Tag Archives: frustrated

I’m about to fucking explode, y’all.

I am not ok and it is perseverating in my head and if I don’t set it down somewhere I am going to continue to freak out in my house with my kids and that’s not cool. So let’s start there, shall we?

My kids are acting appropriate for their varying ages. All of these stages are hard at this moment in that awesome way that sometimes cycles pop up. My oldest is a fucking teenager with a fucking rude teenager mouth. I feel like he just has to tell me I’m wrong or express exasperation at my stupidity over and over all day long. Often at times when I am not actually wrong or being stupid. I mean… when I am wrong I tolerate a fair bit of sass but it drives me insane when I’m not wrong. Middle child is not wanting to accept responsibility for some areas of forward progress and I’m struggling with that. Youngest is pushing every button and boundary like it is her job… because it is.

So that’s all fun and the background noise of every single day.

I went back and checked my logs (hi, yes I am incredibly obsessive about tracking all kinds of stupid details) and starting in June I went from sleeping 8 hours a night on average over the course of the month to sleeping 6 hours a night on average. The months since then have hovered around 7 hours a night on average. That’s pretty certainly part of why I have been doing much worse. Why did I start sleeping so much less?

Ah, fucking lockdowns are over and I feel incredibly pressured (mostly internally) to get out and Meet People and Volunteer and Be Part of the Community. Also this summer has been quite energetic with gardening tasks as I’m moving towards the permaculture/low key food forest direction. I’m super tired. Also eldest said, “Let’s go ahead and finish the lounge” and I said, “Oh uhhh ok.” I was kinda hoping to procrastinate the work long enough for the paint to go bad. Then I found out my old buddy was coming and I have some projects I said he could help me with. So I started sprinting to get stuff done before he arrived.

Reader, I fucking failed.

I’ve been very much working beyond what I should be. Oh, and late May was my first trip down to England to see A & P then in June I went back down to England to bring Noah and the kids to see A & P. That is seeming like the best decision I made all year.

Oh, and I averaged 6 hours a sleep a night the month I had fucking covid and I slept through 4 days entirely. THAT’S REALLY FUCKING BAD.

I’m not ok, y’all.

July was a sprint of work I was not physically prepared for. I have never taken time to really fully recover from covid, not really. I certainly haven’t carefully increased exercise over time to get back to the fitness I had.

August was a super sprint of work and it was exhausting. September was a lot of work sprinting plus my birthday which was absolutely fucking exhausting to the extreme and I probably made some foolish choices. I was not physically fit enough to do what I did comfortably and I have paid for it. October has been more and more work and then Noah and EC went off to Helsinki then the morning after they got home I ran off to San Francisco in a last ditch effort to say goodbye to A.

In a way there are shadows of my uncle passing. I was too late. I feel like I failed and I am upset with myself. I did get to help P with one of the thornier parts of handling A’s belongings and I am deeply grateful I could perform this service.

Being in San Francisco involved a ton of driving (ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow) and many hours of work and many different social interactions one right after another and very little sleep. I just couldn’t except for a few times when I passed out in awkward scenarios. Three people said they wanted to make plans then cancelled at the very last minute. Woo. That’s always fantastic.

My buddy is a challenge in many ways. I don’t want to say too much about that but I will say that he is very emotionally needy and he wants me to help him process and understand his entire life and that’s a fucking tall order. I am not a therapist. I feel like I am drowning in his feelings. He also can’t remember a lot of our conversations because of how much he drinks so each conversation has to be repeated a few times and that is really frustrating. I don’t begrudge him the needs but my bucket is so fucking empty.

I feel empty. I feel like I can’t take more shit being dumped on me. I feel like I want to scream and scream and scream until I have destroyed my voice from screaming. I want to sleep for several weeks in a row. I want to stop speaking to people at all and I want to go back to lockdown. I am so far into burn out I feel like a pile of ash.

I know that I am a good person to help people process grief but right now I can’t handle the flood of it. It’s not just the one buddy. I feel absolutely surrounded by loss this year. Grandmother in law, A, my buddy’s parents, other friends have lost family members, a different buddy is dealing with her kid self-harming, a somewhat surprising number of pets have passed recently and folks want to talk to me because I give them comfort. Right now it feels so hard.

Oh, yeah, and it’s been an incredibly stressful year on the money front. I think things have settled down now and while we are not fully “on track” we are in a very reasonable place and I’m no longer worried about bouncing payments. But it’s been a fucking lot.

