You're feeling weak and you think 'Oh yeah, I was hungry a couple hours ago. I should eat something.'
Then you keep thinking and 'realize' 'Oh, but I'm really overweight, its past midnight, I don't deserve food.'
And yes, thats the thought you have. Not the friendly, politically correct idea of 'Oh, I shouldn't eat, it may have me to gain too much weight.' No. My body has eaten too much, obviously I've had more than my share, I don't deserve any more food.
So then you're reflecting on the honest thought, and how you're a 'strong, powerful mom' that your child is unhealthily focused on, and 'Why can't you get it together for her sake, if not yours?'
You have seen how she watches every move you make, dissects your decisions with a fine tooth comb, and scrutinizes your every conversation with a magnifying glass. If your husband announces a decision, she shrugs. But you? You need a theory, thesis argument, ten references (she will check) and two virgin sacrifices before she accepts it as truth.
And really? While its irritating as fuck, and you get overly annoyed by it, you either stand by your stance, or you're presented with proof you're wrong and you apologize, thank her for checking, and admit you've learned something new. You don't hold to ideas that are proven false because willful ignorance is something you can't accept, other than in hearing about the news. Your life is depressing enough without that piled on top, thanks very much.
So you continue with your second motto of 'Leave things better than you found them', smile at strangers even when you're scared, organize parts of a shop though you're not buying something, help someone move something and go on about your business. You buy extra food and blankets to keep in your car, just in case someone needs it, and now you're back to food.
So you sigh and acknowledge a weak body is stupid, there's a limit to hunger, go get something from the fridge. You open the door, peek inside, see multiple things you normally enjoy, but you don't want anything now. You feel heavy and unattractive, and its not like your stomach is still growling, that passed hours ago. So you shrug, shut the door, and sigh as you snag your computer to head to bed but decide to whip up a quick 'How I've been' post since it's been a while since you've posted.
And you recognize the awkwardness of posting this, because you're not 'secretly looking for compliments/encouragement/denial' you're just observing a part of your day in an unfiltered post because some days are nice and some nights are bad. And you press publish because you don't think its a shameful thing to have these feelings sometimes.
Update. Heard this today and feel very emotional about it:
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Update on situation(s) 10/14
So it's been a tumultuous two weeks.
On Thursday, MJ tried to hang herself.
On Saturday, I and my sister get into an extreme shouting match the likes of which I have quite literally never been in with anyone, let alone my sister. I blatantly told her I stopped being her sister when I had to take her daughter in instead of having my own.
On Monday, the hospital discharged our child to a psych ward without telling us, proclaiming they 'left a voicemail' (but mine's been full for weeks, and Hubby never got a call period. I got one phone call), and when we called to see why they called, they said MJ was still there, nothing had changed. When we arrived to give her homework from school, they told us there was no one there by that name. Of course I am irate, what do you mean, that's my daughter, you'd better have her. They ask us to step aside, the social worker will be here shortly to discuss it with us. This is the same social worker that's terribly insensitive and seems to think most children's parents are at fault for everything. That was fun.
On Tuesday, Hubby and I called old friends to discuss the situation, hoping for sympathy, some new ideas of what could have set MJ off, if there's something we didn't see, if there's treatments they've heard that we haven't, etc. That's definitely not what we got.
We got some interesting questions that were leading, and quite evocative of an interrogation, followed by some gentle allegations that we're too strict (particularly me- Which is true, I'm the strict one), too hard on her (not particularly true, we're fairly gentle in most punishments, and rarely get more than vaguely irritated at her when she doesn't meet one, as the bar isn't set very high to begin with), and don't love her enough (W.T.F.)
Now it's certainly true from a distance, if you see us with her once or twice a year, versus a monthly-esque adjustment into the household, you'll see I'm rather strict with her manners and interruptions, as we're unlikely to see said visitors very often at all, and prioritize them on those rare occasions. When I say rare, I mean I'm that strict possibly 4-5 times a year. Most times, MJ's needs are prioritized, even over friends after they've had their '3 visit rule' met.
It's also true that we use our blogs are a diary of sorts, to vent and acknowledge our frustrations and anger, rather than show them to MJ, or worse, take said frustrations out on her. Most of the things we say in these forums will never reach her ears or eyes, as we realize these thoughts are not appropriate to tell her. If all you really hear of our dealings with her are the blogs, or the times she's pushed us to our limit, you're likely to have a skewed idea of our relationship.
But frankly, when a child has attempted suicide, and the parents are struggling, when that child has yet to be released from the hospital, it is never okay to imply that the parents are at fault for not loving her enough. It's not only unhelpful for if it were true: they can hardly suddenly increase their love for a child, it's there or it's not. It's also hurtful, as it's saying the parents aren't worthy of having said child, and are at fault for a child's decision.
It's of particular note that the child made the attempt at school, because she KNEW we pay too much attention to her when she's home to be successful there.
Since then, we've internalized a bit of what they said, questioning ourselves, our relationship with MJ, and our relationship with the ones who believe we're unsuitable parents. Frankly, if we don't love her enough, I'm quite confident no other parent can love her more. If we don't show our love with her enough, that's something we can't attempt to do more than we've been doing before this second attempt, as we've already done as much as we can to show her she's loved since the first. And in final, with such a close-minded view, and refusal to acknowledge they can be wrong, we're still unsure whether we'd like to continue a friendship with such unsupportive friends. We've decided to wait and see what our feelings are after we've finished with the crisis we're currently living in. The final relationship is by far the least of our concerns when our daughter's life is in danger.
Since that Tuesday, we've also looked into the first attempt and second attempts commonalities and found that her first attempt was three days after seeing her bio mother, and this one was six days after. When we visited her on Wednesday, she admitted she'd kept her phone calls as short as possible, and talked to us as little as possible to keep herself from being comforted and loved so she can stay determined to try again. She cried and asked why we had to come, when she wasn't expecting it, and couldn't prepare to be off-putting.
Today, Saturday, we spoke with bio mom, who said she wanted to back off on meeting MJ, as she had finally internalized our conversation from the previous Saturday, and feels that it's her leaving MJ at the end of the visits that is setting MJ off. The conversations they have could have an impact, but my thought is that MJ wasn't stable from the start of the meeting due to her friend's attempt a few weeks ago. She wasn't warned that she'd see her bio mom, and that likely wrecked her equilibrium, as she almost immediately was using an online consultation after she left her.
It certainly doesn't help that she feels isolated and bullied at school, and I was too nauseas that week to work out with her (she went with her dad instead), so she likely felt a lack of support compared to most weeks. We still talked about her day, what she did, what she liked, what she looked forward to, what she didn't like, just like every day. But it wasn't enough.
As both our parents have stated, we've given everything we can give and it's not enough right now to keep her stable. She needs professional assistance to get a cushion to help her deal with feelings that overwhelm her. All the love and acceptance in the world won't save her from herself when she's drowning in her own feelings that she hasn't learned to assimilate well enough.
Unfortunately, I know this from experience myself. These last two weeks have been so stressful, I'm slipping in and out of depression. I was reminded on Thursday just how difficult and pointless life seems when you're depressed. I woke utterly bereft of any feeling beyond grief and weariness. What was the point of getting out of my bed, when it's just going to be a long, listless day without my daughter, separated from my husband, littered with tears from grief? Why continue to exist? What's the point? I ended up running late, but I got up, dressed, and on my way to work. I stayed close to tears for hours while I worked, trying not to give in and worry my clients. At one point, I texted Hubby in despair because I couldn't remember how to smile and every time I tried, it looked wrong.
It finally faded away enough to let me get through my day. I'm quite good at pretending, after all. But that night we went to Costco, and they had a 58" teddy bear on sale. Now normally, I ask Hubby for extravagances before I put them in the cart. This time, I didn't hesitate. I picked up the first one to catch my eye, and put it into the cart. Then I looked right at Hubby and waited. He didn't even quibble. What he did do was check it over and declare it wasn't good enough, because it had some straggly hair. So I picked a different one, he looked it over, and I put it into the cart. This teddy is nearly 5 feet long, thicker in the middle than I am, and so soft and cuddly. I smiled without effort for the first time that day.
The social worker and case worker for MJ are looking into long-term care for her in a psych ward to get her stabilized. They say it's not uncommon for a chemical imbalance to happen during puberty, and after a year without suicide attempts, the danger has usually passed and they can begin weaning her off the drugs slowly. The therapist Hubby and I have been seeing said she's seen cases where the child wakes up one day and just no longer feels hopeless, and will be fine. I'm kind of banking on that, and willing to wait and keep working toward it. The therapist said that working with children like this is like an abusive relationship, and therapy is simply wiping our wounds before going back in the ring, ready to deal with her fairly and gently until she's able to handle more.
I'm relaxing my honesty stance. I've always been strictly honest to the point of being painfully so, but I don't feel that's necessarily in MJ's best interest right now. 'The truth hurts' is quite certainly true, as proven on last Saturday when I tore into my sister without a single lie, but plenty of truths that she never knew, and was not ready to face until it was screamed into her ear. My words are still in her head, as proven by our conversation tonight, when she said she felt backing off, initiating contact when the psychiatrist suggests it, starting slowly with letters, then phone calls, then visits would be best.
So I'm relaxing it. I'm tired of adhering to being strictly honest, and it doesn't seem to be beneficial for the most part, beyond all children immediately believing me when I assure them I'm being truthful. Look forward to some entertaining tall tales in future. It's kinda fun to see how well I'm believed when I'm bullshitting. Also, Hubby? Jackalopes aren't real, but your face when I told you they were and you believed me certainly was amusing. Love you!
On Thursday, MJ tried to hang herself.
On Saturday, I and my sister get into an extreme shouting match the likes of which I have quite literally never been in with anyone, let alone my sister. I blatantly told her I stopped being her sister when I had to take her daughter in instead of having my own.
On Monday, the hospital discharged our child to a psych ward without telling us, proclaiming they 'left a voicemail' (but mine's been full for weeks, and Hubby never got a call period. I got one phone call), and when we called to see why they called, they said MJ was still there, nothing had changed. When we arrived to give her homework from school, they told us there was no one there by that name. Of course I am irate, what do you mean, that's my daughter, you'd better have her. They ask us to step aside, the social worker will be here shortly to discuss it with us. This is the same social worker that's terribly insensitive and seems to think most children's parents are at fault for everything. That was fun.
On Tuesday, Hubby and I called old friends to discuss the situation, hoping for sympathy, some new ideas of what could have set MJ off, if there's something we didn't see, if there's treatments they've heard that we haven't, etc. That's definitely not what we got.
We got some interesting questions that were leading, and quite evocative of an interrogation, followed by some gentle allegations that we're too strict (particularly me- Which is true, I'm the strict one), too hard on her (not particularly true, we're fairly gentle in most punishments, and rarely get more than vaguely irritated at her when she doesn't meet one, as the bar isn't set very high to begin with), and don't love her enough (W.T.F.)
