Archive for the ‘made me cry’ Category

I feel like I lost one of my own tonight. One of my tribe laid down his arms and said “Enough.”

Enough of the hiding. Hiding your pain. Hiding your face. Hiding your scars and your wounds. Hiding from the beasts and demons you carry with you. Hiding from reality and hiding from fantasy.

Enough.

Enough of the lying. Lying to them, to you, to us, to all. Lying in wait for the next wave to come.

Enough.

It’s such a simple word, it’s easily understood with nothing more than a simple gesture.

But, it’s impact is great.

Some say “Enough” and stand up. Some say “Enough” and lie down.

Either way, nothing is ever the same.

 

The National Suicide Prevention Hotline is: 800-273-8255

For phone-phobics

bandbacktogether.com/resources

 

 

 

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Fear is a gust of wind the rattles my bones. Fear is a gray cloud that stops the quickens my heart. Fear is a click, creak and groan of a settling house. It’s an unexpected flash of light. Fear is a ghost that haunts me day and night. I am forever at the ready for the fear to be realized.

During the day I watch the sky and judge the wind. I check weather.com like it’s the next Twitter.  I look for reasons to leave the house. I don’t want to be here. Something bad might happen. Something I can’t protect my family against.

At night I stay up late, whether I am tired or not. I’m on the computer with The Weather Channel map open at all times. I peek out windows and check and recheck the locks. I make sure my keys and sneakers are readily available. I check for the dial tone. I go over in head how to load and hold the shotgun. Then I remember that if I ever had to shoot it, My kids would probably be in the line of fire. So I keep the phone in my pocket and wish I had a baseball bat.

When I finally go to bed, I lie there and think. In between lock and weather check, that is. I wonder, is tonight the night we get another tornado? Is this the night some one is going to break in?  Or is this place just going to go up in flames. If so, we’re all screwed.

We’re so far from help, calling wouldn’t matter. It would be over before they got halfway here. So I am always waiting to be called into action. I fear that moment when I have to stop being mom and  be the hero.

And I want it to stop.

I can’t live this way. My family shouldn’t have to put up with Edgy Mommy. Or Exhausted Mommy. It’s not fair to any of us.

So I’ve been looking for a new place to live. Tom has a new, better paying job so we can afford more. But it still is not enough. Rent prices have skyrocketed since the high volume gas well fracking has moved into the area. And once again, we are priced out of the market. The safe ones anyway.

That hasn’t stopped me. Everyday, several times a day, I have been scouring Craigslist and the local newspapers online for something that will work. I’ve even had Tom applying for mortgages while I talk to real estate agents. And for the past 3 months nothing has panned out. We are wither too late, they won’t take the cat ( that Tom won’t part with) or they want 1st, last and 2 months security. That can total over 4 grand.

Until today.

Today I found a 3 bedroom duplex in a nice area that is going to be available in September.  It’s in a great school district and they accept cats. It’s a situation that would alleviate my fears to some degree. It’s in a more populated area, mere minutes from the state troopers and a fire department. The neighborhood (all owned by the same company) look well maintained. And it has a BASEMENT. It’s like Manna  from Heaven. Just one, not so small catch. The rent is more than half of Tom’s paycheck and it would take more than $2k to move in.

If we paid nothing but food gas and insurance, we could get it done in about a month. Maybe a month and a half.

But to what end.

Sure, it has just about everything we want. It’s safe (looking), clean, cared for and convenient. I wouldn’t burst into tears and speed my kids up to my moms at the first clap of thunder and wind gust of 10 MPH.  I wouldn’t spend the night wondering if I should sleep in the hall outside my kids door, just in case.

I would, however, spend my night wondering how we were going to pay the heat, electric, insurance and food bills. And what about when the kids out grow the clothes and shoes they have. I can’t even fathom Christmas and Birthdays.

Oh, wait. I can.

I just stopped doing that shit a couple months ago. I don’t want to go back.

We can afford to pay our bills and live just a little now. It hurts my heart to think of going back to barely scraping by and counting pennies. Going nowhere and not buying things we need just so we can have a roof over our heads and all the very basics that go with it.

But then again, it hurts my heart to be terrified of my home. It hurts even more when Kieran wants to get in the truck and leave at the first raindrop. It takes everything I have to soothe him and tell him it’s okay when in reality, I want to get in the truck too.