Err, also my roof just got replaced and the scaffolding and construction fuss have been irritating and challenging because to a large degree it has meant that YC has not been able to play outside unsupervised for over a month. That’s not a great situation.

I’m not exercising enough. I stopped my yoga classes because we need to be contributing more to savings. I’m not eating well enough–I am actually not enjoying the kids cooking 4 nights a week because rarely do they put more than 1 vegetable serving in a meal and it’s not doing great things to my body. I’m sleeping for shit.

It goes on and on and on. I’m sure I’m not remembering all the fuss. My head hurts. I am tired of being tired.

Put Yourself In The Story

It’s hard to explain what I mean when I say that I can tell I am not doing very well. Yet I need to explain it to me so that I can change it. I feel out of control. I feel like I lack focus and power to decide who and what I want to be. When I feel like this I tend to fall hard into the helper mode, by golly I will offer to help fucking everyone then I feel like I have nothing left for myself. I will pour out all of my lifeblood into something I don’t care about and at the end of the day I feel exhausted and empty and like I did nothing that makes my life feel like it is worth living. I am not acting like I am the main fucking character. 

I’m not trying to be all narcissistic about this and act like I need to be the main character of everyone else’s story, just my own. It is actually healthy to be the main character of your own story—that’s not maladjusted thinking. Subsuming yourself into everyone around you is a problem. That’s not healthy; it’s a lack of boundaries. Boundaries aren’t rules you enforce on other people boundaries are knowing where you end and where other people begin. Boundaries are knowing what is for yourself and knowing what is for other people and making sure you put enough gas in your own gas tank so that you can keep the damn car on the road.

For example: I am genuinely fulfilled by gardening work. When I keep myself so busy I don’t have time or physical energy to do it I feel shitty. I can feel this shift as spring comes on in Inverness that was a lot more muddy in California. The kinds of work I can do outside are different over the seasons in a way I still haven’t adjusted to yet. Combining this with the fact that bike events are going to increase in frequency and time length means I need to be putting gardening on the calendar in concrete and demanding ways. It’s also competing with kid school/social stuff and that’s a whole long blog post of its own.

But that’s not the only thing. And Jesus this next bit is going to sound cunty and this is the kind of thing that makes it feel scary to write anymore. There are pieces of being married that chafe sometimes and I need to find a greater degree of peace with them. We went to a rope workshop (we meaning Noah and I… not the kids… obviously) and I want that to continue and I want us to figure out how to deal with some of our challenges in that department. It’s kind of funny that most of the time I feel like I am the complainer in my marriage and then there are times when I feel pretty fucking rude in my judgment of Noah’s complaints. It’s not an attractive trait on my part. There are times and ways that Noah really struggles with being able to explain or understand things and he launches into these long winded rants about why it’s impossible or unfair or almost malicious on other people’s faults that he can’t learn from an explanation someone else is giving. God damn in those moments I notice that he and MC have that in common so maybe MC’s complaining style isn’t entirely inherited from me. It’s dramatic to me because I really struggle with being patient with him in those moments; I feel a lot more comfortable telling MC to just knock it off. I cannot listen to the rant right now. Rope, dancing, some of the challenges around travel are all pinch points where I think God damn you are autistic. There are ways that Noah really struggles to understand why he needs to explain something in a certain way in order to solve a problem. To be fair I know that I have places where I am absolutely shit at solving problems because I get stressed out and I just can’t do a thing and sometimes those are situations that Noah is preternaturally gifted at getting into the zone and he can just solve the thing. 

It is really hard when I feel like I am in a moment where I have to solve all of the things and the thing I could do to be the best wife and mother in that moment is to stop looking for help or support. I fucked up some steps in figuring out the trip we are on right this minute. (Side note: going to Texas. On a plane right this minute but we will be on the ground when I post this. Noah’s grandmother is in her last days on earth. More about this in a bit.) I did a crappy job of task sharing for the planning and as a result we had a few problems that could have been ameliorated. I absolutely should not have expected that he understand all of the levels of preparation needed but I did. I fucked up several layers of planning because all of the covid shit is a god damn nightmare and I did not understand how hard that was going to be. I landed us in a very stressful position through ineffective planning then I turned and wanted him to fix some pieces while knowing that he is not that effective at remembering/understanding all of the pieces he has to communicate in those situations. 