Now it's certainly true from a distance, if you see us with her once or twice a year, versus a monthly-esque adjustment into the household, you'll see I'm rather strict with her manners and interruptions, as we're unlikely to see said visitors very often at all, and prioritize them on those rare occasions. When I say rare, I mean I'm that strict possibly 4-5 times a year. Most times, MJ's needs are prioritized, even over friends after they've had their '3 visit rule' met.
It's also true that we use our blogs are a diary of sorts, to vent and acknowledge our frustrations and anger, rather than show them to MJ, or worse, take said frustrations out on her. Most of the things we say in these forums will never reach her ears or eyes, as we realize these thoughts are not appropriate to tell her. If all you really hear of our dealings with her are the blogs, or the times she's pushed us to our limit, you're likely to have a skewed idea of our relationship.
But frankly, when a child has attempted suicide, and the parents are struggling, when that child has yet to be released from the hospital, it is never okay to imply that the parents are at fault for not loving her enough. It's not only unhelpful for if it were true: they can hardly suddenly increase their love for a child, it's there or it's not. It's also hurtful, as it's saying the parents aren't worthy of having said child, and are at fault for a child's decision.
It's of particular note that the child made the attempt at school, because she KNEW we pay too much attention to her when she's home to be successful there.
Since then, we've internalized a bit of what they said, questioning ourselves, our relationship with MJ, and our relationship with the ones who believe we're unsuitable parents. Frankly, if we don't love her enough, I'm quite confident no other parent can love her more. If we don't show our love with her enough, that's something we can't attempt to do more than we've been doing before this second attempt, as we've already done as much as we can to show her she's loved since the first. And in final, with such a close-minded view, and refusal to acknowledge they can be wrong, we're still unsure whether we'd like to continue a friendship with such unsupportive friends. We've decided to wait and see what our feelings are after we've finished with the crisis we're currently living in. The final relationship is by far the least of our concerns when our daughter's life is in danger.
Since that Tuesday, we've also looked into the first attempt and second attempts commonalities and found that her first attempt was three days after seeing her bio mother, and this one was six days after. When we visited her on Wednesday, she admitted she'd kept her phone calls as short as possible, and talked to us as little as possible to keep herself from being comforted and loved so she can stay determined to try again. She cried and asked why we had to come, when she wasn't expecting it, and couldn't prepare to be off-putting.
Today, Saturday, we spoke with bio mom, who said she wanted to back off on meeting MJ, as she had finally internalized our conversation from the previous Saturday, and feels that it's her leaving MJ at the end of the visits that is setting MJ off. The conversations they have could have an impact, but my thought is that MJ wasn't stable from the start of the meeting due to her friend's attempt a few weeks ago. She wasn't warned that she'd see her bio mom, and that likely wrecked her equilibrium, as she almost immediately was using an online consultation after she left her.
It certainly doesn't help that she feels isolated and bullied at school, and I was too nauseas that week to work out with her (she went with her dad instead), so she likely felt a lack of support compared to most weeks. We still talked about her day, what she did, what she liked, what she looked forward to, what she didn't like, just like every day. But it wasn't enough.
As both our parents have stated, we've given everything we can give and it's not enough right now to keep her stable. She needs professional assistance to get a cushion to help her deal with feelings that overwhelm her. All the love and acceptance in the world won't save her from herself when she's drowning in her own feelings that she hasn't learned to assimilate well enough.
Unfortunately, I know this from experience myself. These last two weeks have been so stressful, I'm slipping in and out of depression. I was reminded on Thursday just how difficult and pointless life seems when you're depressed. I woke utterly bereft of any feeling beyond grief and weariness. What was the point of getting out of my bed, when it's just going to be a long, listless day without my daughter, separated from my husband, littered with tears from grief? Why continue to exist? What's the point? I ended up running late, but I got up, dressed, and on my way to work. I stayed close to tears for hours while I worked, trying not to give in and worry my clients. At one point, I texted Hubby in despair because I couldn't remember how to smile and every time I tried, it looked wrong.
It finally faded away enough to let me get through my day. I'm quite good at pretending, after all. But that night we went to Costco, and they had a 58" teddy bear on sale. Now normally, I ask Hubby for extravagances before I put them in the cart. This time, I didn't hesitate. I picked up the first one to catch my eye, and put it into the cart. Then I looked right at Hubby and waited. He didn't even quibble. What he did do was check it over and declare it wasn't good enough, because it had some straggly hair. So I picked a different one, he looked it over, and I put it into the cart. This teddy is nearly 5 feet long, thicker in the middle than I am, and so soft and cuddly. I smiled without effort for the first time that day.
The social worker and case worker for MJ are looking into long-term care for her in a psych ward to get her stabilized. They say it's not uncommon for a chemical imbalance to happen during puberty, and after a year without suicide attempts, the danger has usually passed and they can begin weaning her off the drugs slowly. The therapist Hubby and I have been seeing said she's seen cases where the child wakes up one day and just no longer feels hopeless, and will be fine. I'm kind of banking on that, and willing to wait and keep working toward it. The therapist said that working with children like this is like an abusive relationship, and therapy is simply wiping our wounds before going back in the ring, ready to deal with her fairly and gently until she's able to handle more.
I'm relaxing my honesty stance. I've always been strictly honest to the point of being painfully so, but I don't feel that's necessarily in MJ's best interest right now. 'The truth hurts' is quite certainly true, as proven on last Saturday when I tore into my sister without a single lie, but plenty of truths that she never knew, and was not ready to face until it was screamed into her ear. My words are still in her head, as proven by our conversation tonight, when she said she felt backing off, initiating contact when the psychiatrist suggests it, starting slowly with letters, then phone calls, then visits would be best.
So I'm relaxing it. I'm tired of adhering to being strictly honest, and it doesn't seem to be beneficial for the most part, beyond all children immediately believing me when I assure them I'm being truthful. Look forward to some entertaining tall tales in future. It's kinda fun to see how well I'm believed when I'm bullshitting. Also, Hubby? Jackalopes aren't real, but your face when I told you they were and you believed me certainly was amusing. Love you!
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Another Attempt
Well, she made it five months before trying it again.
Mia attempted suicide again today. She was amused when I cried. She laughed when she admitted she didn't bring her lunch box to school because she didn't expect to live to lunch. She said she doesn't see a point in living in the same breath as she says she doesn't want the younger littles to imitate her. I think she's amused at everything right now.
So she went to the bathroom during class changes, and decided while she was peeing, that it was a good time to die. She had written a suicide note early today in class and so she took the string from my jacket (that she borrowed today), tied it to a rafter while standing on the toilet, and jumped.
The only reason she didn't die is because she was too tall. Her feet could touch the ground. She has some superficial scratches around her neck and a red stretch mark in the front of her neck, but otherwise is unharmed.
The irony is that there was no warning. Her plan was actually sound, her letter well written. She's a manipulative little birch. She said she saw no point in living.
Alright then. I think something in me has broken now. One day we're going to come home to a dead child, or get a call from her school that she's finally succeeded. I feel a bit like a parent whose child has gone off to war. Difference being they die for a good cause.
She's at war, but with herself. I'm grieving and angry, she seemed surprised to hear I'm angry. Hubby is actually quite upset, but says he's not angry. Maybe the anger will come soon.
Why is it like this?
Where did we fail?
Are all children we have going to have going to be like this?
Is there anything that will salvage this child?
Even if she makes it to adulthood, is she just going to keep trying until she succeeds?
I think I need counselling for myself. I can feel my depression rising rapidly to consume me. I'm feeling listless with bouts of grief bubbling up and bursting out. My eyes and nose and cheeks hurt. I hate crying.
MJ when explained what grief means asked why I feel loss. I'm baffled as to how to answer that.
She just said "hey, at least I didn't start drugs like I'd planned to do this summer." I'm fairly certain she's feeling offset because hubby and I haven't torn into her or anything. She's trying to push us into something. Maybe she feels she needs to be punished. She just asked about juvie. This feels like validation of my theory.
She's pushing us away, and this time, I'll likely let her. How do you hold on to someone that wants to leave so badly?
Wednesday, September 6, 2017
Childling Ramblings
So today MJ asked Hubby if she could go back to the mental hospital. Today at school, she said her SS teacher told her she was 'ignorant, selfish, and mean', and it rather impacted her badly. When Hubby asked if this was why, she said it was only 20%, and that she didn't want to explain any more to him.
So when she went to bed, I strode in, pushed her over, and cuddled up to her back. Asked what's wrong, and refused to budge. For you future parents, this is a wonderful way to get your child to be honest and hear what they think. At first, she insisted nothing was wrong, but when I just laid there and held her closer, she started rambling.
She said that when people find out she likes girls, they look at her different. One group of girls she was friendly with completely stopped talking to her after she told them. They basically said they didn't want to talk to her because they didn't want her to hit on them, even though she said she wouldn't. Told me that privately she didn't feel like they were her type, but didn't tell them that because it would hurt their feelings.
She said the top two rumors at school were about her, and fighting, separately. She's scared of what will happen when someone eventually puts the rumors together and decides she needs to be fought. She says she's tough, and she knows she can fight, but she doesn't want to hurt anyone, so she's going to get hurt, and she's always scared someone's going to hurt her at school.
This led to her feeling that she's never safe. It's better when she's with us, but she doesn't feel safe anywhere, and can't explain what would make her feel safe. That other adults tell her to tell them when she feels unsafe, but she never NOT feels unsafe, so it's a joke to make a statement like that to her. She explained that she always feels like there's people around, that she's being followed or watched, and it's worst going and coming back from the bus stop. I personally think this is her paranoia acting up, but it doesn't mean she doesn't feel uncomfortably on display.
From there she admitted how her humor is off putting. She knows it is, and she tries not to laugh at inappropriate times, but it's hard for her. An example she gave was a boy is riding is bicycle and he dies. To her, that's funny. I explained that to others, it's horrifying, not because he died necessarily, but because there's an empty hole where he was for his friends and family. She admitted that's sad, and I told her to focus on that with other people, because no one will understand that she finds death funny.
She mentioned that every day she wakes up, and cries because she didn't die in the night and now has to get up. She doesn't hurt herself to die, she hurts herself because it makes her happy. She likes the pain, and it makes her feel good, she isn't trying to die, but she wants to.
I told her that who she is now is not who she'll be later. That I'm so excited to see what she'll become in five, ten, fifteen, twenty years from now. When she came from the hospital, her mother and I would lay in bed and her mom would talk about what she wanted for MJ, and it boiled down to being happy. MJ snorted and said that would never happen. I began explaining how age changes you in many ways. That who I was as a teen is not who I am now.
At that point she chimed in with how she's recently realized she has a 'Runa-complex'. Basically, she was incredibly let down when she came to live with us and I didn't have long blonde hair, thin waist, and sweet manners. She said that who I was then, shocked her, because I was no longer perfect, and she fought me so much because she couldn't reconcile who I was with who I became. She said I was more immature, and that shocked her too much. She said that recently she's realized I wasn't immature, I was just free.
