Tag: mom

I am very interested in Hank Hill. I am obsessed with him. I re-watch the episodes over and over and I am always touched by Hank.

He’s not a perfect man. He often is a hypocrite. He’s emotionally distant and all that jazz but I love contemplating his character.

I love how he is such a good friend. I am particularly interested in his friendship with Bill. Hank claims his best friend is Dale, but that doesn’t jive with me. In all his behavior, I think that Hank values and coddles his best friend Bill more. He enjoys his relationship with Bill because he is always in charge. He makes Bill’s decisions for him…. I can’t decide if it’s toxic or not, to me it seems like real love. To take care of someone and always know what’s better for them.

He goes through great lengths to help Bill. He takes responsibility for things that he can’t possibly control. In an episode I watched recently, a college kid threw a water balloon at him and his mom and he took the hit for her. Then he said, “I’m sorry I let that happen.”

He’s so controlling and I don’t why I find that incredibly appealing. Someone who knows better than you, so just let them. That sounds weak minded but it feels good- to surrender, to let someone else have control. Some would say that makes you truly strong, if you talk to the right people.

In the episode I was watching, it’s about Hank driving his mother and her friends to a miniature musuem. He mused about the miniatures and said, “She only took them out when she was heading into a funk. Like when I was 10 to 14….” And he also commented, “-from that time you went weird.”

Hank is so proficient with dealing with Bill because he had to deal with his mother’s depression. Hank instinctively reaches out to support Bill because he has been used to that role in his life. When it was time to do a suicide watch for Bill, Hank took a leave of absence from work to help him. Maybe he had experience with that when he was younger. (Although the point could also be made that previous to show’s first episode, Hank has had to do a suicide watch for Bill before when Lenore left.) But still, his first experience with depression undoubtedly came from his mother.

Yet another thing Hank and I have in common- feeling crushed by our mother’s depression. Feeling responsible for her as a child, the roles reversed. We are the care taker and they act the part of child.

I just love this character. I could go on about him ad nauseam.

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The Desire to Procreate

Related imageI was watching videos on facebook when one had a profound impact on me. I will never not stop for a cat video. The one I watched was about a little prematurely born kitten. They took great pains to save this kitten and it even had to have an incubator to survive. All the care and attention to this tiny little thing, and I thought surely the owners were so dedicated and loving to save him.

Only it wasn’t the owner of the kitty. She was, I guess. But her job was actually to nurse these unwanted little kittens back to health so they could be healthy enough for adoption. She said her whole goal was to get them healthy enough to leave her. They didn’t need her anymore, she said. I was astonished that the person doing all that care for them wasn’t some dedicated owner. Her whole function is to get the kitties healthy enough to leave her.

It sounds like being a foster mom. You take little kids that don’t have a place, and you teach them love. Maybe they don’t know what it’s like, and after you, now they will.

I’ve been walking around enviously eyeing mothers and their children lately. My desire knows no bounds, even though I know it is illogical. But so many people who are worse off or not as mature as me have babies and I am left without. I’m nursing quite the chip on my shoulder instead.

Everytime I see a clearly obese woman holding a baby in Wal Mart, I want to scream. They don’t know what they have that I can’t have. I feel so lonely watching them. I want to create and love and cherish somebody. I can’t do that right now, but I have a lot of love to give. I could make a difference in a young child’s life, then send them on their way. Would that make me feel better, or will I always resent my husband for not letting us have kids of our own?

Strange but True Vol. VII

I have been quite emotional lately. Just this last week, I have had two nervous breakdowns. They were two days in a row consecutively. On Tuesday, my mother came over to my house to enlist my help with some social media questions. (i.e. she’s finally getting a facebook) and help with her cell phone.

She has precious videos and pictures of my late cousin Toby on her old phone. It’s falling apart and she needs to switch devices, but the old one won’t allow her to transfer her videos due to it’s damaged state. I have tried everything I can to help her move her photos but I can’t do anything about the videos. I became very anxious with this task because I was quickly realizing I wouldn’t be able to help her. She was frustrated, and I was frustrated.