I need to go back to the beginning on this. It’s rather a complicated story with layers of stupid that are absolutely completely my fault. Booking was really shitty and I couldn’t understand why to begin with. I think American Airlines was just doing a website upgrade and I happened to be trying to book last minute at the absolute worst time. It took a series of phone calls over a couple of hours to research flights and book with points. Going back and forth between different credit cards because some chunks were in one currency and other chunks were in a different currency. I did this booking on Tuesday expecting to fly on Thursday. Wednesday I took off to take YC to her class for the day and track down our car seat. That took hours because we had to ride all over town tracking down the car seat cause the dude who is borrowing it was out of town and his ex, my friend, and I had to ride up a big hill to get the key to his van then ride across town to get to where the van is parked and get the actual seat. It was a very demanding ride and she was a great sport about it but we probably did 8ish miles at the very last minute. It was tiring and I couldn’t be grumpy with her to go faster when I have a battery and she doesn’t. I did not explain to Noah before I left just how many steps we had to go through when I got home. Instead I got home and said “Ok everybody let’s go” thinking we could just go get the covid test for the flight done.

First stupid: I thought I could get a covid test at a local pharmacy for flying since I see ads for them all the time. Turns out that the pharmacy offers that service in other cities but not in our city since we are so small. I figured this out while everybody was standing in the driveway with their bikes while I frantically searched on my phone. It started fucking hailing. Insult to fucking injury. Ok, put the bikes away because in our city literally the only place that does the covid test is the airport and they don’t start doing that service until the hour after the plane I booked us on for getting to London and they were out of appointments for the day before so we couldn’t grab a taxi and head over to do it that day. In retrospect in the moment I realised what I did wrong I probably should have just called AA and told them about the problem and rebooked the whole damn thing. That’s my fuck up. Instead I figured out how to get us to London Wednesday night on a different airline very late so we could be at the airport for tests at 6am so we had a 4 hour window for the flight to the states. 

Second massive fuck up on my part: now I am questioning myself. I went through about 5 different sites trying to figure out how to get the covid testing done and at least one of them said YC couldn’t be given a test so I thought that meant she didn’t need one. Yeah I was completely and totally fucking wrong. She needed a test. I booked the other 4 of us in. If I had booked all 5 of us in then we would have totally made the original flight and it all would have been fine. The lines in Heathrow were absolutely insane because it turns out that Wednesday at about 2 they had a giant fucking software problem and they had to cancel all British Airways flights. Nightmare! We waited in lines so long that by the time we figured out the fuck up with YC we didn’t have time to get on the original flight. We were in fucking lines for 4 hours and got back up to the front about 5 fucking minutes after the time we needed for security and getting across the terminal. The terminal is huge

Third fuck up: I should not have sent Noah to negotiate fixing this on his own. We had two reservations and he didn’t bang hard enough on that point so the employee he found who fixed the reservation for the other four of us didn’t fix his part. Then we waited in endless lines again and didn’t figure out the fuck up until we were minutes away from missing the rebooked flight. Holy.Fucking.Shit. AA booked the original tickets (on a BA flight) so BA said they couldn’t fix the reservations or rebook us. We had to go to go over to AA. AA could fix the reservations but they couldn’t print the boarding passes. So we were expected to wait in the multi-hour lines on both sides of the terminal. Fucking awesome. It was a zoo of hysterical people because they were all trying to figure out how to fix up everything that happened the day before. God damn nightmare.

In that last few minutes Noah was actually great and he went right up to the front and insisted the problem be treated like an emergency. That’s not an easy thing for him to do and it’s important to recognise in my head how much he struggles with exactly that type of problem and he came through. The kids and I caught up just in time for me to tell them about the two reservations so they could finally get it right because his explanation wasn’t helping them understand why it wasn’t working. A fucking awesome AA employee grabbed a BA person and said “You are printing this pass. Right now.” Then she walked us through security to get there faster. Thank you Jenny! We got to the gate in time to grab a few drinks because we were all super dehydrated and get on the plane. We didn’t have time to sit down in the terminal. We were at the airport from 6am and we got on a flight at 2:40. We were in lines just about that whole time. The poor kids were really amazing. Noah was patient. I tried hard to be patient and only think my impatience. 

Out of battery.

Alright, finishing this in the hotel room while Noah and EC are sleeping and MC and YC are loudly playing with dolls.

Right around the point we got on the plane from London my watch started beeping at me that it was almost out of battery and I realised I forgot the charging cable. Damnit.