And she's right. I'm much freer than I ever was before I went to college and got married. It shows in my non bullshit policies. She admitted that even though I'm not perfect anymore, she'll still kill someone if they mess with me, because she still admires me and loves me. It's sweet, but I told her I was fairly sure I could kill them myself, thanks. She laughed and agreed that I'm really strong.
It reminds me of how she insists that I should cosplay as Tsunade from Naruto or Olivier Mira Armstrong from FMA-Brotherhood. She's Armstrong's sister, and she's strong and scary as hell. Every character she feels I'm suited for is blonde, strong, and outspoken. They're called 'fearsome and commanding' for a reason, basically. It's shocking to me that her image of me is so strong, when I don't feel that I am, but I'll just have to keep trying to live up to it and hope it helps her become stronger too.
I'm not going to give an analysis or prognosis of these things she discussed with me, I just wanted a log of it for future reference. She's doing a project for me tomorrow and Friday where every hour she'll write what she's thinking in a notebook and create a 'POV log' for me, to help us and her psychiatrist understand her better.
Speaking of, she doesn't like her medicine, and wants a new one. She's scared of becoming a drug addict and has threatened to throw her medicine away if we up the drug anymore. Her psych lady has suggested upping the dosage before, and with these insecurities popping up again, I'm certain she'll bring it up again. *sigh*
https://youtu.be/clKAdQnwJ7A
So when she went to bed, I strode in, pushed her over, and cuddled up to her back. Asked what's wrong, and refused to budge. For you future parents, this is a wonderful way to get your child to be honest and hear what they think. At first, she insisted nothing was wrong, but when I just laid there and held her closer, she started rambling.
She said that when people find out she likes girls, they look at her different. One group of girls she was friendly with completely stopped talking to her after she told them. They basically said they didn't want to talk to her because they didn't want her to hit on them, even though she said she wouldn't. Told me that privately she didn't feel like they were her type, but didn't tell them that because it would hurt their feelings.
She said the top two rumors at school were about her, and fighting, separately. She's scared of what will happen when someone eventually puts the rumors together and decides she needs to be fought. She says she's tough, and she knows she can fight, but she doesn't want to hurt anyone, so she's going to get hurt, and she's always scared someone's going to hurt her at school.
This led to her feeling that she's never safe. It's better when she's with us, but she doesn't feel safe anywhere, and can't explain what would make her feel safe. That other adults tell her to tell them when she feels unsafe, but she never NOT feels unsafe, so it's a joke to make a statement like that to her. She explained that she always feels like there's people around, that she's being followed or watched, and it's worst going and coming back from the bus stop. I personally think this is her paranoia acting up, but it doesn't mean she doesn't feel uncomfortably on display.
From there she admitted how her humor is off putting. She knows it is, and she tries not to laugh at inappropriate times, but it's hard for her. An example she gave was a boy is riding is bicycle and he dies. To her, that's funny. I explained that to others, it's horrifying, not because he died necessarily, but because there's an empty hole where he was for his friends and family. She admitted that's sad, and I told her to focus on that with other people, because no one will understand that she finds death funny.
She mentioned that every day she wakes up, and cries because she didn't die in the night and now has to get up. She doesn't hurt herself to die, she hurts herself because it makes her happy. She likes the pain, and it makes her feel good, she isn't trying to die, but she wants to.
I told her that who she is now is not who she'll be later. That I'm so excited to see what she'll become in five, ten, fifteen, twenty years from now. When she came from the hospital, her mother and I would lay in bed and her mom would talk about what she wanted for MJ, and it boiled down to being happy. MJ snorted and said that would never happen. I began explaining how age changes you in many ways. That who I was as a teen is not who I am now.
At that point she chimed in with how she's recently realized she has a 'Runa-complex'. Basically, she was incredibly let down when she came to live with us and I didn't have long blonde hair, thin waist, and sweet manners. She said that who I was then, shocked her, because I was no longer perfect, and she fought me so much because she couldn't reconcile who I was with who I became. She said I was more immature, and that shocked her too much. She said that recently she's realized I wasn't immature, I was just free.
And she's right. I'm much freer than I ever was before I went to college and got married. It shows in my non bullshit policies. She admitted that even though I'm not perfect anymore, she'll still kill someone if they mess with me, because she still admires me and loves me. It's sweet, but I told her I was fairly sure I could kill them myself, thanks. She laughed and agreed that I'm really strong.
It reminds me of how she insists that I should cosplay as Tsunade from Naruto or Olivier Mira Armstrong from FMA-Brotherhood. She's Armstrong's sister, and she's strong and scary as hell. Every character she feels I'm suited for is blonde, strong, and outspoken. They're called 'fearsome and commanding' for a reason, basically. It's shocking to me that her image of me is so strong, when I don't feel that I am, but I'll just have to keep trying to live up to it and hope it helps her become stronger too.
I'm not going to give an analysis or prognosis of these things she discussed with me, I just wanted a log of it for future reference. She's doing a project for me tomorrow and Friday where every hour she'll write what she's thinking in a notebook and create a 'POV log' for me, to help us and her psychiatrist understand her better.
Speaking of, she doesn't like her medicine, and wants a new one. She's scared of becoming a drug addict and has threatened to throw her medicine away if we up the drug anymore. Her psych lady has suggested upping the dosage before, and with these insecurities popping up again, I'm certain she'll bring it up again. *sigh*
https://youtu.be/clKAdQnwJ7A
Monday, June 12, 2017
First Day with MJ at work with me- What a parent must be
So it's finally summer! The season children anticipate, and I dread. With MJ's recent antics, we've decided it would be the height of foolishness to let her mind herself for any extended period of time, which means we're taking turns hauling her to work with us. Today was her first day with me, and it was hectic.
My day started at 8 am, getting everyone up and off in the car. We dropped off Hubby, and voom voomed to my massage job for a massage at 9 a.m. We got in about five-ten minutes before 9, got my room set up, dropped kid off in the break room with strict orders to stay there and be quiet, and began my first session. MJ seemed very bored and even disheartened that she basically needed to exist in a small 6 x 6 room for several hours, but there wasn't much else I could do with her. After my first session (very nice athlete, first time working on him), I had a bit of time before the next (20ish minutes) and asked if MJ wanted to help me set my room up (mostly so she could get out of the room for a bit, it would have been faster to change the room by myself to be honest, but I had the time). She agreed with almost worrisome enthusiasm, and I made sure to compliment her when she did something right, and show her how to do something correctly without much caustic annoyance. I felt bad that she lit up so easily over a few easy compliments.
Then I was off to my next session, with my non-English speaking client arriving early. It wasn't until I put hands on him that I remembered him, and the session proceeded fairly smoothly after that, though I never turned him over and stayed on his back the entire session this time and I'm not sure if that's what he wanted, but he doesn't speak enough English for me to ask him, so.... After his session, I invited MJ to my room again, and had her do the things I taught her an hour previously, and showed her a few more things she could help with. She commented that it was like she was an intern, and she seemed delighted about it.
She actually does have potential as a massage therapist, so I think that could be a good compromise for our 'continuing education' option for her. It's a very good skill-set, and will usually mesh VERY well with a student's availability. It'd provide a livable income while she pursues a second job set to supplement it, so I definitely wouldn't be against sending her to massage school.
Then it was back to the small room that was too hot (she and I both were hot in it, but there wasn't anywhere else for her), while I concluded my last session, then rushed off to my next job. The road I normally take to get there was closed off, so I had to a take a longer detour that made me about five minutes late. This job was teaching English to a Japanese family, and she's met the kids before, so it was nice. It was incredibly chaotic, and the mishmash of languages left me a little blindsided, but it was interesting.
There were times I felt indignant that MJ wasn't answering their questions (or even appearing to pay attention), but sometimes that was because it was asked in Japanese and I didn't notice, and sometimes it was just MJ daydreaming or something. I was trying to work out of the work book with H, while HM and T played dominoes with MJ next to us. It was a cacophony of noise and I felt overcrowded, so maybe MJ was feeling that too.
We ended with trying to sing the Star Spangled Banner (H asked me to teach it to her), and then I was rushing off again.
This time we had an appt with her therapists (both at the same time, for the first time). I dropped MJ off at the front and went to park in the parking deck, so she was 10 minutes late, but I was 20 minutes late. Even so, I walked in with her second therapist anyway, so I didn't miss anything. Then the one I walked in with asked me and the other therapist to leave so she could check in privately with MJ. Neither of them told me what was discussed, and I'm just leaving it alone. I don't even want to know, really.
While they were doing that, I spoke with the other therapist about MJ's wish to be adopted. She suggested we give her a positive response, but not a 'Yes, we'll adopt you,' more like a 'How about in X months, if you still want it, we'll pursue it.' On the one hand, I like this approach, and want to suggest when she turns 15 (so a year and a half), if she still wants it we'll do it. Actually, thinking about it, maybe next summer would be best. She could change her name over the summer and start high school as a K instead of an M if that's what she really wants.
On the other hand, I have this niggling feeling that we've had this conversation with her before, and told her something like that, and she agreed to it, but it was so long ago, I can't even recall about when this topic came up. I don't want to give her this same wishy washy 'In the future,' or 'One day' thing over and over. It's not fair to her.
So in Hubby's recent post, he's stated that he believes it's too late for her, and he sometimes wants to give her up. I've thought about it and thought about it, and my response is this: For months and years, he has repeatedly told me that as a mother, it's my job to nag her into cleaning things to my satisfaction, to nag her to do better at this, to do that correctly, etc. I don't agree with that and I'll explain why in a little bit, but it's certainly true that as parents, we have a job. I believe this job is: When a child can't believe in themselves, the parent has to believe for them. When a child doubts, the parent has to be adamant. When a child fears, the parents must be brave. Our job right now in her most turbulent years is to believe in her, encourage her, and accept her. If she ends up a prostitute, so be it, I'll find some way to continue to love and support her anyway.
Right now, we have to look at her and not see a failure, but a work in progress. No story is set in stone until you carve it in yourself. I believe she has great potential. She looks around and tries to see what could be improved. She looks at us, and sees the good and bad. As hormone driven, brain-rattled teen, she's gonna spew the bad more than the good. The improvements she wants will come out as complaints right now, and the attitude is gonna drive us crazy, but she's a good kid. She's kind, and loving, and wants to help others enough that it hurts her when she can't. Please don't be blinded by her crazy, by her biomom, or by her barriers. As long as I see hope in her eyes, I will maintain hope in mine. That's my response to it being 'too late' for her. It is never too late to make a change.
In response to the nagging mother statements hubby has made, I already verbally responded to him. This is kind of a 'just so you remember' moment. I believe what I told him boiled down to this: I can nag and whine and bitch and verbally brow beat her into doing things how I want them done. She'll have fits, she'll cry, we'll fight, and we'll make up. But nagging makes me into someone I hate, and I don't want to hate myself. Nagging will get the job done at the cost of self-hate, increased anger between everyone, and long, simmering resentment sometimes. What will we get out of it? A clean house to come home to. But that clean house we want? Together, we can clean the house properly and have everything how we want it in two hours. Why would I go the path of self hate for something we can fix in a few hours of working together? When the house needs to be clean (as it needed to be this weekend), we can do it together. When it doesn't, we'll let her continue to practice cleaning until she gets so proficient at it that I don't have complaints anymore. Just as she's a work in progress, so are we. Let us love and focus on important things, rather than immaterial things such as the level of cleanliness we live in regularly.