Then she mentioned my father. She has been DESPERATELY trying to get in touch with him. He is not worthy of her time and energy but what the hell, she says, “You love who you love.”

She has tried multiple methods of communicating with him. She waited 2 years for him to get out of prison, and when he got out, he promptly dropped her. He refused to return her texts and calls. He frequently got new cell phones because he was always losing one or the other. He was able to completely drop off the face of the earth as far as we were concerned for many months after his release. He chose not to contact either of us.

My mother left letters for him at his mother’s house. She begged him to give her closure. When Toby died, she wanted him to know, and even after I was the one that told him- he still didn’t call my mother. I thought that was very cruel of him, for being someone who used to claim to love her. Anybody who knows her knows she lost a son, not just a nephew. It was heartless of him not to call her, especially when he claims to be a Christian man.

I was punishing him for not talking to her. I didn’t want to talk to him. But one day out of the blue, he was back in town and wanted to visit with me. We don’t have very many opportunities to see each other so I said yes. He came and brought me lunch at work one day and we spent 30 minutes together.

I chose not to tell my mother about this encounter. It makes me uncomfortable to discuss my father with her because she immediately needs to know everything we discussed. She won’t take no for an answer and becomes quite belligerent if you’re not willing to divulge details. If I try to be vague, she pesters me for more information. It’s quite stressful, which is why I declined to mention it initially.

I always somehow put my foot in my mouth, though. I accidentally let slip about seeing him and she FLIPPED OUT ON ME. She started crying and told me how could I not mention it. She loves him so much and she doesn’t even know where he is, but I didn’t think to tell her?!?! She was so upset with me, before long, she had me sobbing hysterically.

She can still throw a mean guilt trip after all this time.

***

One day passes without us speaking.

On Wednesday, Jake and I had an unusual shared day off together. They are far and few between. We wasted the entire day lounging, watching TV, and fighting like the dickens. As per usual, it was about marital relations. #snooze #boring #tellmesomethingidontknow #thedword #fml #relationshipissues

Jake infuriates me when he uses the ‘D’ word. He suggests breaking up is a good idea sometimes. I privately agree with him sometimes, but I can’t imagine starting over. Or rather, I have imagined it, and I would rather not. He and I are a good pair. I don’t see the occasional squabble to be worth losing such an important connection. We eventually kissed and made up.

Read this article: These 10 Questions Could Determine if Your Relationship Will Succeed or Fail

***

On Thursday, I decided to give my mother a ring after work on my way home.

Me: Hey Momma, what are you up to?
Mom: I’m just watching TV
Me: Oh, okay. Who are you hanging out with?
Mom: Your dad
Me: …. Which dad? My first dad or my other dad?
Mom: The one you resemble
Me: How long has he been over there?
Mom: Johnny… how long have you been over here? 2 days? 3?
Me: …. I’m surprised you didn’t mention that. It’s only been 1 day since I talked to you. He’s been staying there this whole time and you didn’t think to tell me? You know I’ve been feeling guilty about how I didn’t mention him to you.
Her: *laughs snidely at me* Okayyy…..
Me: Well, I’m glad he’s there.
Mom: Johnny, she’s glad you’re here.
Him, phone background: Hey sweetie!
Me: Hey. I’ve gotta be going. Have a good night.
Mom: Night.

THAT NONCHALANT BITCH

Mother, I May Not (?)

Lately, I’ve been dealing with some “lady issues,” as I like to delicately put it. My reproductive organs are not my best friends. I have had a lot of trouble with my innards as of late, particularly my stomach and urinary tract. I’ve also been depressed about work and my physical appearance. Never want to do It.

Desire to “do it” is a key ingredient in the recipe of creating offspring. Pictured here are adorable pictures of baby animals with their moms, because it’s much more endearing than a picture of my crappy mom would be. I’ve been thinking about moms lately, and being one.

Jake and I finally went on our first double date. We went to see roller derby with his cousin and his wife. It was a great time!! They are all a little older than me in their mid thirties.

