...is so fucking stressful.
Life lessons are never easy. Especially when your daughter, who used to be sweet, has encountered the temper tantrums from hell. Like, "put a two year old screaming in the middle of Target to shame" temper tantrums.
I've gone full dictator mode. Her room has been emptied of anything fun, literally stripped down to her vanity, bed, clothes, and shoes.
Let me start from the beginning.
She got grounded about a week ago for doing something dumb. Something that could have injured herself and her friends. While she didn't actively participate, she didn't stop it, and I'm all about complacency is no different than actively participating.
So, bye-bye went all electronics, friends, and going out for two weeks. Also, some manual labor was included in the punishment. When she began resisting anything she was asked to by way of screaming and crying, I decided it was time for a bit harsher punishment.
While she's respectful outside of the home, I (nor any parent) should not have to put up with certain behaviors such as; screaming, crying when one doesn't get what they want, consciously talking back, tantrums, etc.
She has nothing. She has to earn it all back through respectful behavior and compliance. (Also in some cases it is okay to buck the system, but when it comes to doing chores in your own home, it is not okay)
Let me tell you how that's going.
I'm so stressed out, I managed to come down with a mild case of shingles. She's currently screaming at me from her bedroom something so shrill that I cannot even understand what she's screaming about BUT, she's doing it from her bedroom. She's doing it from the place that I told her she is not allowed to leave until the whopping two jobs I asked her to do this morning are completed.
I asked Alexa to play some classical music. So, my house looks like a scene from a movie where all hell is breaking loose while the main character is just taking it all in to some soothing music. It's bringing my blood pressure back down. I totally get it now!
Even as I'm wrapping up this post, she's stopped screaming and has started working on at least one of the jobs.
I cannot WAIT until my children have children.
~Kim
I try to be a no-nonsense kind of gal. I speak my mind often, and this is no different! Be aware: I have opinions and you may not like all of them. I also am not a "typical" Matriarch, but if you read any of my posts you will know that in record time! :) This, that, and everything. There is something relatable for just about everyone (over 20)
Wednesday, August 9, 2017
Sunday, August 6, 2017
The Agony of Defeat...
is a bitter pill.
Tonight I feel defeated. Not in a way where I actually lost anything. Not technically anyhow.
I'm in a constant battle with my ten year old. She makes some not-so-good decisions, deliberately does things she knows she's not supposed to do, and screams at me like I'm some lackey in a ship's bowels that isn't rowing fast enough.
Today, I broke.
I lost it completely.
She boxed up every single damn thing in her bedroom and I've moved it out.
Everything with the exception of the bed, clothing, and shoes.
As I hid upstairs and cried for at least a half an hour, all I could wonder is where I went wrong. How did I raise a little girl who just doesn't give a shit about getting into trouble, who has no respect for me, and no respect for the rest of the family?
I just don't understand it. I expected it in the teen years, because they all go through it, but she's only TEN! TEN!!!!
Tonight I was told that I hated her, she wants to go live with Gramma, that I should adopt another daughter who would be perfect, and that she's going to run away.
Talk about a knife to the heart.
I'm hanging tough this time. She was already grounded for a stunt she pulled earlier in the week and decided it was okay to not do what she was told to do and to mouth off.
Uh. No.
So, now, I'm the asshole mom (which I'm not good at because I don't like being the asshole mom).
She's down there asleep and I'm up here on the verge of tears again.
She's not the only reason that I'm on the verge of tears, but she's championing the cause.
I feel defeated. Really fucking defeated.
~Kim
Tonight I feel defeated. Not in a way where I actually lost anything. Not technically anyhow.
I'm in a constant battle with my ten year old. She makes some not-so-good decisions, deliberately does things she knows she's not supposed to do, and screams at me like I'm some lackey in a ship's bowels that isn't rowing fast enough.
Today, I broke.
I lost it completely.
She boxed up every single damn thing in her bedroom and I've moved it out.
Everything with the exception of the bed, clothing, and shoes.
As I hid upstairs and cried for at least a half an hour, all I could wonder is where I went wrong. How did I raise a little girl who just doesn't give a shit about getting into trouble, who has no respect for me, and no respect for the rest of the family?
I just don't understand it. I expected it in the teen years, because they all go through it, but she's only TEN! TEN!!!!
Tonight I was told that I hated her, she wants to go live with Gramma, that I should adopt another daughter who would be perfect, and that she's going to run away.
Talk about a knife to the heart.
I'm hanging tough this time. She was already grounded for a stunt she pulled earlier in the week and decided it was okay to not do what she was told to do and to mouth off.
Uh. No.
So, now, I'm the asshole mom (which I'm not good at because I don't like being the asshole mom).
She's down there asleep and I'm up here on the verge of tears again.
She's not the only reason that I'm on the verge of tears, but she's championing the cause.
I feel defeated. Really fucking defeated.
~Kim
Car Ride Conversation #2
Grocery shopping and kids...Two things that make life difficult!
PSA: I do not starve my children :)
~Kim
PSA: I do not starve my children :)
~Kim
Saturday, August 5, 2017
Car Ride Conversation #1 (Reboot with YouTube Link)
So the gremlins at YouTube processed my video a lot more quickly than I expected.
YAY!
So today's conversation revolves around (surprise) depression!
So, I suppose if I'm going to start vlogging (still weird) I should do the typical YouTube junk and say,
"Please give me a thumbs up if you like it and hit the subscribe button."
I'm going to have to come up with something better because that just sounds lame!
~Kim
YAY!
So today's conversation revolves around (surprise) depression!
So, I suppose if I'm going to start vlogging (still weird) I should do the typical YouTube junk and say,
"Please give me a thumbs up if you like it and hit the subscribe button."
I'm going to have to come up with something better because that just sounds lame!
~Kim
Car Ride Conversation #1
My YouTube channel is still buggered.
I'm hoping that my first "vlog" (I can't get over writing that word) will upload before I'm old enough to retire.
So I'm going to give a shot to embedding the video in this post, just so I can get it up and repost tomorrow with the link to my YouTube channel.
I'm hoping that my first "vlog" (I can't get over writing that word) will upload before I'm old enough to retire.
So I'm going to give a shot to embedding the video in this post, just so I can get it up and repost tomorrow with the link to my YouTube channel.