....This turned out really long. Sorry?
I think this song applies pretty well to the topic at hand:
This song is pretty hilarious to me, and I like it, but now I know it's JB, I'm a little less amused at it:
I just like this song, period, and it's a pretty recent one:
This song makes me think of MJ sometimes, but I also find myself impressed by the honesty and the emotion in the song. Makes me respect the artist, even as I want to pat him on the back:
This song is so cute and risque at the same time, I love it now. It's also catchy and easy to sing:
My day started at 8 am, getting everyone up and off in the car. We dropped off Hubby, and voom voomed to my massage job for a massage at 9 a.m. We got in about five-ten minutes before 9, got my room set up, dropped kid off in the break room with strict orders to stay there and be quiet, and began my first session. MJ seemed very bored and even disheartened that she basically needed to exist in a small 6 x 6 room for several hours, but there wasn't much else I could do with her. After my first session (very nice athlete, first time working on him), I had a bit of time before the next (20ish minutes) and asked if MJ wanted to help me set my room up (mostly so she could get out of the room for a bit, it would have been faster to change the room by myself to be honest, but I had the time). She agreed with almost worrisome enthusiasm, and I made sure to compliment her when she did something right, and show her how to do something correctly without much caustic annoyance. I felt bad that she lit up so easily over a few easy compliments.
Then I was off to my next session, with my non-English speaking client arriving early. It wasn't until I put hands on him that I remembered him, and the session proceeded fairly smoothly after that, though I never turned him over and stayed on his back the entire session this time and I'm not sure if that's what he wanted, but he doesn't speak enough English for me to ask him, so.... After his session, I invited MJ to my room again, and had her do the things I taught her an hour previously, and showed her a few more things she could help with. She commented that it was like she was an intern, and she seemed delighted about it.
She actually does have potential as a massage therapist, so I think that could be a good compromise for our 'continuing education' option for her. It's a very good skill-set, and will usually mesh VERY well with a student's availability. It'd provide a livable income while she pursues a second job set to supplement it, so I definitely wouldn't be against sending her to massage school.
Then it was back to the small room that was too hot (she and I both were hot in it, but there wasn't anywhere else for her), while I concluded my last session, then rushed off to my next job. The road I normally take to get there was closed off, so I had to a take a longer detour that made me about five minutes late. This job was teaching English to a Japanese family, and she's met the kids before, so it was nice. It was incredibly chaotic, and the mishmash of languages left me a little blindsided, but it was interesting.
There were times I felt indignant that MJ wasn't answering their questions (or even appearing to pay attention), but sometimes that was because it was asked in Japanese and I didn't notice, and sometimes it was just MJ daydreaming or something. I was trying to work out of the work book with H, while HM and T played dominoes with MJ next to us. It was a cacophony of noise and I felt overcrowded, so maybe MJ was feeling that too.
We ended with trying to sing the Star Spangled Banner (H asked me to teach it to her), and then I was rushing off again.
This time we had an appt with her therapists (both at the same time, for the first time). I dropped MJ off at the front and went to park in the parking deck, so she was 10 minutes late, but I was 20 minutes late. Even so, I walked in with her second therapist anyway, so I didn't miss anything. Then the one I walked in with asked me and the other therapist to leave so she could check in privately with MJ. Neither of them told me what was discussed, and I'm just leaving it alone. I don't even want to know, really.
While they were doing that, I spoke with the other therapist about MJ's wish to be adopted. She suggested we give her a positive response, but not a 'Yes, we'll adopt you,' more like a 'How about in X months, if you still want it, we'll pursue it.' On the one hand, I like this approach, and want to suggest when she turns 15 (so a year and a half), if she still wants it we'll do it. Actually, thinking about it, maybe next summer would be best. She could change her name over the summer and start high school as a K instead of an M if that's what she really wants.
On the other hand, I have this niggling feeling that we've had this conversation with her before, and told her something like that, and she agreed to it, but it was so long ago, I can't even recall about when this topic came up. I don't want to give her this same wishy washy 'In the future,' or 'One day' thing over and over. It's not fair to her.
So in Hubby's recent post, he's stated that he believes it's too late for her, and he sometimes wants to give her up. I've thought about it and thought about it, and my response is this: For months and years, he has repeatedly told me that as a mother, it's my job to nag her into cleaning things to my satisfaction, to nag her to do better at this, to do that correctly, etc. I don't agree with that and I'll explain why in a little bit, but it's certainly true that as parents, we have a job. I believe this job is: When a child can't believe in themselves, the parent has to believe for them. When a child doubts, the parent has to be adamant. When a child fears, the parents must be brave. Our job right now in her most turbulent years is to believe in her, encourage her, and accept her. If she ends up a prostitute, so be it, I'll find some way to continue to love and support her anyway.
Right now, we have to look at her and not see a failure, but a work in progress. No story is set in stone until you carve it in yourself. I believe she has great potential. She looks around and tries to see what could be improved. She looks at us, and sees the good and bad. As hormone driven, brain-rattled teen, she's gonna spew the bad more than the good. The improvements she wants will come out as complaints right now, and the attitude is gonna drive us crazy, but she's a good kid. She's kind, and loving, and wants to help others enough that it hurts her when she can't. Please don't be blinded by her crazy, by her biomom, or by her barriers. As long as I see hope in her eyes, I will maintain hope in mine. That's my response to it being 'too late' for her. It is never too late to make a change.
In response to the nagging mother statements hubby has made, I already verbally responded to him. This is kind of a 'just so you remember' moment. I believe what I told him boiled down to this: I can nag and whine and bitch and verbally brow beat her into doing things how I want them done. She'll have fits, she'll cry, we'll fight, and we'll make up. But nagging makes me into someone I hate, and I don't want to hate myself. Nagging will get the job done at the cost of self-hate, increased anger between everyone, and long, simmering resentment sometimes. What will we get out of it? A clean house to come home to. But that clean house we want? Together, we can clean the house properly and have everything how we want it in two hours. Why would I go the path of self hate for something we can fix in a few hours of working together? When the house needs to be clean (as it needed to be this weekend), we can do it together. When it doesn't, we'll let her continue to practice cleaning until she gets so proficient at it that I don't have complaints anymore. Just as she's a work in progress, so are we. Let us love and focus on important things, rather than immaterial things such as the level of cleanliness we live in regularly.
....This turned out really long. Sorry?
I think this song applies pretty well to the topic at hand:
This song is pretty hilarious to me, and I like it, but now I know it's JB, I'm a little less amused at it:
I just like this song, period, and it's a pretty recent one:
This song makes me think of MJ sometimes, but I also find myself impressed by the honesty and the emotion in the song. Makes me respect the artist, even as I want to pat him on the back:
This song is so cute and risque at the same time, I love it now. It's also catchy and easy to sing:
Sunday, May 21, 2017
Tethered
Without MJ here, its given me a lot of time for philosophical thought. This has led to a realization. I don't like being tethered physically, or emotionally unless I do the wrapping. Stand near and don't reach for me? I'll wrap around you happily. Try to tie yourself to me or get me to blatantly attach myself to you? I'll drift away until you stop.
This is relevant because Hubby is aware enough to not reach for me too often, or I pull away. He often sits near and just waits. I'll wrap my hands/legs/thigh/etc around him loosely and go on. If he grabs me though, I'll accept it for a minute or two but after that I'm squirming to be released. Not because I lack love, but because the constraint eats away my contentment until I'm incredibly uncomfortable.
MJ on the other hand grasps for me whenever she can. It's difficult to not instinctively shy away from her. I dont want to be grabbed and restrained and held hostage. She hasnt learned to let me come to her though. She's always so desperate for attention that she feels neglected and needy if someone isn't holding her, laughing with her, engaging constantly with her. I genuinely cant do it. In my mind, she's too old to need constant care like that, and even babies sleep and let you be for short periods. MJ feels that our job is to entertain and engage her. Its not.
Our job is to love and provide for her. The attention is extra, and I can handle maybe (at most) an hour before I start itching to get away. Thats not to say I can't spend hours and hours with someone; I can. Just not with constant need for me to look at them, be looked at, be touched, and be touching them. I want to sometimes, but I can't. I need to explain this to her soon. I think it'll help our relationship.
This is relevant because Hubby is aware enough to not reach for me too often, or I pull away. He often sits near and just waits. I'll wrap my hands/legs/thigh/etc around him loosely and go on. If he grabs me though, I'll accept it for a minute or two but after that I'm squirming to be released. Not because I lack love, but because the constraint eats away my contentment until I'm incredibly uncomfortable.
MJ on the other hand grasps for me whenever she can. It's difficult to not instinctively shy away from her. I dont want to be grabbed and restrained and held hostage. She hasnt learned to let me come to her though. She's always so desperate for attention that she feels neglected and needy if someone isn't holding her, laughing with her, engaging constantly with her. I genuinely cant do it. In my mind, she's too old to need constant care like that, and even babies sleep and let you be for short periods. MJ feels that our job is to entertain and engage her. Its not.
Our job is to love and provide for her. The attention is extra, and I can handle maybe (at most) an hour before I start itching to get away. Thats not to say I can't spend hours and hours with someone; I can. Just not with constant need for me to look at them, be looked at, be touched, and be touching them. I want to sometimes, but I can't. I need to explain this to her soon. I think it'll help our relationship.
Saturday, May 13, 2017
MJ is in ER by her choices
Maybe that sounds a little harsh, it's just meant to be accurate.
MJ tried to kill herself Wednesday night in a new way. She used all 230 pumps of her inhaler at once. Then regretted the decision and frantically tried to get help (via emails) because she didn't have a phone. Her heart rate sky-rocketed (140+), her body started shaking uncontrollably, and she began to devolve into a panic attack and couldn't breathe.
I know this because she started pumping at 9 (according to her), and we came home at 9:07 because I got her 'I feel suicide. Don't know why.' (Legit, that's all she sent) email and came straight home instead of stopping for dinner like I'd planned. Hubby was with me because he had a last minute tutoring session. This is kinda a recap of Hubby's blog, I think. Not sure.
Anyway, we get home, and I'm not taking it overly seriously because I never heard you could die from that inhaler. 'Course, it's never occured to me to take all the doses at once either, and I thought it was a placebo inhaler. But I pull her out of her panic attack (I must say, I'm getting ridiculously good at that), calm her down, and ask Hubby to see if we need to take any actions about her inhaler usage. He reports back that he needs to call poison control cause yeah, she could die.
I'm just kinda like '.....hubby say wut.....?' and feign calm, half disbelieving. He hands the phone over to me so I can describe her symptoms, and poison control dude is like, where's your nearest ER with a pediatric division? I'm pretty much in shock, like 'Uh, you tell me, cause I'm out of my element now.'
