five months that won’t be the end of the world.

I need to get a AAA membership, both for the obvious reason and so I can get the discount camping. I’ll probably also want to join KOA and just stay loyal to their campsites as much as possible so I’ll get the discount.

Chicago, Washington DC, and Boston are my currently unpredictable hotel expenses. Noah will be with us in Chicago and Boston. None of those cities have convenient free camping and if we want to be in the city doing stuff we will need a place to drop the trailer and that means a hotel. Or I suppose I could look harder for KOAs near there. Hm. Haven’t decided yet. Depends on the difference in price, probably. If a KOA is $35/night and I can get a hotel for $50… the hotel might be easier. Either way eating is still kind of a pain. Although camping eating will be cheaper than hotel eating. Dinno. I’ll probably wuss out and do hotels with Noah.

Mostly I should consider what set-up is most likely to result in us being able to have sex. Hotel rooms have the benefit of bathroom doors with locks. I promise you that Noah would be happy to pay a little more for a space that facilitates sex.

It is feeling crazy to me that I have this year planned all the way through Thanksgiving. 

At least I know I won’t get bored.

Today has been an emotional journey.

I’ve been crying on and off for 13 hours now. It’s a day. I went to a tea party. I cried at the tea party. Even though strangers could see me. (Usually I have better control than that; mostly I get to a bathroom in time to hide my crying.)

One of my former flings was at the tea party. He spent a lot of the party hitting on me really hard. He remembers me very fondly. I feel like I should take a shower. (Although to be fair–the pride weekend we hooked up was wicked hot. He’s a switch and just as good at taking pain as he is at giving pain. We had a really ridiculously hot weekend of beating the shit out of each other in between rabid fucking. Ok, I remember him fondly too.)

But I still feel like I should take a shower. Which is becoming a thing for me. I was talking to Noah about this yesterday. I’m in a weird spot with sex. Sex is feeling weird and dirty and gross and like I am disgusting for having it and I don’t understand why anyone would want to do that. Which… isn’t really like me.

I have been having sex of some kind for over 30 years. I’ve been having vaginal sex of my own volition for 21 years. I feel very weird about having sex be this weird for me. I was never put off by sex and now I am. I feel like I’m in a really terrible rut for this. It hasn’t been going on for a super long time, maybe a few weeks?

It is very weird for me to feel repulsed by the idea of sex. And I’m feeling that way really intensely. It is making my relationship with Noah rocky. And then having an old flame hit on me magnifies it in intense and awkward and uncomfortable ways.

I’ve had some weirdness ever since getting pregnant the first time. Decreased libido, I don’t feel sexy when my kids are around, I don’t “turn on” very easily any more… there has been a lot of weirdness to adjust to, but the repulsion feels new. (I don’t think I have suddenly developed an aversion to Noah. I am much more repulsed by the idea of sex with anyone else right now.)

I feel dirty, bad, and like if I have boundaries I am a terrible person who deserves to be punished. Sex feels almost like a punishment.

Today has been such an explosion of self-loathing. In every way possible. I should die. I should die. I should die. I should stop being such a scary terrible person. I don’t know a way to stop being so fucking scary without dying.

This morning Noah made us a really elaborate breakfast. In the process he shouted at the kids a few times. From the other side of the house I felt shocked and afraid. When I came into the kitchen the kids were totally cool with it. I asked Noah if he needed time to go calm down and both him and the kids defended that he was fine.

If I say “empty the dishwasher” sometimes the kids will all but cower under the table. I don’t even have to raise my voice. (Actual screaming provokes less of a reaction.) Noah says it is because I am so intimidating. You know–like a large black man.

Are you fucking kidding me?

So I spent the day crying because I’m a piece of shit who should die because I can’t seem to do anything to stop scaring people. No matter how hard I try, I’m still that fucking scary bitch who should be punished for having emotions that are too big.

Sometimes I can whisper a request and the kids will react as if I have done something terrible. I feel manipulated.

I feel like I should die because it isn’t possible for me to attain behavior that would be considered “acceptable”.

I spent a bunch of time at the tea party talking to a woman I used to go dancing with. Both of us have been on mental health roller coasters over the last few years. When she has problems, her friends take her in. She has spent a lot of the last few years basically couch surfing with friends who cook for her and clean up after her and she has a great team of doctors she works with who are really nice to her. In the conversation I asked a little bit about what kind of traumas trigger what kind of things for her and she said, “I’ve never had a traumatic experience in my life.”

When she said how grateful she is that her friends have taken her in and supported her this way because it is really hard for her to take care of herself when she is depressed I said, “No one has ever loved me that much. Not my friends, not my parents. It doesn’t matter how I feel. I have to take care of myself.” Then I cried.

Noah takes some care of me, but he doesn’t do that much. People have done some things to care for me. One friend cooked me breakfast lunch and dinner for three weeks after my second child was born. When my uncle died and I dropped my basket I had friends show up for a week to baby-sit my kids.

But in between some pieces of help I have to get off my fucking ass and do everything else for myself. I don’t get months of support. I get a few minutes then a kick in the ass to get the fuck back up and take care of myself.