So I’m left with this question-

How much a month is my sense of security worth? How much is my kids sense of security worth?

I’ve been dealing with some internal crap lately.  Feeling like a permanent world class fuck-up, having nothing left of me, sundowning at 10am, feeling weighed down emotionally and physically.  I haven’t been able to do much. Just the basics like feeding my kids.

I haven’t even felt like writing. My Father’s day post was written weeks in advance when I was in a better frame of mind. If I had written that post on Sunday, it would have read very differently.

How?

First of all I wasn’t home to write it. I gave Tom what I would have like to have as a gift. A day to himself. I took the kids swimming with my mom and left Tom to do as he pleases. He could putter with his gun, watch hunting shows and nap endlessly.

He did all that except nap. A funny thing happens when the kids and I are out and Tom is left to his own devices. He suddenly has no urge to nap.

I’m not talking about resting for 20 minutes to recharge the batteries. I’m mean must sleep for 2-3 Hours. NOW.

I understand that he works a physically demanding job in 120 degree* heat . That would wear anyone out. But for some odd reason, it’s not nearly tiring when the kids and I aren’t there when he gets home. Hence no nap.

WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That just screams ” I don’t want to deal with you” to me.

That really doesn’t help my feeling like I’ve made every wrong decision possible. Choices that affect my kids. Like committing myself for life to the wrong person. The person that helped me create those kids.

I with the kids solo for at least 11 hours a day. That’s not including the time he is present but can’t be bothered. At the end of the day I have nothing left. Not even for myself.

I can’t even muster up the drive to take care of myself.

I’ve been wanting to start working out. I’ve told Tom that I need an hour to myself when he gets home. His answer was that he didn’t get time to himself. Um…… yeah you do. You use it to sleep.  His response was no less frustrating than the actual naps.

” So, if I don’t take a nap when I get home, we’ll be even”.

AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We’ve had conversations about how I need to take better care of myself and exercise. Tom even said that I wouldn’t be around to take care of anyone if I didn’t change my lifestyle. He’s right but he’s unwilling to sacrifice an hour a day for me.

A freaking HOUR!

This near-uselessness pops up anytime I need to leave him in-charge of the kids. He always asks if I can do whatever after the kids go to bed or if my mom can watch them.

At this point my mom** spends more time helping me that Tom does.

I can’t keep this up. I’m  not going to keep this up. Today, after Tom gets home and has some lunch, I am taking my hour. Regardless of what he says.

Like my mom’s very wise friend, Kelly C. told me ” You teach people how to treat you”.

School is in session.

*no, I’m not exaggerating. I’m pretty sure it violates workers rights too.

** I love my mom. She’s AWESOME!

UPDATE-  I got my walk. Without an argument. Shocker! I only took a half an hour because I’m REALLY out of shape and didn’t want to kill my self or my drive to get in shape. My current goal is to start couch25k in October.

4 years ago I was hallucinating. I thought I was in St. Mary’s Hospital in Knoxville,Tennessee. I kept looking at the door, waitign for my aunt to duck waddle into the room. I was going to verbally throw her out on her can. After all that she had done, she had a set of brass ones to walk in right then.

While I was busy waiting for bad blood to rise, Tom did the unthinkable. He walked up, gently touched my hand and informed me he was going to the bathroom. All I could do was nod. I watched as he walked across the room, entered the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Panic set in. tears started to flow. How could he leave me sitting here scared, alone and in pain. I understood that he had to use the potty when he told me but as soon as that door closed , I was convinved that he left me in the hospital. I was sure he was driving home. In my mind, I was abandoned.

Between working 3rd shift, being sent to the hospital most of the day before for tests and then being up all night with a UTI, I was a mess. I called my DR no less than 20 times that morning only to be redirected to the nurses station at the local hospital. The nurse on duty kept telling me that I was fine and my pain was normal. Something told me she was wrong, so I kept calling.

Finally, she asked me why I didn’t just call my DR. She was pretty annoyed at that point but so was I. She didn’t even offer to page him when I told her that was how got to talk to her all night long. All I got was ” He should be in now, keep trying”. Even after I told her I was bleeding.