We barely made it through customs and lines in Phoenix to jump on the plane to Houston. Our bags did not follow us to Phoenix. We all sat separately on all of the flights. YC was my buddy, Noah sat alone, and MC and EC said they got through the flights without fighting at all. That’s great. YC did super well; she has no memory of previous travel and her behaviour on this trip shows me really dramatically how different her life has been. She has no habits around keeping her voice down or staying near me in crowds. She does not know how to manage her body so she doesn’t kick other people in tight quarters. She is not used to strangers and she’s really shy in a lot of circumstances. It’s fascinating not being able to tell what parts of her behaviour come from her different personality and what parts come from the different nurturance because our life is completely different. 

Got to Houston and put in a baggage claim report. Now on the computer I am not able to look up anything on the computer. This sucks. I need to call the airport and I don’t have an American sim card so I don’t have a phone for calls or data. We couldn’t pick up the rental car last night because it was closed by the time our flight landed so we took a shuttle to the hotel. I think my next step should be leaving Noah and the kids in the hotel and going back to the airport on my own to get the rental car. Noah doesn’t need to be with me because his American license is expired and he doesn’t have a UK one yet. I will be doing all the driving. Then I need to go buy a booster seat because we can’t take YC in a car without one and I don’t think the car seat is going to show up for days. We also don’t have toothbrushes or clean clothes. This is going to be fun.

Another day, another adventure. It’s probably time for me to get moving.

{heavily filtered} Triggers

Can I say that I'm getting fucking sick to death of how the word triggers is used?  Mostly I hear it mean: 'So this person is crazy and reacting to ghosts… it's not my problem that they are over-sensitive but I guess I can give a lame-ass "I'll try to respect your 'triggers'" line.'  Fuck you all.  No really.

I'm kind of tired of having people throw it in my face that they are trying to be "sensitive" to my "triggers".  Bitch you don't even know what the fuck that means.  By the way, I'm kind of angry.  Apparently having a trigger means that someone does the same asshole thing to you that someone else has already done.  Or at least caused you to think hard about the previous time and consider how you want to react this time.  People are so dismissive of "triggers" because it is a good way of saying, "You were already hurt here so it's not my fault you are hurting now."

Actually, an asshole act is an asshole act.  Lying is lying.  When you negotiate extensively for activity A and you instead engage in activity B… that's not a miscommunication and that's not about me being triggered.  

You want to know the "trigger" part?  My gut-level response to this behavior is to go sleep in a different bed and cry and assume there is nothing in the world that will change it.  Because that kind of lying is something that people just do.  I should stop listening to what people tell me.  There isn't a point.

Things that were effective coping mechanisms during your childhood are hard to abandon as an adult.  When someone lies to me, I have to withdraw trust.  Fast.  I have to shut down affection towards that person.  I have to stop being vulnerable because if they smell blood… I'm dead.

I suppose that triggering me means acting like my family.  So that I have to act like I do with my family.  It's not about a set word or phrase or experience.  If you act like my family… I have nothing for you.  

My family would set terms on who you can know.  If you had the audacity to want to be friends with someone they didn't like… well… that's going to result in nastiness, name calling, threats of abandonment (that aren't followed up on because the piece of shit bully is dependent on having you around to kick), and of course threats of suicide.  

Wow.  That all sounds like what I say and do when I tell Noah that I don't like him dating.  Ironic.  No wonder I feel like I shouldn't be saying no, no matter what.  Because I have this gut reaction of not wanting to be like them.  It's bad to say, "Actually this behavior is toxic to our marriage for 'x, y, and z reasons.'"  Because then I'm trying to control him inappropriately.  My adult spin on not wanting to be this person is to think that I should start shutting my mouth and putting my head down.

My family would rewrite history.  Oh, it's not that anyone lied.  We just miscommunicated, that's all.  No one ever has to be accountable for their actions.  That's why I have a scorched earth policy.  Someone who is going to lie to my face and then go behind my back and do something else all the while maintaining a dialogue with someone else that perpetuates a lie… wow.  I need to run, not walk away from that.  You want to know what a trigger is?

It's the sure knowledge that a liar is poison.  Someone who will lie to me… I can't know.  I can't be vulnerable with.  I can't pay attention to them.  I can't worry about what they want.  I know it will be a facade and I'll never know them anyway.  As soon as you lie to me, and then tell someone else that we "miscommunicated" well…  Yeah.  Ok.  The solution to this "miscommunication" is for me to assume you are lying going forward.  Sounds great.