So here it is...My first actual "Car Ride Conversation. I hope it doesn't suck.
~Kim
P.S. I'll learn how to edit eventually too!
Car Ride Conversations
I've decided to go ahead and launch my blog into the 21st century and "vlog" a little bit. (That's what the cool kids call it, right?)
This is an interesting thing for me.
It's cool because it's a hands free, spontaneous (and editable thankfully) way to get out what's on my mind.
Please don't expect anything spectacular. I promise to always look halfway decent. I promise to edit out the stupidity. I promise to be real.
That last one is most important to me.
I don't like the way I look. I'm not happy with my body (and no it doesn't have anything to do with body shaming (side note ooh good topic!)), but eh.
As with every other post on here, if I can just reach one person who needs to hear whatever comes spewing forth from the ever-flowing font of sarcasm and mom-ness, that's all that matters to me.
This is my own little bit of therapy.
Good luck. I hope you enjoy my first "Car Ride Conversations" which should be posting within the hour.
~Kim
This is an interesting thing for me.
It's cool because it's a hands free, spontaneous (and editable thankfully) way to get out what's on my mind.
Please don't expect anything spectacular. I promise to always look halfway decent. I promise to edit out the stupidity. I promise to be real.
That last one is most important to me.
I don't like the way I look. I'm not happy with my body (and no it doesn't have anything to do with body shaming (side note ooh good topic!)), but eh.
As with every other post on here, if I can just reach one person who needs to hear whatever comes spewing forth from the ever-flowing font of sarcasm and mom-ness, that's all that matters to me.
This is my own little bit of therapy.
Good luck. I hope you enjoy my first "Car Ride Conversations" which should be posting within the hour.
~Kim
Tuesday, July 25, 2017
I'm Super Excited...
...for a movie that releases next week.
It's a grown-up movie!
I know! How exciting that there is NO animation!
The Dark Tower is based on my favorite series on the planet; The Dark Tower by Stephen King. I'm also awaiting the release with much trepidation.
This epic series delivers so much that I'm not sure the movie can even remotely compete.
I've been having conversations with friends who are excited for the movie and are going in with an open mind. I'm struggling to do so.
So many major things are different. The main character, for example, is completely different visually in the movie than he is in the book.
While I understand this is a "sequel" to the series, I just don't understand the direction.
So, I'm dragging my best friend to the movie, going in with an open mind (as open as I can pry it with a mental pry bar), and hoping for the best.
I'll let you know. I know you'll be waiting with bated breath.
The reason this made the blog is because I get to go out WITHOUT KIDS!!!! I'm so super excited that it's kind of ridiculous!
~Kim
It's a grown-up movie!
I know! How exciting that there is NO animation!
The Dark Tower is based on my favorite series on the planet; The Dark Tower by Stephen King. I'm also awaiting the release with much trepidation.
This epic series delivers so much that I'm not sure the movie can even remotely compete.
I've been having conversations with friends who are excited for the movie and are going in with an open mind. I'm struggling to do so.
So many major things are different. The main character, for example, is completely different visually in the movie than he is in the book.
While I understand this is a "sequel" to the series, I just don't understand the direction.
So, I'm dragging my best friend to the movie, going in with an open mind (as open as I can pry it with a mental pry bar), and hoping for the best.
I'll let you know. I know you'll be waiting with bated breath.
The reason this made the blog is because I get to go out WITHOUT KIDS!!!! I'm so super excited that it's kind of ridiculous!
~Kim
It Has Been A While...
...since I posted.
My apologies for that, but life has been a little hairy.
Our family had a huge crisis and the good ole me snuck right in and shut down.
The good news, I only shut down for a couple of days. The rest has been dealing with the crisis and living a life of a little more freedom from the black monster.
I've been cleaning.
Yep, you've read that right! Cleaning!
I'm an eternal slob, just ask my mother and she'll regale you with tales of my childhood messes and slobbobian (her word for me) ways. It had gotten so bad that I didn't even see the point in cleaning at all.
After all, with three kids, it was just going to get dirty again, right? Yeah, that logic doesn't really work when there are three kids who are old enough to clean up after themselves, but instead, because they've seen your laziness (that's what they attribute it to, but I know better) they don't feel the need to do so.
Living in a constant state of messes and dirt has recently stopped being my style. I suddenly want my friends to come over. Most of them won't judge me, but I'm starting to feel embarrassed about the way my house looks.
I want to be able to invite my mother over to dinner, or lunch, or just to sit in the back yard. I want that without the fear of lecture about my housekeeping skills (or lack there of).
I want friends to be able to pop over and come in, despite the crazily barking dog, anytime.
When someone comes over to pick me up, I want them to be able to come in the front door and walk into my kitchen.
I want to be social again. I want it more than anything in the world. I miss that part of me so very much. I'm getting there.
I still have to be cajoled to leave the house a little more than necessary, and too many people in a place still makes me want to turn tail and go home, but I'm working on it.
I'm also learning how to accept help from my friends. Despite the fact that I have lived in an eternal funk, I am always the helper. It was a little piece of me that I refused to let get completely consumed. Honestly, I will never get used to being on the other end, but I'm trying. And I appreciate the friends who are trying to help me.
Overall, I haven't written a post because I didn't know what to say. I thought I was back sliding, but it turns out that I was just having a "normal person" funk. Temporary.
~Kim
P.S. I've started writing another book. This one is non-fiction and I will release details here as the writing progresses. If you're a mother, you'll want to stay tuned....If you're not, it'll still be a fun ride!
My apologies for that, but life has been a little hairy.
Our family had a huge crisis and the good ole me snuck right in and shut down.
The good news, I only shut down for a couple of days. The rest has been dealing with the crisis and living a life of a little more freedom from the black monster.
I've been cleaning.
Yep, you've read that right! Cleaning!
I'm an eternal slob, just ask my mother and she'll regale you with tales of my childhood messes and slobbobian (her word for me) ways. It had gotten so bad that I didn't even see the point in cleaning at all.
After all, with three kids, it was just going to get dirty again, right? Yeah, that logic doesn't really work when there are three kids who are old enough to clean up after themselves, but instead, because they've seen your laziness (that's what they attribute it to, but I know better) they don't feel the need to do so.