I *love* small country hospitals.
I finally got in contact with DR. MIA and was seen immediately. He sent me off to the oh so *wonderful* hospital and the *helpful* nurse for a transfer. They couldn’t help me there. At least they knew that much. 
As soon as I was hooked up to the machines, Nurse*Helpful* came in to tell me that what was happing now had nothing to do with the tests I had yesterday. Maybe not, but I told you my pain had moved and became more intense right before you discharged me. You blew me off. Just like my manager blew me off when I said I needed to pee. He left me waiting for an hour and a half each time.
I really should have let them fire me when I got in trouble for using the bathroom too much.
I didn’t care what she said. I just nodded and asked when I was being transfered and when was Tom showing up. I had lost my confidence in her and the hospital. I wanted OUT.
I knew my situation was bad, but just how bad I was unsure of. I did get a small clue when they gave me some drugs for the pain and brought the ambulance stretcher in at the same time. Only 15 minutes had passed since my arrival. I had sat in the same room for 6 hours the day before over a UTI. I was a little sad that I didn’t get to ride in a helicopter but happy to be going to a better hospital. The problem would be taken care of and I would be in my own bed that night.
Tom must have been flying because he walked in as they were wheeling me out. There was an hour between our locations and he covered it in under 20 minutes.
Despite the painkillers, the ride was agony. Paved or not, that was some of the roughest road I had ever been on. All the dips and turns and sinkholes. I was starting to wonder if the nurse had given me a placebo. Don’t ask me why. That was probably the first delusion of many that night.
They did use the siren for me at lights. Yay me!
I get to Big Hospital still relatively calm. There’s that whole delusional thing working again. I’m greeted by a flock of nurses. Competent, well informed, very nice nurses. 
I hope I apologized in advance. I don’t handle pain well. I’m down right nasty. Like “Exorcist” nasty.
They hook me up and get me comfortable. As much as I can be anyway.   Tom, my mom and his mom show up shortly after me. 
I get to see DR. Specialist who runs some tests to see if I need surgery.
We hang out, I try to relieve the pain while waiting for the okay for drugs. I don’t do so well. I can’t have anything until the tests come back. If I need surgery, they’ll have to give me anesthesia and they don’t want any bad reactions to it.
I’m growling and grumpy. I won’t let poor Tom touch me. It hurt too much. They had me lay on my back for a catheter insertion. Have you ever had one of those with out drugs AND with a UTI. It wasn’t on my list of things to do before I die. It shouldn’t be on your either. I almost puked the pain was so bad. I hadn’t eaten in more than 12 hours so it wouldn’t have produced much anyway.
DR. Specialist comes back and tells me that I don’t need surgery. Yay! Unfortunately the situation had progress too far for me to go home. He also tells me that I can have what ever drugs I want as soon as the anesthesiologist is done with a c-section. Yay! In an hour. Damn!
Time passes, the moms go home with promises to come back first thing, Tom passes out in a chair.
More time passes. I have long since convinced myself that I was in TN and Tom left me.The pain is so intense I can’t sit still and I am using some colorful language. I really hope I apologized at some point. My body keeps trying to fall asleep or pass out, I can’t tell. All I knew was that I was staring at the clock and suddenly two minutes had passed.
Almost 3 hours after the Dr’s okay, my hero walks in. The rockstar of the medical world. 
The Anesthesiologist!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sweet relief!!!! I don’t care how much he gets paid, it’s not enough.
I actually let Tom touch me again, then I am out like a light before  the staff can leave the room. I don’t care how tired you are, there is no way to sleep soundly when people keep poking at you and asking what your pain level is. I didn’t care. I felt no pain and that was my only goal.
Well, it was until something had changed. I woke Tom up and sent him for a nurse because I was too groggy to find the call button. There was a flurry of activity. Every one moved so quick, It was like watching a movie in time lapse. I felt weird being the only one not doing something. I really didn’t have a choice at that point.
After 12 minutes I got this….. 
Due to a UTI, Amanda was born 6 weeks premature on 5/26/2006.
Even through all of that, when I think of her birth, the first thing I think of is turning to Tom, who was all up in my shit to watch,  and saying 
“Holy Shit! I just gave birth!”. 
Happy 4th Birthday Amanda!