When my wisdom teeth were removed, I was 21 and living with my Owner. My mom came to stay with us to “take care of me” afterwards. I had four dry sockets. I was in horrible pain. My mom sat on the couch reading and I cooked and served her food.

I’m a self-pitying son of a bitch.

When I get really sick 9/10 times I drive myself to the hospital. I don’t really know who to ask for help. Even though doctors have told me flat out I can’t drive those days… I do it anyway because that is the only transportation I have.

I’m having a really hard time this week with the whole “scary” thing. I won the court case, but I don’t feel “cleared” at all. This is a consistent problem for me. Near as I can tell the only thing I can do to avoid scaring people is stay in my room without talking to people.

I want to die so much.

I’m having a really hard time with knowing that my therapist doesn’t have a lot of hope for me changing. That is really hurting.

If you ask my kids at any other time if they think I am scary they say no. They tell me they know I wouldn’t hurt them even though I get very angry sometimes. But man they cower. They cower like I chase them with a belt. Hell, they fucking cower more than someone who has been chased with a belt. If you get hit enough times you learn that cowering just pisses people off and they hit you more times.

Noah and I talked today about putting the kids in school. He asked what I would do during the day. I said cut. It would be totally easy to hide if I had that much alone time. We don’t want to put the kids in school. But if I think the kids are being damaged by being around me (uhm, cowering) then maybe school is more appropriate.

You never know what the “right” decision is until it is too late to do anything about all the wrong decisions.

Despite hearing today from a teacher who likes Common Core I remain unconvinced that school is currently the right choice for my kids. This teacher asked how my kids have learned to talk about math problems if they have never had a math class. If I’ve never sat them down with a textbook and worksheets, how can they learn?! It’s a miracle. But without curriculum assistance of any kind my kids can do addition, some subtraction, and the occasional multiplication problem. (The 4 year old isn’t doing multiplication yet, but she has demonstrated that she understands the principle.) We do them verbally.

I feel like I’m being mean and ungrateful towards Noah for having this many big, unpleasant feelings. I feel like I am doing something specifically objectionable because of disloyalty. I feel like when I talk about my lack of support I am implying that he isn’t doing enough and that isn’t true. I’m pretty sure there isn’t time in the day for Noah to do more.

But I still have so many needs and there isn’t anyone I can ask. I try really hard to build some of the consistency I need and it falls through over and over.

It isn’t that no one ever does anything for me. I know that I *do* get help. But I get one off help.

I want a god damn mother.

Right now I am feeling very self-pitying and sad. I wish I had the flavor of mental illness where people love me and take care of me and feel sad that I am hurting instead of the flavor where people think I am scary and intimidating.

I want to die.

My friend said she feels confident that with the help of wonderful doctors she will improve a lot and her life will get better and she won’t have so many symptoms.

If you read books about suicidality, there are specific “things” that are the reasons people kill themselves. There are only a few categories of spurs, really. I have most of them really active in my life. I don’t think I will ever stop feeling suicidal until I can find a way to meet the needs that are driving the impulse to die. My problems are relational and I can’t fix them by myself. And I can’t make anyone care about me that much.

I don’t know that I will ever get much better. I will never believe I am worthy of enough love to justify staying alive. “Never is a long time.” I don’t feel very hopeful today.

I hope that some day this will feel less intense. I hope that some day I will believe I am worthy of someone taking care of me and I will find a way to make that happen in a way that will benefit my mental health long term.

Right now I feel like no one loves me enough.

Which is of course all my fault and all my problem.

So much to do

I woke up this morning mentally composing a letter to a publishing company (I’ve spent weeks reading books from their catalogue–I think I would fit in very well with what they sell) and mentally composing how I will talk to the next doctor I try to see and thinking about a conversation I need to have with a friend. All of that full speed ahead at 5am.

I am most of the way through travel planning for the trip this year. I have driving distances and camp sites found for the entire journey. I have back up plans for every plan. I have several spots in the trip where I have extra days that can be absorbed forward or back if they have to. I’m leaving lots of places where I can change my mind and just come home. I’m even giving Noah’s family the option of possibly having more time if they want it because I have other time kind of spent on camping that doesn’t have to be spent that way.

I’m getting close to having as full of a social calendar as I’m going to have for this year. That’s kind of… whoa. On January 1st that feels intimidating. But it will be good if I can learn to say “no” to all the last minute stuff that will come up. Lots of other stuff will be offered. I am very close to what I can sustain. I can’t add much more and keep up the pace I have set. I need to save spoons. I need to not extend myself. I need to not do much for other people outside my house. If that means I’m selfish… well that happens. I’m selfish. I have stuff I want to do and I can’t do it if I am constantly distracted by what other people want to do.

Looking at the calendar, I will probably make 15-20 dinner dates over the next six months that aren’t currently scheduled and 3-6 play dates that aren’t on the calendar right now. Otherwise… I’m not sure I’m adding anything.

That feels pretty good. I can stop looking frantically around me for people to meet my needs. I’m doing pretty freakin’ well.

I may schedule a “going away” party for two or three weeks before we leave. That will be a last-ditch way to see people before running away for half a year. We’ll see. I won’t decide that till April or May.

April is the only month of this year that doesn’t look mostly fully booked.

If I can keep all the balls in the air everything will go fine. Ha. Ha. Ha.