Living in a constant state of messes and dirt has recently stopped being my style. I suddenly want my friends to come over. Most of them won't judge me, but I'm starting to feel embarrassed about the way my house looks.
I want to be able to invite my mother over to dinner, or lunch, or just to sit in the back yard. I want that without the fear of lecture about my housekeeping skills (or lack there of).
I want friends to be able to pop over and come in, despite the crazily barking dog, anytime.
When someone comes over to pick me up, I want them to be able to come in the front door and walk into my kitchen.
I want to be social again. I want it more than anything in the world. I miss that part of me so very much. I'm getting there.
I still have to be cajoled to leave the house a little more than necessary, and too many people in a place still makes me want to turn tail and go home, but I'm working on it.
I'm also learning how to accept help from my friends. Despite the fact that I have lived in an eternal funk, I am always the helper. It was a little piece of me that I refused to let get completely consumed. Honestly, I will never get used to being on the other end, but I'm trying. And I appreciate the friends who are trying to help me.
Overall, I haven't written a post because I didn't know what to say. I thought I was back sliding, but it turns out that I was just having a "normal person" funk. Temporary.
~Kim
P.S. I've started writing another book. This one is non-fiction and I will release details here as the writing progresses. If you're a mother, you'll want to stay tuned....If you're not, it'll still be a fun ride!
Wednesday, July 19, 2017
I Am So Ridiculously Stressed Out...
...That I can't even tell what's working and what's not.
It's really that simple.
There is so much weighing me down right now, I'm not even sure a "normal" person wouldn't crack.
Yes it will all work itself out.
Yes I have survived this (almost) exact same thing.
Yes I know it's just a small thing in the scheme of things.
I know all of these things, but the weight. The responsibility. The fact that life is basically at a standstill because I cannot handle things immediately (and not for lack of trying or being overwhelmed and not doing anything, that's what put me in these situations).
I'm worried.
I'm stressed.
I'm tired.
~Kim
It's really that simple.
There is so much weighing me down right now, I'm not even sure a "normal" person wouldn't crack.
Yes it will all work itself out.
Yes I have survived this (almost) exact same thing.
Yes I know it's just a small thing in the scheme of things.
I know all of these things, but the weight. The responsibility. The fact that life is basically at a standstill because I cannot handle things immediately (and not for lack of trying or being overwhelmed and not doing anything, that's what put me in these situations).
I'm worried.
I'm stressed.
I'm tired.
~Kim
I'm A Transition Mom...
Yep, I am.
I have a man-child (no not my husband in this case), a wanna-be man child, and a pre-teen.
I'm am transitioning into three different stages of my children's lives.
There are so many days that I have no clue how I'm going to survive it.
No. Clue.
Between the "I am 18 and should get to do what I want, but I still want you to pay for stuff," and the "I got a job, I deserve a reward," (are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?!) and the "I want to do all the stuff my older brothers do without the thought that I am 10 years old."
Yet, with all of that, they're still tattlers. Every single one of them will flip on the other in a heart beat...I don't even have to bribe any of them.
Oh! Oh! And not only the little stuff! They practically kill themselves getting to me to tell me about the big stuff.
I'm preparing one to transition to college. He's the one I'm going to talk about here.
He's starting his senior year of high school this fall. We've been looking at colleges, and some have been looking at him, too. He knows what he wants to go to school for, which blows my mind, but he doesn't know where he wants to go.
He had a revelation a few months ago when we were talking about transitioning to college.
Me: "How in the hell are you going to wake yourself up every day to go to class?"
Him: "You mean my RA won't do it?"
I sat there slack jawed and realized how little I've prepared him to be an adult.
Okay, how I have hardly prepared him to be an adult at all.
So, now I'm trying to make up for lost time. I'm coming down like a hammer. I'm standing my ground and trying to teach him responsibility.
Boy, did I miss the fucking boat on that one.
I'm trying, he's resisting. I'm losing my shit constantly.
Making up for lost time is hard. My advice to you parents with younger kids; don't make excuses. Don't put off teaching them the important things. Don't spoil them with no responsibility.
You'll thank me later!
~Kim
What advice do other transition mom's have?
We can all use all the help we can get!
I have a man-child (no not my husband in this case), a wanna-be man child, and a pre-teen.
I'm am transitioning into three different stages of my children's lives.
There are so many days that I have no clue how I'm going to survive it.
No. Clue.
Between the "I am 18 and should get to do what I want, but I still want you to pay for stuff," and the "I got a job, I deserve a reward," (are you FREAKING KIDDING ME?!) and the "I want to do all the stuff my older brothers do without the thought that I am 10 years old."
Yet, with all of that, they're still tattlers. Every single one of them will flip on the other in a heart beat...I don't even have to bribe any of them.
Oh! Oh! And not only the little stuff! They practically kill themselves getting to me to tell me about the big stuff.
I'm preparing one to transition to college. He's the one I'm going to talk about here.
He's starting his senior year of high school this fall. We've been looking at colleges, and some have been looking at him, too. He knows what he wants to go to school for, which blows my mind, but he doesn't know where he wants to go.
He had a revelation a few months ago when we were talking about transitioning to college.
Me: "How in the hell are you going to wake yourself up every day to go to class?"
Him: "You mean my RA won't do it?"
I sat there slack jawed and realized how little I've prepared him to be an adult.
Okay, how I have hardly prepared him to be an adult at all.
So, now I'm trying to make up for lost time. I'm coming down like a hammer. I'm standing my ground and trying to teach him responsibility.
Boy, did I miss the fucking boat on that one.
I'm trying, he's resisting. I'm losing my shit constantly.
Making up for lost time is hard. My advice to you parents with younger kids; don't make excuses. Don't put off teaching them the important things. Don't spoil them with no responsibility.
You'll thank me later!
~Kim
What advice do other transition mom's have?
We can all use all the help we can get!
Sunday, July 16, 2017
I Guess It's Turning...
...into an every other day thing.
Yesterday, I joined (some of) my family to celebrate a birthday.
We drove two hours and had a marvelous time (while oldest stayed home like a stick in the mud with a list of chores to complete). I enjoyed myself. We laughed. We told stories. We ate. It was lovely.
Once I'm out of the house, I have a nice time (on most occasions). It's just hard to get out of the house.