So he gets us checked into DUER, and I'm herding us all out of the door. I'd never unpacked anything, so just grabbed my purse, found clothes for MJ and started herding. As MJ and I walk out of the house, she quietly and sincerely apologizes. I just can't even process it fully then, but tell her not to worry about that right now. So we drive there (7 minutes, where I remind MJ to keep breathing, and quietly panic because I don't know what to do), go down the wrong road, I ask for directions, my voice breaks, I start quietly losing it, but have to stay steady for MJ, find the right place, and take her in.
She's still clinging to my blanket for comfort, legs shaking something awful, and we get hung up at the metal detector because somehow my nail clippers and measuring tape looks like a knife. Get sorted, checked in, and I'm just beginning to contemplate the vending machine food (remember, haven't eaten since 5) when they call her back. That's when I hit my 'Oh shit' level.
See, I think everyone knows the rule of the ER that says the more serious cases go back more quickly. Every minute we waited? Would have been a minute longer for me to calm down. Nope. Called back, MJ doesn't want to speak, so I have to, my voice is breaking, tears are leaking, Hubby is still dropping off the car, and I'm doing everything I can to keep MJ from seeing that I'm crying. Nurse man assures me it's not fatal, we just need to calm her heart rate, take some routine tests, no problem.
Door knocks, and he looks at me, just as startled. ''Are you expecting anyone?" I pause, feeling like a saviour has come. "My husband." so he tells me to open the door, and Hubby comes in and for a minute I feel so relieved, I just wanna drop into his arms and cry and let him answer the questions, but he sits down quickly and angrily and I realize: Oh. MJ could see if I cry, and he's not in a fit state to handle this either. Fuck.
So I move behind both of them to discreetly (not discreet enough) wipe my eyes and continue to plow forward. MJ's eyes follow me, and she asks if I'm crying, and I blather some bullshit that I don't remember. We get checked into a room, and then wait. An hour or so later, they assure us she's going to be fine, but needs an injection of K, two hours later, psych eval lady comes in and talks to MJ alone for a long time.
During this, Hubby goes to find food for me (It's after midnight now, not sure anymore), I try to make small talk with MJ's 'minder', fail that, and just observe the area around me. Hubby comes back, I eat a few bites, and the psych eval lady comes back out. Her face is fairly set, but looks a little unsure. She asks a few personal questions, as I answer I see her face firm up in resolve, and she apologetically announces that she has to commit MJ.
My brain loses a surprising amount of comprehension past that point. I remember vividly holding myself back from screaming at her and demanding she give her back give her back don't take her, oh god, no no no no nooooo. I turn to Hubby, hoping he can ask all the logistical questions while I fight for rational thought, and try my best to stop crying and calm down.
I fail completely. Like, I'm not sure I've ever lost my composure so completely in public before. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, sobs choked out instead. My voice wouldn't steady, the pain in my heart stabbed every time I tried to think, and I'm just lost.
Eventually, I calm down enough to ask Hubby about what she said, he kind of accusingly/jokingly say that I scared her off, and he wasn't able to get much info. I need information, I can't go back in there until I've calmed down, and I want my mom. Doesn't seem to matter how old you get, when you encounter something utterly alien to yourself, you always want to contact the person in your life that has always made things make sense for you. So even though it was really late at night, I called her.
Surprisingly, she didn't even sound mad, just incredulous that I would call. My voice fails me, so I ask/beg Hubby to explain. He explains, I try to talk, listen instead for a bit, try to talk, fail again, and have to have Hubby rescue me. Mom explains things that I can't believe. That they're keeping her from us entirely until she's been to a psych ward, that we won't be able to contact MJ for 72 hours, that they may ban us from seeing her until we're not a strain on her psych. My mind is just chanting 'Nonononoyourewrongyouhavetobeyouresowrongyoudon'tknownonononono' and I promise to call her if I need her. She tells me to call that night if I need to. I'm truly surprised.
Hubby tries to force me to eat, but I'm choking on previously appetizing (a little) food, and can't even really imagine eating at the moment. I decide I need to clean up, so I go to the bathroom, and we go to face MJ. We're basically waiting til 3 a.m., asking for a psych eval person to come finish explaining what happens now, while the airhead nurse keeps 'forgetting' us. MJ gets treated, Hubby gets mad enough to go talk to the front desk, where we find out that we really can't remove MJ, we could have left hours ago, and I have to be up in 5-6 hours. Lovely.
We tell MJ goodnight, head home, try to talk to each other but it feels disjointed and wrong, and we go to bed (I shower alone, something I've been doing alot more often lately. I hates it). We both toss and turn, I don't think Hubby's asleep but he could be so exhausted he's not snoring, so I turn away and start crying quietly because I can't stop, and Hubby rolls over to hug me.
I think we maybe got a total of 4 hours of sleep between the two of us that night, and Hubby chooses to go to work instead of taking the day off like he'd previously planned. I take him to work, go to work myself, and just continue working. Most music set me off, looking at things I think MJ might like sets me off, my clients set me off. I am honestly crying for no reason, constantly.
At some point between Wednesday night and today, I realized I was grieving. And grieving BADLY. It felt like my soul was bleeding out. Being in the house felt wrong, everything felt wrong, words in my mouth felt like chalk and ash and I tried so hard to talk to Hubby, but felt blocked by his anger. He wasn't mad at me, but the situation, and I don't blame him for his reaction, but it felt like a barrier to really understanding and being understood. I was lonely and grieving and didn't want to bother him with this incessant crying that he seemed to be mocking me for. I again, don't think he was purposely doing so, but I also don't think I was seeing something that was completely absent.
So I called my mom. Often, and often crying. Often with nothing important, just to cry to someone. Finally today she gave me logical reasons why they would not try to keep her permanently. I was terrified they would decide we couldn't give her the home and care she needs and take her away. I was so scared they would find us unfit parents, I had a nightmare that I got pregnant and they took our child from us, saying we'd make them commit suicide anyway, so they needed to take the baby for it's safety.
Again, I completely realize this isn't logical, but I was trapped in a spiral of thoughts like this, thinking I was losing my baby.
Speaking of, this song came on, and I LOST it yesterday:
Back to my spiral: I did NOT blame myself for MJ's actions. Logically, I did everything a parent should in the situation we came home to. I did NOT blame Hubby for accepting a last minute tutoring session, giving MJ her opportunity. This was child's choice entirely, hence my title. I just felt that it didn't matter, we'd done everything we were supposed to, and they still took her away so easily. Why would they ever give her back now that they had her?
Then Mom came bull-dozing in with logic that I understood, and assurances based on human cruelty, and that was enough to help me stabilize myself. The therapist's assurance that this wouldn't be more than a week or two was the additional help I needed to finally push through. I still lapse a bit here and there, I'm insecure and scared, and worried, but I'm not a sobbing mess. I can think logically and reason and even laugh again.
So now we're managing together. Hubby called our best friend and talked through his emotions, so now we're both able to connect with each other again and we're back to functioning well. It's a waiting game, but it's one I'm more understanding of now.
Thanks for reading!!
MJ tried to kill herself Wednesday night in a new way. She used all 230 pumps of her inhaler at once. Then regretted the decision and frantically tried to get help (via emails) because she didn't have a phone. Her heart rate sky-rocketed (140+), her body started shaking uncontrollably, and she began to devolve into a panic attack and couldn't breathe.
I know this because she started pumping at 9 (according to her), and we came home at 9:07 because I got her 'I feel suicide. Don't know why.' (Legit, that's all she sent) email and came straight home instead of stopping for dinner like I'd planned. Hubby was with me because he had a last minute tutoring session. This is kinda a recap of Hubby's blog, I think. Not sure.
Anyway, we get home, and I'm not taking it overly seriously because I never heard you could die from that inhaler. 'Course, it's never occured to me to take all the doses at once either, and I thought it was a placebo inhaler. But I pull her out of her panic attack (I must say, I'm getting ridiculously good at that), calm her down, and ask Hubby to see if we need to take any actions about her inhaler usage. He reports back that he needs to call poison control cause yeah, she could die.
I'm just kinda like '.....hubby say wut.....?' and feign calm, half disbelieving. He hands the phone over to me so I can describe her symptoms, and poison control dude is like, where's your nearest ER with a pediatric division? I'm pretty much in shock, like 'Uh, you tell me, cause I'm out of my element now.'
So he gets us checked into DUER, and I'm herding us all out of the door. I'd never unpacked anything, so just grabbed my purse, found clothes for MJ and started herding. As MJ and I walk out of the house, she quietly and sincerely apologizes. I just can't even process it fully then, but tell her not to worry about that right now. So we drive there (7 minutes, where I remind MJ to keep breathing, and quietly panic because I don't know what to do), go down the wrong road, I ask for directions, my voice breaks, I start quietly losing it, but have to stay steady for MJ, find the right place, and take her in.
She's still clinging to my blanket for comfort, legs shaking something awful, and we get hung up at the metal detector because somehow my nail clippers and measuring tape looks like a knife. Get sorted, checked in, and I'm just beginning to contemplate the vending machine food (remember, haven't eaten since 5) when they call her back. That's when I hit my 'Oh shit' level.
See, I think everyone knows the rule of the ER that says the more serious cases go back more quickly. Every minute we waited? Would have been a minute longer for me to calm down. Nope. Called back, MJ doesn't want to speak, so I have to, my voice is breaking, tears are leaking, Hubby is still dropping off the car, and I'm doing everything I can to keep MJ from seeing that I'm crying. Nurse man assures me it's not fatal, we just need to calm her heart rate, take some routine tests, no problem.
Door knocks, and he looks at me, just as startled. ''Are you expecting anyone?" I pause, feeling like a saviour has come. "My husband." so he tells me to open the door, and Hubby comes in and for a minute I feel so relieved, I just wanna drop into his arms and cry and let him answer the questions, but he sits down quickly and angrily and I realize: Oh. MJ could see if I cry, and he's not in a fit state to handle this either. Fuck.
So I move behind both of them to discreetly (not discreet enough) wipe my eyes and continue to plow forward. MJ's eyes follow me, and she asks if I'm crying, and I blather some bullshit that I don't remember. We get checked into a room, and then wait. An hour or so later, they assure us she's going to be fine, but needs an injection of K, two hours later, psych eval lady comes in and talks to MJ alone for a long time.
During this, Hubby goes to find food for me (It's after midnight now, not sure anymore), I try to make small talk with MJ's 'minder', fail that, and just observe the area around me. Hubby comes back, I eat a few bites, and the psych eval lady comes back out. Her face is fairly set, but looks a little unsure. She asks a few personal questions, as I answer I see her face firm up in resolve, and she apologetically announces that she has to commit MJ.
My brain loses a surprising amount of comprehension past that point. I remember vividly holding myself back from screaming at her and demanding she give her back give her back don't take her, oh god, no no no no nooooo. I turn to Hubby, hoping he can ask all the logistical questions while I fight for rational thought, and try my best to stop crying and calm down.