I innocently asked Sachiko the wife if people have been asking them when they’re going to start having kids (just got married last year), and she replied she’s ready now. It was obviously a sore point between the two, since Korey is going to school for a technical career and only working part-time with her working as well. They hardly have time or money for a kid right now.

Neither do Jake and I. Jake is actually adamant about wanting to adopt or foster children. He himself suffered in the foster system so he has a strong motivation. It is Jake’s style to care for another unfortunate individual, to prevent some innocent child from experiencing what he did in the system. I support this notion fully, however I would be lying if I didn’t say in the back of my head I always expected to have one of my own; a baby with the man I love.

Lately, Jake has been chastising me for bringing it up. He says I shouldn’t get my hopes up with my current physical condition. He’s a smart guy, bringing up all the cons to pregnancy that I am terrified of… and yet, I’m still wondering about it.

I don’t want a child NOW or anything. Unfortunately, I have to agree that my lifestyle and current physical ailments do support his theory. I would get so fat and never get it off, never be the same. (Be worse than I am now? *cringe*) I might not even be able to house a little baby with the women’s troubles I’ve had.

Considering the thought of actually never having a child of my own does make me sad. I do want to love some child that doesn’t have any love in their life. I do support the idea of adopting/fostering children. Can I really give up on the thought of having children myself though? I feel like I would regret in my old age if I did not.

I’m 26 going on 27. One of the reasons I got married is because I recognized I wasn’t getting any younger. Being Jake’s wife makes me feel older than my years sometimes, I feel mentally 32ish or so.

I always thought my career should be resolved and I should be comfortable and married by now. So far, I have checked off married. I am not comfortable in life or settled in my career. Still having a lot of negative feelings about my current job, but stop looking for other employment opportunities for the time being. Don’t want to be too rash.

I have a long ways to go before Jake and I are making enough money to actually care for a child, have a house. It seems like we’ll never get there with all the debt we are in.

What will I do? Can I reconcile these feelings, or will I get up off my ass and try to live a healthier life and build a better body? (Fat chance.)

Dads & Drugs

Today, I was vexed when I looked down at my cellphone and saw it was my dad calling. My biological dad, not my first dad. It is tiresome how I always have to clarify whom I’m talking about when I say “my dad.” Who, Eddie, the man who believed was my father for over 20 years? Or my second dad, my real dad, whom I’ve only known for less than 3 years? And he has literally spent half of that time incarcerated.

I am really resentful that he landed himself in jail again. Both he and my mom were addicted and also running their own game. It was simple, Johnny got caught and got thrown in jail. That was over a year ago. He told me today that at the beginning of 2017, he should be moving to a half way house in Oklahoma City. I thought it was incredibly tactful of my dad not to bring up the fact that I haven’t written him. I don’t normally take his calls, or return his texts with any frequency. I have chosen to freeze him out, make him feel my absence while he is gone so he won’t take advantage of our time together. He treats my mother poorly even though he’s inside and she’s outside and still heartily dedicated to him.

I don’t actually like my biological dad. He has been a harbinger of chaos in my mother’s life. We have a complicated relationship. He thinks the world of me and speaks very highly of me, so it’s hard to have hard feelings towards him when he’s so nice to me. But at the same time, everything he says to me is a lie and I expect him to fall right back into his old ways again when he gets out. I don’t trust him or my mother to do the right thing. I desperately want them to live a drug free life and stay out of trouble, but one must wonder if that’s like asking a cheetah to change it’s spots……

I want to have faith, I just feel so drained.

Don’t disappoint me anymore. I hate hearing from my biological dad. When he texts me or calls me, it upsets me because he’s trying to get in when I’m trying to build a stone wall to keep him out. Leave me alone. Learn your lesson. I don’t have any use for either of my parents if they are on drugs and in danger of getting thrown back into jail.