I lie too.  I lie compulsively sometimes.  I say things in the heat of an argument that aren't true no matter how you look at them.  And I hate myself for it.  That makes me want to run too.  Because these topics are things that I can't be honest about.  So I'd rather not discuss them.

At any other point in my life this kind of behavior would be cue for an abrupt turn on my heel and exiting the premises permanently.  I would much rather leave than try to fix something like this.  My life is complicated now.

I understand a lot of things differently as life goes by.  I think about why women stay in domestic violence situations.  I think about why my mother and my sister are the way they are.  Why do they lie compulsively all the time?  They were taught to.  That's what hanging out with liars will do.  It teaches you to lie.  

The problem with being married to a sociopath is I am never sure if his vision of enlightened self-interest lines up with mine.  My best-interest is considered to the extent that he wants to manipulate the correct
behavior out of me, preferably while volunteering as little as possible.  Because the less he volunteers, the more control and power he has.  There are cracks in my Stockholm Syndrome.

It's hard having such extreme opinions about Noah.  Mostly I feel better about/toward/with him than anyone else on the planet.  And then sometimes I don't.

(ETA: the formatting is weird and I don't know why.)

I’m going to talk about triggers.

I've spent the past few weeks reminding myself that my early life was a festering shithole of despair the likes of which very few people survive. I'm running low on empathy for other people. So that seems like the perfect time for me to talk about my expectations of how other people will manage their shit. We all have it. That's fine. If you feel upset by things you are reading on the internet, close the window. If you feel upset by things you are hearing said in person you have two choices, you can try to tactfully change the subject; this is done by hearing a conversation segue and going full steam ahead towards that Shiny Change Of Topic!. Heck, you can even announce, "Look! It's A Shiny Change Of Topic!" as you do it. That's ok. That's a way of trying to be comfortable in conversation.

Or you can get off your ass and walk away. At no point it is it ok for you to start ranting about how people have triggered you and they are all bad bad bad bad people for daring to say something that Hurt Your Feelings.

Wow. Do you think you are the only important person in the world? Do you really believe that in order to be in your life people have to spent 100% of their time doing only activities you approve of? You have issues. Big issues. The kind that can be manipulated by fucked up professionals with lots of training on how to manipulate peoples emotions.

I have a lot of triggers. I could not begin to enumerate them all. They change over time. When I am in a period where I am heavily triggered, I stop participating in the world. I go home. I stop reading other peoples blogs. I stop participating in forums. I still post, because I do so compulsively and I could not stop if I wanted to. But I'm not reading. I don't have the emotional energy to risk looking at other peoples lives. I might get upset. If I get upset I will have days of back lash. I will feel this constant internal struggle between rage and despair because dear god why do people always do this to me?  The truth is, they don't always do that to me.  It happens sometimes.  But when your brain is in whatever chemical state it is in right now sometimes… that's the only state you can remember being in.  That's not a rational feeling.  That's not a true statement.  You have other moods and other ways you feel. Maybe not recently.  But life is long.

Deciding that who and what you are right now is so important to preserve that everyone around must change in substantial ways to make you more comfortable uhm, well… that's fucked up.  I'll be flat with you.  That's disordered thinking.  That's having omniscience problem.  Get over yourself.

People need to go live their lives and have the experiences they have, for good and bad.  The more you try to step in between other people having their lives the farther you are away from having an actual relationship.  People are not puppets.  The kind of person who will only do what you say is generally kind of icki and I don't want to be near them.  People who want to "call the shots" on how I talk about my life makes my skin crawl.  That's my fucking trigger.  And guess what, I'm a grown up.  I go back to my fucking sandbox and I deal with my emotions.  In an appropriate way.  In a limited way.  I'm going to rant through this post and then I am going to roll my eyes and go back to my life.  Because I don't need to deal with other people being passive aggressive and control freaks.  I have better things to do with my life.  

I modify my behavior willingly for the people I live with.  They have a right to ask me for concessions.  At the same time, I push for time to write because I need it for my mental health.  I have to push back there.  I have to push back about that universally, across the board.  I need to not only say that was an epic party, but holy shit I got to play with two hot girls.  One I made smile and one I made cry.  I felt honored by both.  They both teach me different things about life.  And I need to honor the lessons I am learned.  That is something that I need for me.  I need to figure out how to navigate my triggers in life.  Because I have a lot of them.  I'm trying to figure out what that means.  What can my life look like.