I fail completely. Like, I'm not sure I've ever lost my composure so completely in public before. Every time I opened my mouth to speak, sobs choked out instead. My voice wouldn't steady, the pain in my heart stabbed every time I tried to think, and I'm just lost.
Eventually, I calm down enough to ask Hubby about what she said, he kind of accusingly/jokingly say that I scared her off, and he wasn't able to get much info. I need information, I can't go back in there until I've calmed down, and I want my mom. Doesn't seem to matter how old you get, when you encounter something utterly alien to yourself, you always want to contact the person in your life that has always made things make sense for you. So even though it was really late at night, I called her.
Surprisingly, she didn't even sound mad, just incredulous that I would call. My voice fails me, so I ask/beg Hubby to explain. He explains, I try to talk, listen instead for a bit, try to talk, fail again, and have to have Hubby rescue me. Mom explains things that I can't believe. That they're keeping her from us entirely until she's been to a psych ward, that we won't be able to contact MJ for 72 hours, that they may ban us from seeing her until we're not a strain on her psych. My mind is just chanting 'Nonononoyourewrongyouhavetobeyouresowrongyoudon'tknownonononono' and I promise to call her if I need her. She tells me to call that night if I need to. I'm truly surprised.
Hubby tries to force me to eat, but I'm choking on previously appetizing (a little) food, and can't even really imagine eating at the moment. I decide I need to clean up, so I go to the bathroom, and we go to face MJ. We're basically waiting til 3 a.m., asking for a psych eval person to come finish explaining what happens now, while the airhead nurse keeps 'forgetting' us. MJ gets treated, Hubby gets mad enough to go talk to the front desk, where we find out that we really can't remove MJ, we could have left hours ago, and I have to be up in 5-6 hours. Lovely.
We tell MJ goodnight, head home, try to talk to each other but it feels disjointed and wrong, and we go to bed (I shower alone, something I've been doing alot more often lately. I hates it). We both toss and turn, I don't think Hubby's asleep but he could be so exhausted he's not snoring, so I turn away and start crying quietly because I can't stop, and Hubby rolls over to hug me.
I think we maybe got a total of 4 hours of sleep between the two of us that night, and Hubby chooses to go to work instead of taking the day off like he'd previously planned. I take him to work, go to work myself, and just continue working. Most music set me off, looking at things I think MJ might like sets me off, my clients set me off. I am honestly crying for no reason, constantly.
At some point between Wednesday night and today, I realized I was grieving. And grieving BADLY. It felt like my soul was bleeding out. Being in the house felt wrong, everything felt wrong, words in my mouth felt like chalk and ash and I tried so hard to talk to Hubby, but felt blocked by his anger. He wasn't mad at me, but the situation, and I don't blame him for his reaction, but it felt like a barrier to really understanding and being understood. I was lonely and grieving and didn't want to bother him with this incessant crying that he seemed to be mocking me for. I again, don't think he was purposely doing so, but I also don't think I was seeing something that was completely absent.
So I called my mom. Often, and often crying. Often with nothing important, just to cry to someone. Finally today she gave me logical reasons why they would not try to keep her permanently. I was terrified they would decide we couldn't give her the home and care she needs and take her away. I was so scared they would find us unfit parents, I had a nightmare that I got pregnant and they took our child from us, saying we'd make them commit suicide anyway, so they needed to take the baby for it's safety.
Again, I completely realize this isn't logical, but I was trapped in a spiral of thoughts like this, thinking I was losing my baby.
Speaking of, this song came on, and I LOST it yesterday:
Back to my spiral: I did NOT blame myself for MJ's actions. Logically, I did everything a parent should in the situation we came home to. I did NOT blame Hubby for accepting a last minute tutoring session, giving MJ her opportunity. This was child's choice entirely, hence my title. I just felt that it didn't matter, we'd done everything we were supposed to, and they still took her away so easily. Why would they ever give her back now that they had her?
Then Mom came bull-dozing in with logic that I understood, and assurances based on human cruelty, and that was enough to help me stabilize myself. The therapist's assurance that this wouldn't be more than a week or two was the additional help I needed to finally push through. I still lapse a bit here and there, I'm insecure and scared, and worried, but I'm not a sobbing mess. I can think logically and reason and even laugh again.
So now we're managing together. Hubby called our best friend and talked through his emotions, so now we're both able to connect with each other again and we're back to functioning well. It's a waiting game, but it's one I'm more understanding of now.
Thanks for reading!!
Saturday, April 22, 2017
The crazy train's name is MJ. We were planning on going to the movie Lego Batman because Kaydikins and MJ both said they wanted to see it. Problem was that they were both behaving like brats and being annoying in general during the 30 minute car ride there. Kaydikins was talking about how he was going to go look for guns to kill people with. He said something else bad I don't quite remember, but Runa joked and said to MJ "See MJ, look at how you are influencing him" but MJ took it seriously. Then when Runa explained that it was a joke, MJ said "OK then" but in a "I'm right, you're wrong" kind of tone that Runa took to be disrespectful. One thing led to another and MJ escalated the situation by not being quiet when Runa told her to be. So since I had already seen the movie and MJ was not improving her behavior, we decided that I would take her back to Runa's mom's house. She had a fit and screamed multiple things. Most of the things she screamed were about how it wasn't her fault and she did nothing wrong and how she had been trying really hard to behave well so that Kaydikins would have someone to look up to (which I had to restrain a laugh at because she was being so obnoxious at that point).
I took her back home myself and she tried her best to rant to me and get me to be mad. She started off with an unreasonable request that I take her back to our house (two hours away). I told her no a couple times and she asked why and I told her I'm the driver and I'm not willing to drive two hours there and back. She said that she thought Runa had overreacted and that she was trying to pretend to not be too enthusiastic about the movie (it didn't really make sense) and she asked why every time she tried to do something right she messed up. She said at one point that she hates her entire family. She asked me why I ever even married Runa. I told her Runa was a good person. She said that no she wasn't, she just thinks she is. She said she hated Runa's mom and always hates coming to her house and I was just like... "I'm not going to defend what she said when she called your hair ugly and stuff when you cut it, but to me that seems like a silly thing to hold a grudge over." Then she said that she hated Runa's mom because she had Cin, Kris, and Runa and that all the stuff that happened is basically her fault because she decided to get with a bunch of different men. My response was that it was pointless to play the blame game since she would have to get mad at basically all of her ancestors, and their ancestors before them. She took a shot at me and said that I "stole Runa from the family" because whenever we got married Runa stopped spending time with her. I didn't really dignify that with a response because she was just spewing out random crap at that point. All I said was no, I didn't. She said she wasn't good at anything and would turn out just like her mom. And then of course she argued with me about how she wasn't good at dancing or playing softball and that she doesn't actually enjoy playing softball, that it was just something for her to get through. That there wasn't really a point to her life besides playing softball and that she wasn't even good at it.
She piled on Kaydikins as well. Alot of the stuff she said made it clear that she thought that her and Kaydikins should be held to the same standard. She said that Kaydikins did this or said this but that she was held to an unfair higher standard. Like she said he used the words nigger, cunt, and other stuff and that she knew if she said things like that we would punish her severely. I pointed out that she was 13 and he was 8, so he doesn't know the meaning behind the words but she should know better. She said that he had alot more issues than she thought he did and that he had told her he wanted to kill himself. And that she didn't want him to like her or be around her because she wasn't a good example.
Runa's Addition: Of course after the movie, Hubby came to pick us up, and Kaydikins and I weren't able to really enjoy the movie because we both felt like MJ should be there with us, but we can't reward bad behaviour just because we want to have her with us. I had to talk to Kaydikins multiple times about how we can't indulge MJ or it will spoil her and she won't learn to behave better, but I think Kaydikins kinda got the point. We went to Ross's, 2nd and Charles, and Walgreens shopping after the movie, which Mum said made MJ really mad (quietly) about. Eventually MJ called us (we were heading home by that point) asking if we'd be coming home soon, since she wasn't allowed to go out. I told her she wasn't allowed to go play with her friends because she'd behaved so badly in the car, so she was bored at home by herself.
When we got home, we ate soup (Mommy's homemade soup! YAY!), and then got Mom's car ready to be washed and cleaned by MJ because she lost a bet with me a few days ago. We eased up because originally she was supposed to do it by herself, but if she did, it'd be sloppy and take forever and we'd never get to play water balloons with the kids. So the four of us played and washed and worked and eventually did a good enough job, and we got the water balloons filled, but the water balloons are rather difficult to pop.
This created it's own problems which eventually escalated into one of the worst fits MJ has had this year. She and Kaydikins exasperated each other to the point that when Kaydikins got the last water spray in as he went inside, MJ ended up screaming about how he's the reason everything goes wrong. When I corrected her, that it's her attitude ruining everything, she screamed 'Well maybe that's because I shouldn't be here!!' and tried to go inside. Mom kicked her back out because she wasn't ready for her (she was wet, and the AC would have gotten her sick, and Kaydikins was still bathing) so we told her she's required to pick up all the water balloon remains for screaming at me for the third time today.
Of course this made her angry, and she came up to me with her fists clenched, and threatened to take me down. I looked her in the eye and told her she'd be the one going down, but if she'd like, please continue to come at me. She turned around and walked to the hose for the water balloons. As I started to say she didn't need to pick that up, she started trying to break it, so I went to take it from her. She continued to play keep away until Hubby finally came to help me, at which point she threw it rather than give it to us.
I tried to restrain her as she started to thrash (I didn't realize it then, but she was trying to get a good angle to kick me) but she was slippery, and so was I, so when she went to hit me, I caught her arms, and dropped her to the ground, then sat on her lightly to keep her from getting her legs in my crotch area. When she screamed she couldn't breathe, I lightened the pressure a bit, but refused to release her because she admitted she was going to continue trying to hurt me, and she wouldn't calm down.
She spewed a lot of shit about how I'm a liar because I said I don't get jealous (this goes back to a long time ago, when we had a girls day out and I told her jealousy would destroy her life) and since I'm human, jealousy happens. I think she must have been chewing over my words for a long time and found she couldn't restrain her jealousy, so doesn't believe someone else can (or else is ironically jealous that I'm not jealous of others).
There were other things, like screaming that she wishes I was her mother and not that big fat hoe that is. I genuinely was fighting to keep her from thrashing and missed parts of it (Hubby heard that part) and thought she was calling me a big fat hoe. I said something to the effect of 'I'm sorry you think I'm a ho, but that's your opinion,' and she screamed 'Not you!! Her!!' and I'm fighting to keep hold of her hands so she can't punch at me again, and I'm just like 'Oh.' I can't really argue that opinion of her mother right now, so okay.
At one point, I warned her that if she couldn't calm down, I would press her diaphragm til she passed out to get her to stop screaming, it was that bad. After that, she was down to spewing venom with her words, but not her voice. She also stopped trying to punch me around then. I could finally let her arms go, which was great because I was dizzy from leaning over like that.