That being said, in about a week, I get to go on an adventure. I'm picking up a boat load of books that a new friend picked up for me at a garage sale (all Stephen King. All hardback. I'm still squealing with glee) and she's promised an adventure. I'm actually excited!
It's so cool to feel excitement rather than dread. The coolest part is that it is for me. I don't do a lot of stuff for me. I used to think that was okay, but I'm beginning to realize how wrong I was.
I just need a few things to fall into place to make this wonderful adventure stress free.
I. Can't. Wait.
I woke up today with a headache. I didn't let that stop me. I took a couple of Advil and pressed on to do grown up stuff. I did it all with a smile on my face looking forward.
I know it's only been a little over two weeks (I have stopped counting days, it's just too daunting and too much disappointment), but I'm pretty sure the will be a med adjustment at my next visit.
There are still a ton of ups and downs. Too many, in my opinion (who has no medical background whatsoever) and I will tell her that when I see her in three or four weeks.
So, the best thing that this new joy, this something to look forward to has given me is the motivation to write. My mind has cleared, and my storytellers are starting to awaken again.
I can't think of a better reward than being able to sit down and write again.
~Kim
Yesterday, I joined (some of) my family to celebrate a birthday.
We drove two hours and had a marvelous time (while oldest stayed home like a stick in the mud with a list of chores to complete). I enjoyed myself. We laughed. We told stories. We ate. It was lovely.
Once I'm out of the house, I have a nice time (on most occasions). It's just hard to get out of the house.
That being said, in about a week, I get to go on an adventure. I'm picking up a boat load of books that a new friend picked up for me at a garage sale (all Stephen King. All hardback. I'm still squealing with glee) and she's promised an adventure. I'm actually excited!
It's so cool to feel excitement rather than dread. The coolest part is that it is for me. I don't do a lot of stuff for me. I used to think that was okay, but I'm beginning to realize how wrong I was.
I just need a few things to fall into place to make this wonderful adventure stress free.
I. Can't. Wait.
I woke up today with a headache. I didn't let that stop me. I took a couple of Advil and pressed on to do grown up stuff. I did it all with a smile on my face looking forward.
I know it's only been a little over two weeks (I have stopped counting days, it's just too daunting and too much disappointment), but I'm pretty sure the will be a med adjustment at my next visit.
There are still a ton of ups and downs. Too many, in my opinion (who has no medical background whatsoever) and I will tell her that when I see her in three or four weeks.
So, the best thing that this new joy, this something to look forward to has given me is the motivation to write. My mind has cleared, and my storytellers are starting to awaken again.
I can't think of a better reward than being able to sit down and write again.
~Kim
Friday, July 14, 2017
Ugh...That's All I've Got...
Really...It is.
My positivity is waning.
Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to try to get yourself fired up every single day? To will a medication to be the answer?
It's fucking taxing and this motor has run out of gas.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it.
I've got thirteen days until the first thirty are in the books. I'm exasperated, really.
While I've done a few things and I am having more good days, I'm afraid they're self-inflicted and I'm not sure I can continue on.
For example, while I did take D and her friend swimming today at the local pool, I sat in bed until 11:00. I didn't want to go downstairs because I knew what my house looked like. I knew that I was going to have to fight the kids to get them to help do anything. I knew that I had no desire to do anything myself.
I did manage to throw in a load of laundry (crap gotta switch it to the dryer or it'll be stinky and I'll have to rewash it), but that's it.
I still haven't called the therapist that called me on the recommendation of my doctor. I'm not sure what's stopping me (shit, I just remembered something else I was supposed to do today! UGH!) because I KNOW I need that help, too. I just...I just can't make myself do it.
I'll be out tomorrow at a family thing. I'd rather send the kids and stay in bed, but that would be wrong and I know I'll have a nice time.
Son of a bitch. I'll set a reminder on my calendar for Monday, maybe I can get my shit together by then.
~Kim
My positivity is waning.
Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to try to get yourself fired up every single day? To will a medication to be the answer?
It's fucking taxing and this motor has run out of gas.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it.
I've got thirteen days until the first thirty are in the books. I'm exasperated, really.
While I've done a few things and I am having more good days, I'm afraid they're self-inflicted and I'm not sure I can continue on.
For example, while I did take D and her friend swimming today at the local pool, I sat in bed until 11:00. I didn't want to go downstairs because I knew what my house looked like. I knew that I was going to have to fight the kids to get them to help do anything. I knew that I had no desire to do anything myself.
I did manage to throw in a load of laundry (crap gotta switch it to the dryer or it'll be stinky and I'll have to rewash it), but that's it.
I still haven't called the therapist that called me on the recommendation of my doctor. I'm not sure what's stopping me (shit, I just remembered something else I was supposed to do today! UGH!) because I KNOW I need that help, too. I just...I just can't make myself do it.
I'll be out tomorrow at a family thing. I'd rather send the kids and stay in bed, but that would be wrong and I know I'll have a nice time.
Son of a bitch. I'll set a reminder on my calendar for Monday, maybe I can get my shit together by then.
~Kim
Wednesday, July 12, 2017
I Promised Transparency...
...so here we go.
Yeah, I know it's STILL day...um...hang on...day...um...16 maybe...whatever. It's irrelevant.
I'm doing a lot of soul searching.
Trying to figure out what crappy habits need to go and what new habits need to be created is hard work.
Being honest with myself is hard as hell, too.
My drive to help the meds work is dwindling. Apparently, I can only be an optimist for so many consecutive days before I just say fuck it and go back to the old me. Not completely the old me, but a couple versions ahead. Maybe.
My brain fog has lifted some. My short term memory is still trash, but I'm assuming it'll come back around eventually. I can think more clearly. I can focus on things (most of the time) and give my full attention.
I'm still quick to anger. I still don't want to get out of bed about half the days of the week, but that's an improvement in itself. I still struggle to make myself take a shower. I still struggle to get off the couch to complete tasks about half the time. I go through energetic spurts where I get a shit load of stuff done and other days, not so much.
That last thing is really no different than before with the exception that they seem to happen more often than, say, once every 6 months. In 16 days, I've gotten a lot more done.
I'm NOT dealing with stress any better. I've got plenty of crappy stress rearing its ugly head and I just can't handle it. Where before, I would completely shut down, now...Well, I don't completely shut down. I'm trying so hard to keep functioning through it.