I'll tell you that declaring subjects or locations off-limits for other people… that's not part of the agenda.  If it is on your agenda then you should stop dicking around and commit yourself for a while because you are obviously in a place where you are not able to have healthy relationships and you need some intensive therapy for you to figure out that you are not God.

This is why I think I need a month of not leaving the house.

How’s that for a subject? Yesterday I went and spent time with my cousin. She is getting ready to move back to Kentucky and I won’t see her for many years. It was nice to see her as at this point in time she is the bio-family member I am the closest to and that I like the most. Which is kind of sad because I have distinctly mixed feelings about her. (She’s nice and she means well, but she is a serious whiner and she’s rather dumb.) We walked around downtown Los Gatos for a few hours because the house just isn’t kid proof. They have a house full of sick old people and they have medication bottles everywhere combined with the fact that they have a bunch of animals and the house is dark and dim and gross because no one cleans very well. Not the best place for a curious toddler in my opinion.

We walked for probably 2.5 hours. Not that long, but we did cover a fair bit of distance. Today I am totally freakin wasted. I have no energy at all. I have this long list of chores I want to be working on but I just can’t bring myself to work. 🙁 I need to pick up a friend at the airport in an hour and a half and I don’t think I’ll get anything done before then other than eating lunch. Ugh.

I want many days of hanging out in my house so I can rest and do some freakin work.

Cranky

I have been in a flamingly bad mood lately and I don’t entirely understand why. I’m normally somewhat caustic but lately I’m being a total bitch and it’s not cool. I’m trying to monitor my tone of voice but I’m not being perfectly successful. I apologize in advance if I snap at you, I probably don’t really mean it. 🙁

Feeling cranky

1) I don’t appreciate the people who are telling Noah to take a huge pay cut or work nights/weekends so that he can change careers. Yes, I do support him in moving in a different direction. I do want him to be happy. Doing so at the complete expense of our family is not an option I’m really thrilled about. (For the record: Noah isn’t agreeing with them. I just want to tell them to take a flying leap.)

2) I don’t appreciate the recruiters who wake Shanna up from a nap at least three days a week. Today she got about 20 minutes of sleep and now won’t go down again despite crying and being very upset about being awake. God fucking damnit.

3) The cat keeps scratching Shanna in the face. I wish they could leave one another alone.

4) I really should get more housework done today but I’m feeling very fussy about doing it with Shanna hanging on me and crying. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

5) I didn’t sleep much last night. I just couldn’t fall asleep. This makes it much harder for me to be patient.

6) I still don’t know if I am in the ASL class. *sigh*

Other than that my life is good. All of this would be less cranky making if I had gotten sleep last night.

Restless

I want to go somewhere. I want to go do something big and exciting and dramatic. But my life doesn’t allow such things anymore. I am consumed by minutiae. I am obsessed with ensuring that I am Safe. But how is that benefiting me really? Why am I doing this to myself? Ugh. It’s making me easily frustrated and so ridiculously bored.

wanting

-I want a day of not being touched. At all. But it ain’t gonna happen.
-I want hot sweaty sex where I get off and we don’t have to rush.
-I want to go to a sex party. God I miss them.
-I want to feel exciting.
-I want to feel like I am doing more than just household stuff.
-I want to have time to do more than just household stuff.
-I want to leave.
-I want to stay.
-I want to feel happy in my skin.
-I want Shanna to stop whining today.
-I want my tongue to stop hurting.
-I want to stop feeling like I am responsible for continuing relationships when the other person doesn’t seem to care.
-I want my yard to be prettier.
-I want to not have to do yard work.
-I want Shanna to stop trying to climb me.

Defensive

I told my sister and my nephew yesterday that I’m feeling upset about them only contacting me when they want money. My sister got huffy and told me that she doesn’t want anything from anyone. Then as we were getting ready to pay for lunch she informed me she was laid off. Ahhh timing. I only paid for my food.