I’ve always lived by the saying, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” That explains my silence towards Johnny. I want him to feel my condemnation, but I fear I can’t tell him anything about how I feel. It’s unkind to send a fellow in prison mean letters, so I just don’t say anything. He wants to hear from me, and I get agitated when I think about forging a connection with him. Stay away from me until you’re ready to do better. It’s so hard to set boundaries with people. I agonize frequently over whether or not to send him a letter with my clear expectations, No. 1 on the list:

Get & maintain a legitimate job
Pay Your Bills
Stay Off Drugs
Remain loyal to each other

Can that really be too much to ask? My mother and father’s relationship can be explosive like dynamite. One week they’re besotted with each other and talking everyday and other weeks, she asks me if I have heard from him at all. They fight, and they bounce back together. He gives her a lot of shit that in my mother’s past life, she would never ever have taken from a man. I don’t think he deserves her sometimes, and most of the time I think he’s a loser and I’m upset with her for wanting him so much, so they can do bad together.

But at least they’re together that way.

Lacy, the Lady in Charge (Behind the Scenes)

Image result for lady bossThings have been hectic for me lately. I’ve been suffering from a pretty strong bout of brain fog. (Read more) Sounds like a funky excuse, but it’s more common than you think!

I’ve been experiencing some uncomfortable health issues and depression has been a side effect. The other day at work, my co-worker Dottie observed that I’ve been off the last couple of days, and I found myself admitting to her how I find it really difficult to get out of bed. Or at least, that was the case last week. I could barely peel myself out in time to get to work and showed up sloppy, hair not combed or simple things like forgetting my makeup.

I’ve been trying to do better and Jake has had a schedule change recently which has changed my sleeping patterns. He’s getting a new job soon! He starts next week as a pharmacy technician at Mercy hospital. I couldn’t be more proud. This is what we have been striving for, and the money is surely appreciated.

While I have been experiencing strong depression, don’t be mistaken about my married life. I am actually still ecstatic regarding my feelings and our marriage. We’ve been tested early on but I feel we met many compromises to see ourselves through our hardships. Being married is like finding a blessed island in the middle of a turbulent ocean, a sanctuary in the middle of a thrashing sea. I feel utterly safe and comforted, completely accepted and loved. We have been joined now and I always feels this connection between us, even when things are hard.

I’ve been wanting to seek counseling for some time now. I’ve failed to actually seek it out because I’m looking for a specific kind of therapist. I went to a younger therapist once and didn’t enjoy the experience. When I was a young kid, I was the teacher’s pet and would stay after school to chat with the older ladies. They were funny and wise, and with my Grandma missing in my life, I find myself seeking the attention of an older woman rather than a younger one.

I know it would help me a lot to seek counseling again. I have a lot of vices I’d like to discuss with someone objective. I find myself wanting to talk about my family affairs because they’re so stupid and complicated. My relationships with my mother and father are agonizing to me most of the time, and I think of them frequently though I don’t give them the satisfaction of knowing that. I’m punishing them by not talking to them. It backfires on me every time because I miss talking to them, but they friggin’ kill me so I seem to always repeat the process once I break the silence to assure myself they’re still alive and kicking. Resume resentment and sour feelings of emotional abandonment.

So as you might think, I don’t always have my shit together. Particularly, at work!! 😦 I have been stressed beyond a breaking point lately and just let a whole lot of shit slide. That’s why I’m not particularly proud to be running things. I can’t even run things in my own life. I am always forgetting to do important things for myself. I have trouble taking care of myself. I therefore have trouble managing a team of girls. I like to take a step back and just let things run on auto pilot.

Image result for lady boss

I’ve become very disappointed in my work ethic. I just don’t have the energy or will power to as well as I would like to up at my job. I want to think of the guests as nice people who help keep me in a job but mostly I feel like they’re nuisances. I’ve been stretched emotionally lately and just talking to people stresses me out. Of course, that makes doing my job well impossible. My anxiety has just been going haywire lately. Social anxiety has me dipping out of work early some nights, or otherwise praying and hoping my associates will want to go home early so I can get some solitude. I just find people talking to me very distracting and agitating. So often I just wish people, the guests and my co-workers alike, would just LEAVE. ME. ALONE.