I'm sleeping better. I've noticed that my body is getting tired earlier and that I'm going to sleep at a decent hour. This in-turn allows me to awaken at a decent hour and not feel completely exhausted.
I've also noticed a change in my appetite. I'm eating less and not in a "I gotta get skinny" kind of way. In a passive way. You know, I'm not constantly eating. Smaller meals, smaller portions, and it's happening in a completely organic way.
Eventually, I want to transition to Keto, but that's down the line a bit (I tried last month, but I couldn't do it...stress eating is a bitch).
So there it is...A little over the halfway point and there's what's changed, what hasn't, and other random things.
~Kim
Yeah, I know it's STILL day...um...hang on...day...um...16 maybe...whatever. It's irrelevant.
I'm doing a lot of soul searching.
Trying to figure out what crappy habits need to go and what new habits need to be created is hard work.
Being honest with myself is hard as hell, too.
My drive to help the meds work is dwindling. Apparently, I can only be an optimist for so many consecutive days before I just say fuck it and go back to the old me. Not completely the old me, but a couple versions ahead. Maybe.
My brain fog has lifted some. My short term memory is still trash, but I'm assuming it'll come back around eventually. I can think more clearly. I can focus on things (most of the time) and give my full attention.
I'm still quick to anger. I still don't want to get out of bed about half the days of the week, but that's an improvement in itself. I still struggle to make myself take a shower. I still struggle to get off the couch to complete tasks about half the time. I go through energetic spurts where I get a shit load of stuff done and other days, not so much.
That last thing is really no different than before with the exception that they seem to happen more often than, say, once every 6 months. In 16 days, I've gotten a lot more done.
I'm NOT dealing with stress any better. I've got plenty of crappy stress rearing its ugly head and I just can't handle it. Where before, I would completely shut down, now...Well, I don't completely shut down. I'm trying so hard to keep functioning through it.
I'm sleeping better. I've noticed that my body is getting tired earlier and that I'm going to sleep at a decent hour. This in-turn allows me to awaken at a decent hour and not feel completely exhausted.
I've also noticed a change in my appetite. I'm eating less and not in a "I gotta get skinny" kind of way. In a passive way. You know, I'm not constantly eating. Smaller meals, smaller portions, and it's happening in a completely organic way.
Eventually, I want to transition to Keto, but that's down the line a bit (I tried last month, but I couldn't do it...stress eating is a bitch).
So there it is...A little over the halfway point and there's what's changed, what hasn't, and other random things.
~Kim
I Opened This...
yesterday to write a post.
It was day 15...Today is day 16.
My stress level is so high. I'm back to minimal functioning.
Did you ever have a person in your life that was just constantly on you for every single mistake you've made that they know of? You know, the type of person to remind you of the past and tell you you're doing it wrong in the present. They also tell you that whatever you're doing for the future won't work because of the past. Like the past is some kind of fucking blueprint that you have to follow.
As if you can never move forward because you've changed (or are trying to change).
Let me tell you something. You might move back and forth on the same landscape, but there is no need to follow the same footsteps. Now, normally, the footprints would slowly wear away if you didn't use them anymore, right? Imagine a person who constantly puts you back in those footsteps, even though you know they're not on the path you want to take.
I have a person like that in my life.
Yeah, I hear you telling me to cut this person out, but there are just somethings that I cannot do. That is one of them.
I'm working on blocking out the noise so that I can concentrate on what I want to achieve (and come back and be very "BOOYAH! I TOLD you I could! I'll accept your apology whenever you're ready.").
I'm learning how to prioritize. Boy, that's something else. I'm also trying to learn how to follow through, something that I've struggled with as long as I can remember.
That being said, I have accomplished a lot in the public eye, but someone else was holding me accountable and I couldn't let them know that sometimes I just can't even make it out of bed. I couldn't let the world know that I was battling depression. I don't want sympathy. Never did.
I didn't want anyone who was not in my inner circle to know what I was like behind closed doors.
Once, I drove to work and sat in the parking lot for fifteen minutes convincing myself to go in. The day after that, I stopped picking up jobs. I knew then that things were going to get much worse.
Now I'm trying to weed my way out of the mire and I keep getting shoved back in. Due to the fact that my life has been a mess for twenty years, I'm not able to change. Not able to get my shit in order. I'm incapable.
BULL SHIT!
I no longer feel responsible for someone's opinion of me, my mistakes, or my life choices. I have given myself permission to let go, ignore, or possibly fight back.
I'm empowering myself!
~Kim
It was day 15...Today is day 16.
My stress level is so high. I'm back to minimal functioning.
Did you ever have a person in your life that was just constantly on you for every single mistake you've made that they know of? You know, the type of person to remind you of the past and tell you you're doing it wrong in the present. They also tell you that whatever you're doing for the future won't work because of the past. Like the past is some kind of fucking blueprint that you have to follow.
As if you can never move forward because you've changed (or are trying to change).
Let me tell you something. You might move back and forth on the same landscape, but there is no need to follow the same footsteps. Now, normally, the footprints would slowly wear away if you didn't use them anymore, right? Imagine a person who constantly puts you back in those footsteps, even though you know they're not on the path you want to take.
I have a person like that in my life.
Yeah, I hear you telling me to cut this person out, but there are just somethings that I cannot do. That is one of them.
I'm working on blocking out the noise so that I can concentrate on what I want to achieve (and come back and be very "BOOYAH! I TOLD you I could! I'll accept your apology whenever you're ready.").
I'm learning how to prioritize. Boy, that's something else. I'm also trying to learn how to follow through, something that I've struggled with as long as I can remember.
That being said, I have accomplished a lot in the public eye, but someone else was holding me accountable and I couldn't let them know that sometimes I just can't even make it out of bed. I couldn't let the world know that I was battling depression. I don't want sympathy. Never did.
I didn't want anyone who was not in my inner circle to know what I was like behind closed doors.
Once, I drove to work and sat in the parking lot for fifteen minutes convincing myself to go in. The day after that, I stopped picking up jobs. I knew then that things were going to get much worse.
Now I'm trying to weed my way out of the mire and I keep getting shoved back in. Due to the fact that my life has been a mess for twenty years, I'm not able to change. Not able to get my shit in order. I'm incapable.
BULL SHIT!