On the vaccine stuff: I find the different points of view interesting. I found ‘s post yesterday nearly funny. If I posted something of that length and validity on the anti-vax side I would have a flood of snotty comments. I would be be told that all of the things I was presenting were “anecdotal” and therefore completely unworthy of mention. *shrug* At this moment in time my feelings are basically that I don’t trust the information I am presented with. Once upon a time there was “evidence” that people should be given mercury when they were sick, or drugs to prevent miscarriage that caused terrible terrible deformities and problems in infants. This was the wisdom of the day. I could list off a dozen different things that have been part of “trends” in the past 150 years around the topic of bearing children that have been dangerous and problematic. They were all pushed heavily by doctors. Yet I am now told, “It doesn’t matter what has happened in the past. This time what we are telling you to do is right. Honest!” Well, I feel rather uncomfortable using my kid as a guinea pig for something with little history. Most vaccines have been around for ~60 years or less. That’s not a lot of time to look at the long-term effects. Especially because the people who were vaccinated 60 years ago were not given the same vaccines or nearly as many as children today are. Shanna will be vaccinated because eventually the risk of the diseases will overcome the risk of the shots because I want to take her to Asia and Africa. If I were a bit less infected with a travel bug I don’t know that I would be willing to.

If my life were different I would probably give her the vaccines on schedule. (Although frankly I like countries like Finland’s vaccination schedule more than the US’s.) Well, maybe not all of them. I’m more than a little worried about what is going to happen to people when we get rid of the more mild diseases that educate the body in fighting off illness. Do I have hard scientific evidence? Sorta. Not really. Why are things like cancer becoming so common? It’s a combination of reasons that no one has figured out yet. It didn’t happen much when people died of other illnesses.

I don’t think it is a good idea to fuck with mother nature. People are supposed to die. That’s kind of the end-goal of every human’s life. I don’t really think that trying to put off death forever is a great thing. I’m sure people will snarkily (and stupidly in my opinion) say, “You would feel differently if it was your kid.” Not really. If my child died I would grieve. I would miss her for the rest of my life. But I would deal with it. I have experience dealing with death and my experience of it colored my feelings enough that I feel pretty comfortable saying, “No really–it’s better to not stave off death as long as possible.” They should have let my brother die the first time instead of resuscitating him.

And I can’t help but think that our culture’s obsession with avoiding feeling bad at all for any length of time is contributing to a lot of our other social problems.

Money and family

Every time I deal with my family they ask me for money. Either to pay for something or just for actual money. In the cases of my cousins/niece/nephew asking for college money I don’t actually mind much because I think that is a worthy cause to donate towards. However I do mind in other cases. I called my sister to ask if we could take her out to dinner for her birthday. Her response was, “Oh good, cause we have a dinner planned for me and I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for me and the kids.” *blink* So that means that a)I wasn’t invited in the first place, and b)that I get to pay for her entire family. I get that I can afford this more than them–I do. But I’m starting to really resent being treated as a walking checkbook. 🙁 My sister told me that they are planning to go to TGIFridays for my nephew’s birthday and Red Lobster for my niece’s. I kind of wonder if they told me just so that I can pay for it.

My uncle called me this morning and told me that he wants to buy a car for my niece and he was hoping that I would contribute money so they can buy her a better one. I told him that given that we just paid for my cousin’s tuition to a vocational program, we are about to hand my nephew money towards his tuition, and we have a trip to New Zealand next month–no, we can’t give them money. He then proceeded to kind of whine about how he can’t find anything within their budget but there are x, y, and z cars that are much better for only $5,000 more. I kind of saw red.

This is a lot of the reason I stopped talking to my family years ago. They’ve done this to me since I was 16. Whatever amount of money I have to live on I stretch. At this point Noah makes far more money than I ever dreamed of living on, but we also have financial goals that are fairly tight within his salary range. We can’t reach them if we support my whole family, which I don’t want to do anyway. Hell, I feel guilty asking Noah to pay for as much for my family as I do.

And don’t even get me started on my mom.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Full of fail.

I just can’t get my head going to write these papers. I know I need to. I know that the earlier I do it the better because who knows when the Lizard will be arriving. I just can’t find focus. I’ve done the research. I’ve done more fucking research (as a procrastinating method) than I have done on any paper ever. I just cn’t figure out how to say what I want to say. I write so much better when I’m under pressure and that is terrible of me. 🙁

This is why I didn’t come down on students too hard for last minute papers unless they were obviously bad. If you can write well at the last minute, go you. If you can’t then you need the lead time for planning and editing. Me, I write best at the last minute. But it increases my stress way more than is good. Erf. Fuck it. I’m taking a bath.