I’m trying to work past these feelings. I try to curtail my anxiety by sitting down to work on projects in the back and let them do the check in work for the most part. I get anxiety when Chelsea sits down in the back and I am in the front. I resent doing more of the work, when I have more important things to do. I am trying to do better though, to smile and to have them be genuine rather than forced.

At work, my boss is still absent. She has been out sick since before my wedding. Since she was hired in July, she has probably worked a total of one month- and that is being generous. No one knows what ails her. She has a serious illness maybe cancer and is no longer ambulatory. She has to get around in a wheelchair when she is not in the hospital. We are in some limbo no-man’s land just waiting for the legal period to pass in which we can replace her. I have to last at least another month, mid way through November it sounded like to me. *HUFF*

I keep asking myself if I can hack this. I get so stressed out. When I think about what would make me happy and soothe my anxiety, it makes me sound so unambitious. Honestly, I would love to get hired on as a night audit manager overnight somewhere. I find the night time shift less stressful because you do not encounter as many people. But to take less money just to have less stress is going the wrong way in my career.

Speaking of my career, this experience has left me questioning my abilities. It is very nerve racking to have the job I always wanted (front office manager) and to absolutely fucking hate it. I feel overwhelmed constantly and a pressure to make everything run as smoothly as possible. I run around like a chicken with it’s head cut off instead, and feel like I’m doing a terrible job at everything I try to do.

I think it’s possible just because of my personal issues to be having troubles. I might not hate this job as much when I am mentally doing well and prepared for it. They say I should cut myself some slack more often, so here are some contributing factors to why I hate things so much right now:

A) I do not have an assistant to share the load
B) Expectations have not been clear on my manager’s part

CAN I MAKE IT?

Life of Recovery? Not so much.

ONE DAY AT A TIME WISDOM
Reminder of the Day from Al-Anon book

Sometimes when we hear of our loved one “falling off the wagon” or having a “slip,” we admit that we’re angry at the person themselves. We’re mad at them for wasting our time and how they make us feel—

That’s the trick, not letting this person and their addiction have power over you. Even as the addict experiences a relapse, you must remind yourself that you yourself are not faultless. Sometimes even I stray from what I know is good for me, and choose to do harmful things to myself out of wrecklessness. I have to realize my relapse is just as involuntary and forgivable as theirs is.

How do you think?

You Think Creatively

Your brain works best when you let your intuition be your guide. You like to imagine, speculate, and fantasize. You have fun playing with ideas.

You are interested in theories. You enjoy studying and developing them.

You are drawn toward art and philosophy, and sometimes even math. Almost every subject is interesting to you.

Speaking of which, I did experience my own relapse if kinds. Every couple of weeks, I start to doubt myself and think to myself that I’m tired of weed, sick of needing it. I tell myself half heartedly that I am going to try and quit. The last 5-6 days, I haven’t had any and the result is I am a not very care-free or nice. I’m sullen and moody. I can barely tolerate myself, hate being in my own skin.

I can’t blame my mom for trying to avoid the same feelings; for wanting to avoid facing reality. We do the same thing, just on different scales and I am realizing that as I spark up for the first time in what feels like ages. It’s amazing how much more bearable I find myself, and it was weird, I started looking up research on line for marijuana addiction/anonymous groups and found some information that caught my eye:

Symptoms of withdrawal:
More frequent dreams
Irritability
Anxiousness
Depression
Moodiness

Usually these feelings can persist up to 3 months since marijuana is stored in your body’s fat calls and therefore takes longer to detoxify from.

I was like BULL SHIT. I knew right then and there that quitting wasn’t for me. Jake even said to me, “You’re just not ready yet to quit yet, babe.” Because I was explaining to him my wanting to crawl the walls feeling and how anxious and upset I was. He said regretably that it’s normal for it to suck at least as long as the website said :(((( I couldn’t stand it, 5 days was bad enough. I don’t even like my after 5 days without it. My father used to tell my mother,

“Beg, borrow, or steal, I don’t care what you do,
but I don’t want to talk to you without it.”

I guess I’m the same way. More like her than I like to admit.