I no longer feel responsible for someone's opinion of me, my mistakes, or my life choices. I have given myself permission to let go, ignore, or possibly fight back.
I'm empowering myself!
~Kim
Monday, July 10, 2017
So We're Going To Skip...
ahead a little bit.
It's day 14.
(My last post said day 11 and it was really day 10, I guess that's good that I'm losing track? Who knows)
We had a very busy weekend of travel baseball for K. I was so exhausted when we finally did get home each day that it was all I could do to change out of my clothes and go to bed.
We're in transition. A HUGE transition. A "buckle your seat belt because it's going to be a bumpy ride" transition.
I'm hopeful and terrified at the same time.
I had time to think about things this weekend while I was driving all over hell between hollering at the kids to keep their hands to themselves, telling them to knock off the fighting, and answering the "Are we there yet?" question a million and a half times.
I think we're finally in a good place. We're on the same page, the Patriarch and I.
While he's transitioning to a new job in the same field with a new company (after getting monumentally screwed by the previous one), we're talking about money.
Money has been my coping mechanism for everything that has stressed me out over the years. I haven't been able to rein in my spending. This has put us in ridiculous spots over the years, yet I've never changed.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I've changed a little. I used to spend out of spite. I would spend on the most ridiculous things on the planet. I blew money like I was (a much smarter, more considerate, and better looking) Donald Trump.
I kept up with the Joneses, the Smiths, the Appenbauckers, and everyone else on the planet. The weird thing is, it didn't matter. I didn't care if I had cooler things, it was simply a coping mechanism.
As they say, old habits are hard to break.
This is the first time the Patriarch and I have actually talked about how screwed up our money situation is. Today is the big day. We're going to lay out everything. (Mostly me because I run the finances) Time to come clean. Time to make changes. There's no reason that we shouldn't have a fat bank account (other that we're both impulsive as fuck) and no money worries.
He sacrifices a TON so we can have what we have, but there's so much more to it.
Anyhow, I'm crazily worried about this transition. I'm going to have to talk myself out of a lot of things like eating out all the time (laziness) and stupid unneeded crap (that just calls my name).
We're going to do it though. HAVE to do it. The kids are getting older and they're going to need our help to transition to their adult lives.
I'm hopeful. I feel better every single day. I still have to force myself to do things though. Stupid little things like take a shower or change out of my pajamas. Shoot, even putting dishes into the dishwasher (which is a ridiculously simple task) takes twenty minutes of cajoling.
Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. When I go to beat myself up about it later, I try to remind myself these shitty habits were not created over night so they will not be broken over night.
My short-term memory is still shit. I keep hoping it'll come back once the clouds have relatively cleared, but I'm starting to get cynical about that.
For example, the Patriarch keeps reminding me about a conversation we had last time he was home and I cannot remember it for the life of me and it was IMPORTANT! I mean, seriously, why can't I remember stuff?! UGH!
Now, I feel like it's gotten a little bit better, but still. I just want to be normal. Oh how I hate that word, but it's what I want, more than anything in the world.
Still waltzing steadily forward, even though I feel like I'm offbeat.
~Kim
It's day 14.
(My last post said day 11 and it was really day 10, I guess that's good that I'm losing track? Who knows)
We had a very busy weekend of travel baseball for K. I was so exhausted when we finally did get home each day that it was all I could do to change out of my clothes and go to bed.
We're in transition. A HUGE transition. A "buckle your seat belt because it's going to be a bumpy ride" transition.
I'm hopeful and terrified at the same time.
I had time to think about things this weekend while I was driving all over hell between hollering at the kids to keep their hands to themselves, telling them to knock off the fighting, and answering the "Are we there yet?" question a million and a half times.
I think we're finally in a good place. We're on the same page, the Patriarch and I.
While he's transitioning to a new job in the same field with a new company (after getting monumentally screwed by the previous one), we're talking about money.
Money has been my coping mechanism for everything that has stressed me out over the years. I haven't been able to rein in my spending. This has put us in ridiculous spots over the years, yet I've never changed.
Actually, that's not entirely true. I've changed a little. I used to spend out of spite. I would spend on the most ridiculous things on the planet. I blew money like I was (a much smarter, more considerate, and better looking) Donald Trump.
I kept up with the Joneses, the Smiths, the Appenbauckers, and everyone else on the planet. The weird thing is, it didn't matter. I didn't care if I had cooler things, it was simply a coping mechanism.
As they say, old habits are hard to break.
This is the first time the Patriarch and I have actually talked about how screwed up our money situation is. Today is the big day. We're going to lay out everything. (Mostly me because I run the finances) Time to come clean. Time to make changes. There's no reason that we shouldn't have a fat bank account (other that we're both impulsive as fuck) and no money worries.
He sacrifices a TON so we can have what we have, but there's so much more to it.
Anyhow, I'm crazily worried about this transition. I'm going to have to talk myself out of a lot of things like eating out all the time (laziness) and stupid unneeded crap (that just calls my name).
We're going to do it though. HAVE to do it. The kids are getting older and they're going to need our help to transition to their adult lives.
I'm hopeful. I feel better every single day. I still have to force myself to do things though. Stupid little things like take a shower or change out of my pajamas. Shoot, even putting dishes into the dishwasher (which is a ridiculously simple task) takes twenty minutes of cajoling.
Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose. When I go to beat myself up about it later, I try to remind myself these shitty habits were not created over night so they will not be broken over night.
My short-term memory is still shit. I keep hoping it'll come back once the clouds have relatively cleared, but I'm starting to get cynical about that.
For example, the Patriarch keeps reminding me about a conversation we had last time he was home and I cannot remember it for the life of me and it was IMPORTANT! I mean, seriously, why can't I remember stuff?! UGH!
Now, I feel like it's gotten a little bit better, but still. I just want to be normal. Oh how I hate that word, but it's what I want, more than anything in the world.
Still waltzing steadily forward, even though I feel like I'm offbeat.
~Kim
Thursday, July 6, 2017
I Suppose...
it's good that I'm having to look back to find out what day I'm on.
Today is day 11.
I have moved beyond yesterday's funk (thankfully).
I'm still stressed, but I'm trying to learn how to let go of the things that I can't control. Being a massive control freak, that is no small task.
We're in the middle of some big family changes and I'm fearful. That's the one thing that concerns me a little bit. Even though I've been battling depression, I've always been a "it will all work out" kind of gal.