+/-

– The registration department at SJSU has no record of me filing for a leave of absence.
– I may have to reapply for the MA program and finish my degree next semester.
– We won’t be able to move to PA until the middle of next fucking winter.
– Going through my last semester of grad school with an infant.
– More boredom over the next few months because I will have precious little to do between now and the baby coming.
– Being denied my easy path to moving to PA that I have gotten good and set in my head.

+ Hey, more time to read for the MA exam and memorize some god damn poetry so I don’t potentially fail that portion of the comp exam.
+ All the Powers That Be within my actual department are fighting like mad for me to be able to finish this semester and they are arguing with registration as I type. Go them.
+ I will have much less stress during the pregnancy.
+ I will maybe be able to take Spanish classes at a community college and waive the language exam requirement if I have the time off from school.
+ I could take some classes for fun at a JC credit/no credit so that I’m adding no stress but some interesting learning. (Could be neat.)

Alright, I’ve managed to talk myself out of being super pissy, but this is still frustrating.

{the short list} Frustration.

I am not an event promoter. Let me say this again, I am not an event promoter. I have been saying for over a year that if I am involved in this con I cannot be one of the people promoting it. I have been saying this because I have a pretty good grasp of my frustration levels and the things that will make me angry and I will no longer be helpful. However, due to massive flaking on the parts of several people I am now doing event promotion during the last six weeks of the con. I’m doing it while trying to prepare for my last two weeks of teaching professionally. I’m doing it while trying to pack my house so it can be “staged”. I’m doing it while trying to move. I’m doing it while trying to figure out where in the fuck in Pittsburgh will I not drown in the mid-western white mentality. (I love that people on message boards try to explain how culturally diverse their childhoods were by saying, “Well, my parents were upset when Martin Luther King Jr. died…”) I’m doing it while going through a fairly difficult pregnancy.

I’m having to suck it up and deal with people and things I don’t want to deal with right now. I’m tired of being complained at. I’m tired of having to “be nice” when I would really like to punch some people in the face. I was willing to handle arranging the classes and dealing with presenters. I have done that. I actually kind of enjoyed that. It was really neat to get such a broad array of presenters and classes when I was told it couldn’t be done. Go freakin me. But that is all I signed on to do for many and myriad reasons. Now it doesn’t matter what I signed on to do. Either I help do stuff that is way beyond the scope of what I agreed to do or it gets dumped on someone who is turning around and freaking out at me 20 times a day and making my stress level go through the roof. I think when this is over I’m going to avoid talking to him for a year or so. Of course, this will make me one more evil person who has abandoned him. Right now, I don’t care. The pressure he is putting on me is making me crazy. And now we have another pushy person on board who might actually get some work done, but I have to put up with public admonishments to be nice in order to get that help. I really want to say fuck everyone and just walk away.

{the girlys} Frustration

There are exactly six people on this filter. You are the women I trust to a)listen to me vent and not let it color your opinions overall b)give me advice when I ask for it and not when I don’t want it c)understand that mostly right now I am freaking out because I am pregnant and not because something is basically broken in my life.

Noah and I are fighting a lot about things we shouldn’t be fighting about. He has a lot of friendships based around him taking care of people. I have an incredibly hard time with this. I have an even harder time when those friendships involve him giving them money/buying them things. I’m angry because it feels like this is a threat to my long-term security. We have reached a more stable place on this front thanks to advice from Crystal–he now has a yearly budget on how much he can give away. He’s not thrilled that the amount is as low as it is, but oh well. It’s all that I feel comfortable with.

Today we got into it because he brought up a book he wants me to read. We need to buy a new copy because he loaned his copy to one of his ex’s and she got rid of it. This is the second book she has done this with. Ok, books aren’t that expensive but the actual monetary value isn’t the point. She doesn’t think about how her actuons will affect the people around her. She treats her husband like shit. She treated Noah like shit when they dated. What am I supposed to think about her? He has another friend he has been talking to more lately and what he has told me about her is even worse than the freakin ex. Why shouldn’t I think of these women as bitches? The problem is that he wants to bring them up and talk about them and I am supposed to be friendly and warm. I can’t do it. I’m hostile. But that isn’t ok.

I keep telling people off. Everything I have been thinking for years I am saying. I feel like I should just shut up and yet I can’t seem to keep my opinions to myself.

I’m feeling miserable all the time. I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of whining and bitching and not going out. I want my body back. I’m tired of feeling pressured to have sex because if I don’t Noah is an asshole. I don’t know what to do right now. I feel so dead inside.