I've prolly damaged my mom's reputation in the neighborhood, considering we were in the front yard, with me holding down a screaming 13 yr old. Several people walked or drove by during this, during sunset on a Saturday night. Mom was worried police would be called on us, but I wouldn't have cared. I repeatedly told MJ I wouldn't let her go until she calmed down. Eventually she was down to just crying and asking to go home. She was worried Kaydikins would hate her, and didn't want to go inside. Once I got her to go inside, she didn't want to be alone during her shower, so asked me to stay. I ended up getting in the shower right after her, so we had a fairly non-awkward 'we're both naked' moment, not counting the one when she couldn't get her hips to stop itching, and I ended up washing her hips, back, shoulders, etc for her. She and I are allergic to grass, so it's got to be cleaned off thoroughly, especially her, since she was held down in the grass for so long.
During her shower, she asked me why she was like this, why she couldn't be good, and why she couldn't just be what she wanted to be. She talked about how she's been trying so hard to change and she can't and she hated herself so much and why couldn't she just die. It's been an interesting evening. I'm exhausted and tired and just kind of ready to throw in the towel for the night.
I took her back home myself and she tried her best to rant to me and get me to be mad. She started off with an unreasonable request that I take her back to our house (two hours away). I told her no a couple times and she asked why and I told her I'm the driver and I'm not willing to drive two hours there and back. She said that she thought Runa had overreacted and that she was trying to pretend to not be too enthusiastic about the movie (it didn't really make sense) and she asked why every time she tried to do something right she messed up. She said at one point that she hates her entire family. She asked me why I ever even married Runa. I told her Runa was a good person. She said that no she wasn't, she just thinks she is. She said she hated Runa's mom and always hates coming to her house and I was just like... "I'm not going to defend what she said when she called your hair ugly and stuff when you cut it, but to me that seems like a silly thing to hold a grudge over." Then she said that she hated Runa's mom because she had Cin, Kris, and Runa and that all the stuff that happened is basically her fault because she decided to get with a bunch of different men. My response was that it was pointless to play the blame game since she would have to get mad at basically all of her ancestors, and their ancestors before them. She took a shot at me and said that I "stole Runa from the family" because whenever we got married Runa stopped spending time with her. I didn't really dignify that with a response because she was just spewing out random crap at that point. All I said was no, I didn't. She said she wasn't good at anything and would turn out just like her mom. And then of course she argued with me about how she wasn't good at dancing or playing softball and that she doesn't actually enjoy playing softball, that it was just something for her to get through. That there wasn't really a point to her life besides playing softball and that she wasn't even good at it.
She piled on Kaydikins as well. Alot of the stuff she said made it clear that she thought that her and Kaydikins should be held to the same standard. She said that Kaydikins did this or said this but that she was held to an unfair higher standard. Like she said he used the words nigger, cunt, and other stuff and that she knew if she said things like that we would punish her severely. I pointed out that she was 13 and he was 8, so he doesn't know the meaning behind the words but she should know better. She said that he had alot more issues than she thought he did and that he had told her he wanted to kill himself. And that she didn't want him to like her or be around her because she wasn't a good example.
Runa's Addition: Of course after the movie, Hubby came to pick us up, and Kaydikins and I weren't able to really enjoy the movie because we both felt like MJ should be there with us, but we can't reward bad behaviour just because we want to have her with us. I had to talk to Kaydikins multiple times about how we can't indulge MJ or it will spoil her and she won't learn to behave better, but I think Kaydikins kinda got the point. We went to Ross's, 2nd and Charles, and Walgreens shopping after the movie, which Mum said made MJ really mad (quietly) about. Eventually MJ called us (we were heading home by that point) asking if we'd be coming home soon, since she wasn't allowed to go out. I told her she wasn't allowed to go play with her friends because she'd behaved so badly in the car, so she was bored at home by herself.
When we got home, we ate soup (Mommy's homemade soup! YAY!), and then got Mom's car ready to be washed and cleaned by MJ because she lost a bet with me a few days ago. We eased up because originally she was supposed to do it by herself, but if she did, it'd be sloppy and take forever and we'd never get to play water balloons with the kids. So the four of us played and washed and worked and eventually did a good enough job, and we got the water balloons filled, but the water balloons are rather difficult to pop.
This created it's own problems which eventually escalated into one of the worst fits MJ has had this year. She and Kaydikins exasperated each other to the point that when Kaydikins got the last water spray in as he went inside, MJ ended up screaming about how he's the reason everything goes wrong. When I corrected her, that it's her attitude ruining everything, she screamed 'Well maybe that's because I shouldn't be here!!' and tried to go inside. Mom kicked her back out because she wasn't ready for her (she was wet, and the AC would have gotten her sick, and Kaydikins was still bathing) so we told her she's required to pick up all the water balloon remains for screaming at me for the third time today.
Of course this made her angry, and she came up to me with her fists clenched, and threatened to take me down. I looked her in the eye and told her she'd be the one going down, but if she'd like, please continue to come at me. She turned around and walked to the hose for the water balloons. As I started to say she didn't need to pick that up, she started trying to break it, so I went to take it from her. She continued to play keep away until Hubby finally came to help me, at which point she threw it rather than give it to us.
I tried to restrain her as she started to thrash (I didn't realize it then, but she was trying to get a good angle to kick me) but she was slippery, and so was I, so when she went to hit me, I caught her arms, and dropped her to the ground, then sat on her lightly to keep her from getting her legs in my crotch area. When she screamed she couldn't breathe, I lightened the pressure a bit, but refused to release her because she admitted she was going to continue trying to hurt me, and she wouldn't calm down.
She spewed a lot of shit about how I'm a liar because I said I don't get jealous (this goes back to a long time ago, when we had a girls day out and I told her jealousy would destroy her life) and since I'm human, jealousy happens. I think she must have been chewing over my words for a long time and found she couldn't restrain her jealousy, so doesn't believe someone else can (or else is ironically jealous that I'm not jealous of others).
There were other things, like screaming that she wishes I was her mother and not that big fat hoe that is. I genuinely was fighting to keep her from thrashing and missed parts of it (Hubby heard that part) and thought she was calling me a big fat hoe. I said something to the effect of 'I'm sorry you think I'm a ho, but that's your opinion,' and she screamed 'Not you!! Her!!' and I'm fighting to keep hold of her hands so she can't punch at me again, and I'm just like 'Oh.' I can't really argue that opinion of her mother right now, so okay.
At one point, I warned her that if she couldn't calm down, I would press her diaphragm til she passed out to get her to stop screaming, it was that bad. After that, she was down to spewing venom with her words, but not her voice. She also stopped trying to punch me around then. I could finally let her arms go, which was great because I was dizzy from leaning over like that.
I've prolly damaged my mom's reputation in the neighborhood, considering we were in the front yard, with me holding down a screaming 13 yr old. Several people walked or drove by during this, during sunset on a Saturday night. Mom was worried police would be called on us, but I wouldn't have cared. I repeatedly told MJ I wouldn't let her go until she calmed down. Eventually she was down to just crying and asking to go home. She was worried Kaydikins would hate her, and didn't want to go inside. Once I got her to go inside, she didn't want to be alone during her shower, so asked me to stay. I ended up getting in the shower right after her, so we had a fairly non-awkward 'we're both naked' moment, not counting the one when she couldn't get her hips to stop itching, and I ended up washing her hips, back, shoulders, etc for her. She and I are allergic to grass, so it's got to be cleaned off thoroughly, especially her, since she was held down in the grass for so long.
During her shower, she asked me why she was like this, why she couldn't be good, and why she couldn't just be what she wanted to be. She talked about how she's been trying so hard to change and she can't and she hated herself so much and why couldn't she just die. It's been an interesting evening. I'm exhausted and tired and just kind of ready to throw in the towel for the night.
Sunday, April 9, 2017
I has new job. Cheeseburger?
By that, I mean that I now work three jobs, and that comes to massaging six days in a row, and twice on Mondays. My new boss sampled my massage (and paid for it omg) and says I am highly skilled and she loves it. I like this job, even if its an IC position (noe, why, ugh, taxes are gonna be fun) and I like the people I work with. I'm hoping I'll be able to leave my old massage job soon, as I feel under appreciated and over worked. By that, I mean that management isnt doing what they're supposed to, and we're having to pick up the slack.
We visited with Hubby's family this weekend. We were also apparently supposed to chat with Caitlec, but we all seem to have forgotten. I was too busy getting creamed at pool and table tennis to remember. We ate separately from his parents Saturday because they wanted to go to church, and we visited Books a Million (an endangered species, believe me) then ate at an expensive Italian place.
I wasn't looking for expensive, but I was looking for local. I do try to eat at locally owned unique restaurants because it assists the community, it usually isn't freezer food, and sometimes you hear the most amazing stories. This wasn't that experience, but the food was good, and we were able to have a deep convo with MJ for the first time without frustration from anybody.
I think it unsettled Hubby to be there but away from his parents, cause he made some comments later that felt like he was unsettled at the change in routine. Normally we pretty much hang with his parents the whole time, do what they want to, and eat wherever together (or MIL feeds us). The visits to our parents are very different from each other. It also prolly doesnt help that he doesnt really have any friends in his hometown, and no siblings, so doing things without his mom at least must feel strange.
For me, its really a treat when I get a full day with my mom, but also thats usually all either of us can handle. So one day is with my mom, and the other is doing things I want to with whoever, like my bro, sis, friend, just hubby, etc. For me, constantly being with parents (particularly as I rather judged when his mom is around) is strange, unsettling and stressful. I try to enjoy it though, as they are family.
Its really strange when Hubby asks what I want to do as though I know what the options are. It isnt my hometown, I dont know what to do. I think he'll do better with that over time thougj, and the flea market we visited this time was neat. I'd like to go again.
The beach was also nice. Itd be nice to spend a week there and really enjoy the sun and sea. Oh well. Maybe sometime in summer.
This song reminds me of one of the worst fights I've had with Hubby:
We visited with Hubby's family this weekend. We were also apparently supposed to chat with Caitlec, but we all seem to have forgotten. I was too busy getting creamed at pool and table tennis to remember. We ate separately from his parents Saturday because they wanted to go to church, and we visited Books a Million (an endangered species, believe me) then ate at an expensive Italian place.
I wasn't looking for expensive, but I was looking for local. I do try to eat at locally owned unique restaurants because it assists the community, it usually isn't freezer food, and sometimes you hear the most amazing stories. This wasn't that experience, but the food was good, and we were able to have a deep convo with MJ for the first time without frustration from anybody.
I think it unsettled Hubby to be there but away from his parents, cause he made some comments later that felt like he was unsettled at the change in routine. Normally we pretty much hang with his parents the whole time, do what they want to, and eat wherever together (or MIL feeds us). The visits to our parents are very different from each other. It also prolly doesnt help that he doesnt really have any friends in his hometown, and no siblings, so doing things without his mom at least must feel strange.
For me, its really a treat when I get a full day with my mom, but also thats usually all either of us can handle. So one day is with my mom, and the other is doing things I want to with whoever, like my bro, sis, friend, just hubby, etc. For me, constantly being with parents (particularly as I rather judged when his mom is around) is strange, unsettling and stressful. I try to enjoy it though, as they are family.