Maybe it was out of sheer laziness. Maybe it was the depression that made it easier to just sit back and watch it unfold while fooling myself.
Truth be told, it doesn't always work out. Sometimes it just doesn't, but that's part of life. As a sitcom theme song once taught me, "You take the good. You take the bad. You take them both and there you have the facts of life." (Wow...I just dated the hell out of myself!)
I'm trying to learn how to put one foot in front of the other rather than just standing there and letting things happen to me or instead of racing forward so quickly it gets away from me.
I'm learning a lot about myself by writing every day. I've had to force myself a couple of times. I'm glad I did. I know that for a lot of people this is tedious to read, and readers have started falling off, but that's okay.
While I'm hoping that seeing my journey will help one person who needs it to make a move, this is for me.
~Kim
Today is day 11.
I have moved beyond yesterday's funk (thankfully).
I'm still stressed, but I'm trying to learn how to let go of the things that I can't control. Being a massive control freak, that is no small task.
We're in the middle of some big family changes and I'm fearful. That's the one thing that concerns me a little bit. Even though I've been battling depression, I've always been a "it will all work out" kind of gal.
Maybe it was out of sheer laziness. Maybe it was the depression that made it easier to just sit back and watch it unfold while fooling myself.
Truth be told, it doesn't always work out. Sometimes it just doesn't, but that's part of life. As a sitcom theme song once taught me, "You take the good. You take the bad. You take them both and there you have the facts of life." (Wow...I just dated the hell out of myself!)
I'm trying to learn how to put one foot in front of the other rather than just standing there and letting things happen to me or instead of racing forward so quickly it gets away from me.
I'm learning a lot about myself by writing every day. I've had to force myself a couple of times. I'm glad I did. I know that for a lot of people this is tedious to read, and readers have started falling off, but that's okay.
While I'm hoping that seeing my journey will help one person who needs it to make a move, this is for me.
~Kim
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
If There Was Ever...
...any question about whether this is a miracle cure or not. Last night and today answered that.
It's day 9.
I'm overwhelmed. Shit happened and I "can't even" right now.
Everything the kids are doing is annoying the ever-loving shit out of me. Even stuff that shouldn't.
I can't adult. I had to accept some help. I feel guilty. I'm also angry, sad, anxious, and depressed.
Mind over matter only lasts so long. Twenty-one more days will make the thirty in which I could be feeling the full effect of the meds.
I'm feeling hopeless, but it's not hopeless that this treatment is the right path. It's hopeless that I let things go wrong for so long in life that I'll never be able to fix them. The shit storms will keep coming and there's nothing that I can do about it. My molehills have become mountains again.
It's becoming more obvious to me that I cannot handle stress. I functioned today. I didn't want to, but I did anyhow. So, I guess that's something.
All I can think of right now is, "Fuck!"
~Kim
It's day 9.
I'm overwhelmed. Shit happened and I "can't even" right now.
Everything the kids are doing is annoying the ever-loving shit out of me. Even stuff that shouldn't.
I can't adult. I had to accept some help. I feel guilty. I'm also angry, sad, anxious, and depressed.
Mind over matter only lasts so long. Twenty-one more days will make the thirty in which I could be feeling the full effect of the meds.
I'm feeling hopeless, but it's not hopeless that this treatment is the right path. It's hopeless that I let things go wrong for so long in life that I'll never be able to fix them. The shit storms will keep coming and there's nothing that I can do about it. My molehills have become mountains again.
It's becoming more obvious to me that I cannot handle stress. I functioned today. I didn't want to, but I did anyhow. So, I guess that's something.
All I can think of right now is, "Fuck!"
~Kim
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
You Know You're...
...doing better when you can actually force yourself to do things!
Day 8 and here I am.
I didn't want to write a post. There's really nothing significant between yesterday's late afternoon post and today's.
The only thing that I really wish would change is my sleep pattern. I'm still waking up tired.
It's Independence Day. I'm sure there are BBQs and family gatherings all over the place, but my family doesn't have one anymore since my grandma passed away and the family pretty much all went its separate ways.
I hope you're enjoying the day with your family. Hopefully, next year at this time, I will have the wherewithal to put together my own gathering.
I didn't realize how lonely depression would leave me. I've turned down so many invitations to places that I rarely get invited anymore. I've made my friends have to work so hard to be my friend that I can't imagine what they say about me to their spouses and other friends who are normal functioning people.
Huh. There's something that I never would have realized. I guess forcing myself to write this post revealed something that was just below the surface.
Thanks to my friends who have worked so hard to stay a part of my life. I thought it was just the fact that our kids have grown up and we don't find ourselves in the same places (i.e. the little league baseball fields) anymore. I now realize how hard I have been to maintain any kind of friendship with.
Damn. I think I'll have a pity party today. Fireworks and all!
~Kim
Day 8 and here I am.
I didn't want to write a post. There's really nothing significant between yesterday's late afternoon post and today's.
The only thing that I really wish would change is my sleep pattern. I'm still waking up tired.
It's Independence Day. I'm sure there are BBQs and family gatherings all over the place, but my family doesn't have one anymore since my grandma passed away and the family pretty much all went its separate ways.
I hope you're enjoying the day with your family. Hopefully, next year at this time, I will have the wherewithal to put together my own gathering.
I didn't realize how lonely depression would leave me. I've turned down so many invitations to places that I rarely get invited anymore. I've made my friends have to work so hard to be my friend that I can't imagine what they say about me to their spouses and other friends who are normal functioning people.
Huh. There's something that I never would have realized. I guess forcing myself to write this post revealed something that was just below the surface.
Thanks to my friends who have worked so hard to stay a part of my life. I thought it was just the fact that our kids have grown up and we don't find ourselves in the same places (i.e. the little league baseball fields) anymore. I now realize how hard I have been to maintain any kind of friendship with.
Damn. I think I'll have a pity party today. Fireworks and all!
~Kim
Monday, July 3, 2017
Wow! Where Did...
...the day go?!
It's day 7 and I've been so busy all day that my post is coming a lot later than usual.
Between ensuring one of my teens is sufficiently punished, visiting with my mom, making sure that the youngest is thoroughly pissed at me, and letting the oldest sleep because he went on an overnight cleaning bender, it's been one hell of a day!