Its really strange when Hubby asks what I want to do as though I know what the options are. It isnt my hometown, I dont know what to do. I think he'll do better with that over time thougj, and the flea market we visited this time was neat. I'd like to go again.
The beach was also nice. Itd be nice to spend a week there and really enjoy the sun and sea. Oh well. Maybe sometime in summer.
This song reminds me of one of the worst fights I've had with Hubby:
Monday, March 20, 2017
One thing I've noticed is that I'm expensive
I don't just mean in my spending habits. I average $21.25 per hour when I'm working, excluding any tips, and including my work as a tutor. Based on my glance at our account this morning, if I wish to make as much as Hubby, but still only perform 12 hours of massage, I need to be paid $27-30 an hour, which is on the high end of an employee level massage therapist, but the low end if I worked for myself. Its completely feasible though. An average of $8-12 dollars in tips at that compensation would see me on equal earnings with Hubby, if I maintained my current tutoring schedule.
In a way it boggles the mind, that a $10 difference in salary could put me on par with a Researcher at a prestigious university. It almost makes it worth the effort to market myself. Being realistic however, I have 0 skill at selling myself. When panhandling once (for charity) I entirely earned my money by silently pouting at people pitifully in the rain because calling out was entirely too mortifying. If I won't do it for charity, I certainly won't do it for myself.
Still, I'm making great efforts to spend less money, and looking for ways to increase our income as well. I've joined a barter site that lets you trade services with your skills alone. I think its wonderful. Its paying for me and MJ's hair cut and color, for the price of four hour long massages. Its quite a fair trade, if a touch generous on my end.
It also lists a dental practice, and even child birth classes as things I can barter for. Thats really awesome for me. There of course are other services to be found, but those are the ones on my mind right now.
Thats pretty much it. Im just thinking of ways to increase our finances so Hubby wont worry as much. I wanted a record of the price range I need to be looking for, and some easy ways to substitute service for services.
Also? Child tried to return her sex toy last week 'because its boring'. I was shocked, and told her it wasnt meant to be exciting, it was to serve a function, and if she didnt want it, she could do without. My job is not to titillate her senses but to help her grow as an adult. Ugh.
In a way it boggles the mind, that a $10 difference in salary could put me on par with a Researcher at a prestigious university. It almost makes it worth the effort to market myself. Being realistic however, I have 0 skill at selling myself. When panhandling once (for charity) I entirely earned my money by silently pouting at people pitifully in the rain because calling out was entirely too mortifying. If I won't do it for charity, I certainly won't do it for myself.
Still, I'm making great efforts to spend less money, and looking for ways to increase our income as well. I've joined a barter site that lets you trade services with your skills alone. I think its wonderful. Its paying for me and MJ's hair cut and color, for the price of four hour long massages. Its quite a fair trade, if a touch generous on my end.
It also lists a dental practice, and even child birth classes as things I can barter for. Thats really awesome for me. There of course are other services to be found, but those are the ones on my mind right now.
Thats pretty much it. Im just thinking of ways to increase our finances so Hubby wont worry as much. I wanted a record of the price range I need to be looking for, and some easy ways to substitute service for services.
Also? Child tried to return her sex toy last week 'because its boring'. I was shocked, and told her it wasnt meant to be exciting, it was to serve a function, and if she didnt want it, she could do without. My job is not to titillate her senses but to help her grow as an adult. Ugh.
Thursday, March 9, 2017
I just gave my daughter a sex toy
And oh god, I feel icky. Let me start from the beginning.
See, when she asked for dick picks last week, we had her write a paper on why she did it, and she admitted she has sexual urges that she doesn't know how to deal with. She's struggling to reign in her hormones and her curiosity about sex in general, and not doing the greatest job of it. That's why she looks up porn, that's why she solicits picks, that's why she thinks being raped would be fine as long as they don't kill her.
She's curious, and we as parents have a responsibility to help her understand the urges. Historically, she would be looking for a husband, if not already married. In modern times, these urges have no legal outlet, no relief and no understanding. As her parents, we need to assist her before she indulges in boy-girl exploration.
This in no way is easy on me. Hubby seems to think it's no big deal, but I have strong mental blocks. I'm not sure if it's because I've actually been with her since birth, because I was always taught any sexual exploration should be discrete and out of sight of parents, or because until I turned 16, I genuinely believed sex was illegal if you weren't married. All of it culminates in my reluctant assistance. I actually only assisted because the Family Therapist said it was not strange, and that Hubby found it's not illegal to buy a toy for a minor. Possibly frowned upon, but not illegal. Additionally? I don't want to imagine her shoving random things up her body out of the need for relief. Just. Ugh.
The trip to the store was interesting. I wanted Hubby to go, but ended up going by myself. I felt way too awkward to say 'I'm buying this for my daughter, can you show me anything you'd recommend for a beginner that's not sexually active?' so ended up walking down every aisle, looking at a lot of toys, asking lots of questions, and finding a lot of interesting things in general. In the end, as I always do when I visit that type of sex shop, I bought a 'mystery gift bag' that guarantees the contents to be worth twice as much as you spend, if not more.
Ironically, the contents had a sex toy that I already have. I had bought her a 'discreet travel kit' with three attachments for different 'textures' but the one I now had a second of is actually a REALLY good toy. Like, worth $60+, lasts a long time, safe for beginners, and simple to use. So I gave her that one instead. We didn't tell her that I have the same one (that'd just be really awkward), but I'm fairly certain she'll have her name on it in no time, so I won't have to worry about any mix-ups.
I'd considered giving her both, but hubby said to let her get used to one first, and that she'd prolly lose the attachments if we gave her the other one. Both good points, I'll admit.
Before we gave it to her, we had her write the 'Rules of the Vagina' (her term, not mine), and I explained how tampons work. I didn't mean to her scare her off them, but that's what seemed to happen. Incidentally? She thought pads dissolved, and was flushing them down the toilet. CRAZY ASS CHILD.
Phew. So, yeah. Just felt this was a good 'for posterity' moment. Thanks for reading!
See, when she asked for dick picks last week, we had her write a paper on why she did it, and she admitted she has sexual urges that she doesn't know how to deal with. She's struggling to reign in her hormones and her curiosity about sex in general, and not doing the greatest job of it. That's why she looks up porn, that's why she solicits picks, that's why she thinks being raped would be fine as long as they don't kill her.
She's curious, and we as parents have a responsibility to help her understand the urges. Historically, she would be looking for a husband, if not already married. In modern times, these urges have no legal outlet, no relief and no understanding. As her parents, we need to assist her before she indulges in boy-girl exploration.
This in no way is easy on me. Hubby seems to think it's no big deal, but I have strong mental blocks. I'm not sure if it's because I've actually been with her since birth, because I was always taught any sexual exploration should be discrete and out of sight of parents, or because until I turned 16, I genuinely believed sex was illegal if you weren't married. All of it culminates in my reluctant assistance. I actually only assisted because the Family Therapist said it was not strange, and that Hubby found it's not illegal to buy a toy for a minor. Possibly frowned upon, but not illegal. Additionally? I don't want to imagine her shoving random things up her body out of the need for relief. Just. Ugh.
The trip to the store was interesting. I wanted Hubby to go, but ended up going by myself. I felt way too awkward to say 'I'm buying this for my daughter, can you show me anything you'd recommend for a beginner that's not sexually active?' so ended up walking down every aisle, looking at a lot of toys, asking lots of questions, and finding a lot of interesting things in general. In the end, as I always do when I visit that type of sex shop, I bought a 'mystery gift bag' that guarantees the contents to be worth twice as much as you spend, if not more.
Ironically, the contents had a sex toy that I already have. I had bought her a 'discreet travel kit' with three attachments for different 'textures' but the one I now had a second of is actually a REALLY good toy. Like, worth $60+, lasts a long time, safe for beginners, and simple to use. So I gave her that one instead. We didn't tell her that I have the same one (that'd just be really awkward), but I'm fairly certain she'll have her name on it in no time, so I won't have to worry about any mix-ups.
I'd considered giving her both, but hubby said to let her get used to one first, and that she'd prolly lose the attachments if we gave her the other one. Both good points, I'll admit.
Before we gave it to her, we had her write the 'Rules of the Vagina' (her term, not mine), and I explained how tampons work. I didn't mean to her scare her off them, but that's what seemed to happen. Incidentally? She thought pads dissolved, and was flushing them down the toilet. CRAZY ASS CHILD.
Phew. So, yeah. Just felt this was a good 'for posterity' moment. Thanks for reading!
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Mia's notes to me
In December, I made an advent calendar for Hubby and MJ. She wrote notes back to me for some of the days. They say:
Dec 1- You're important!
Dec 2- I love you!
Dec 3- I NEED you!
Dec 4- Never let go
I think these are short but heartfelt, and wanted an immortal record of them. Thats all.
Dec 1- You're important!
Dec 2- I love you!
Dec 3- I NEED you!
Dec 4- Never let go
I think these are short but heartfelt, and wanted an immortal record of them. Thats all.
Tuesday, January 31, 2017
As Mr Frosty once said
Happy Birthday!
Its the Hubby's birthday once again, and like in recent years, he's impossible to shop for. He buys whatever he needs, and I distinctly worry about buying the wrong thing and wasting money. One thing that never turns out badly however is sweets.
On that note, he's getting a cute little pudge in his belly. I love it, but it seems to stress him a bit, and blood pressure is something to keep an eye on, so I'm reluctant to ply him with sweets this year. His mom does that enough for me anyway.
I'm making steaks for dinner, and just hope I do well, considering I dont actually have a grill. After all the steaks I've had lately though, I may insist on going vegetarian for a few days to get some relief from it. Meat is great, but veggies are more versatile and less heavy.
Part of his present is this post, as I've neglected to blog much. Teehee?
Hmmmmm..... Heartfelt thoughts: Holy Moly we've been together nearly ten years and are still in love. Isn't that amazing? I'm so very glad I chose you, and that you chose me. I love you. Thanks for sticking with me on this rollercoaster we call life.
Its the Hubby's birthday once again, and like in recent years, he's impossible to shop for. He buys whatever he needs, and I distinctly worry about buying the wrong thing and wasting money. One thing that never turns out badly however is sweets.
On that note, he's getting a cute little pudge in his belly. I love it, but it seems to stress him a bit, and blood pressure is something to keep an eye on, so I'm reluctant to ply him with sweets this year. His mom does that enough for me anyway.
I'm making steaks for dinner, and just hope I do well, considering I dont actually have a grill. After all the steaks I've had lately though, I may insist on going vegetarian for a few days to get some relief from it. Meat is great, but veggies are more versatile and less heavy.
Part of his present is this post, as I've neglected to blog much. Teehee?
Hmmmmm..... Heartfelt thoughts: Holy Moly we've been together nearly ten years and are still in love. Isn't that amazing? I'm so very glad I chose you, and that you chose me. I love you. Thanks for sticking with me on this rollercoaster we call life.
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