I just wrapped up doing some dishes and am contemplating what to cook for dinner. It's probably one of the fullest days I've had in a long time.
The kicker for me? I still want to get other stuff done today!
I am feeling a little tired, my sleep hasn't quite regulated yet. I'm still awake later than I want to be, but am getting out of bed at a decent hour. I'm hoping that will sort itself out as I learn how to let the stress of life go little by little.
That's happening!
Don't get me wrong, I still have a laundry list of things that need me to 'deal' with them, but I am not looking at that list and just shutting down. It's incredible. It's such a weird feeling.
It's freeing.
I'm still convincing myself to sort out some counseling so that I learn how to take the inevitable "bad days" that come. I will. It's hard to break the procrastination habit. I'm a habitual procrastinator. (Gee, wonder why I'm always stressed, huh?) I cannot even remember a time that I wasn't.
I believe that may be my biggest hump. Doing what needs to be done, before it absolutely positively has to be done or after it already should have been done. (Gee...what a novel concept.)
I still have messes to clean up. I still have kids to rewire because my habits have become theirs in a lot of cases. I still am doing the majority of it by myself (don't get me wrong, the Patriarch has just as much stress, if not more, as I have). Somehow, it no longer feels like a mountain that I cannot move. I can see the small rocks and mid-sized boulders that I can move. I don't see it all as one big problem rather than a bunch of little ones. My perspective has changed.
I'm not sure if it's the meds or if it's just the fact that I knew these things all along. Quite frankly, I think it's a combination of the two. The meds are allowing my brain to function more normally. Therefore, I can think about things individually rather than one big lump of suck.
I've been having thoughts of getting back to writing. I've got a few people who are awaiting my next book, and I think I may be able to get sorted out soon. This is a huge deal for me. I miss writing.
So there you have it. I feel human. I actually don't mind leaving my house. I'm making molehills out of mountains. Go me!
~Kim
It's day 7 and I've been so busy all day that my post is coming a lot later than usual.
Between ensuring one of my teens is sufficiently punished, visiting with my mom, making sure that the youngest is thoroughly pissed at me, and letting the oldest sleep because he went on an overnight cleaning bender, it's been one hell of a day!
I just wrapped up doing some dishes and am contemplating what to cook for dinner. It's probably one of the fullest days I've had in a long time.
The kicker for me? I still want to get other stuff done today!
I am feeling a little tired, my sleep hasn't quite regulated yet. I'm still awake later than I want to be, but am getting out of bed at a decent hour. I'm hoping that will sort itself out as I learn how to let the stress of life go little by little.
That's happening!
Don't get me wrong, I still have a laundry list of things that need me to 'deal' with them, but I am not looking at that list and just shutting down. It's incredible. It's such a weird feeling.
It's freeing.
I'm still convincing myself to sort out some counseling so that I learn how to take the inevitable "bad days" that come. I will. It's hard to break the procrastination habit. I'm a habitual procrastinator. (Gee, wonder why I'm always stressed, huh?) I cannot even remember a time that I wasn't.
I believe that may be my biggest hump. Doing what needs to be done, before it absolutely positively has to be done or after it already should have been done. (Gee...what a novel concept.)
I still have messes to clean up. I still have kids to rewire because my habits have become theirs in a lot of cases. I still am doing the majority of it by myself (don't get me wrong, the Patriarch has just as much stress, if not more, as I have). Somehow, it no longer feels like a mountain that I cannot move. I can see the small rocks and mid-sized boulders that I can move. I don't see it all as one big problem rather than a bunch of little ones. My perspective has changed.
I'm not sure if it's the meds or if it's just the fact that I knew these things all along. Quite frankly, I think it's a combination of the two. The meds are allowing my brain to function more normally. Therefore, I can think about things individually rather than one big lump of suck.
I've been having thoughts of getting back to writing. I've got a few people who are awaiting my next book, and I think I may be able to get sorted out soon. This is a huge deal for me. I miss writing.
So there you have it. I feel human. I actually don't mind leaving my house. I'm making molehills out of mountains. Go me!
~Kim
Sunday, July 2, 2017
Parenting In A...
...depressive state is hard.
It's day six. I'm impressed with myself. I have managed to remember to take my pill every morning.
That in itself is a monumental achievement, but I've had some other milestones.
Yesterday, I left my house.
I walked with the drama queen down to the local park to watch the fireworks. I even talked to people face to face.
I know, right?! It's a miracle!
Okay, that might be going a little far, but it's something. I always enjoy my time out of the house, but I have the hardest time making myself leave. This time, I didn't.
Hallelujah for small victories!
I even went preemptive and put my bursitis cream on my hip before we left so I wouldn't be writhing in pain the whole time we were gone. F.Y.I. the max on that is about four hours because I thought I was going to die by the time we got home last night. (And I still can't believe at 43 I have bursitis! What the hell?!)
This morning, I had to deal with a not so pleasant part of parenting. I was dreading it. I really was, but I handled it.
Now, my kid knows that I don't expect him to be perfect, but I do expect him to take ownership when he fucks up.
I don't freak out about stuff very often. I'm a pretty laid back parent. Usually, when I have the freak out moments, it's because one of the kids has decided to freak out themselves.
I had a moment like that this morning. After a calm conversation about what happened, why it was wrong, how my trust is blown at the moment, and the consequences, there was a moment when I asked for the phone (grounded 1 week from it) and he yelled "Stop rushing me!"
I looked at him, baffled that this child, who had just gotten into serious trouble, thought it was okay for him to yell at me regarding his punishment. He then threw said phone and punched the wall and yelled "This is bull shit!"
I sprang up and called him back and we went at it, but I noticed something. The feeling was different. I wasn't so mad I couldn't see straight. It was a controlled anger. I could control it. I didn't feel like I wanted to put his head into the wall. I backed down. I let him go and gather himself.
He did. He came back and asked if he could talk to me. And we did.
There were tears on both ends, but there was good conversation.
I feel like that was a big victory.
Huge.
Today, it will turn out okay. My hope is regenerated.
~Kim
It's day six. I'm impressed with myself. I have managed to remember to take my pill every morning.
That in itself is a monumental achievement, but I've had some other milestones.
Yesterday, I left my house.
I walked with the drama queen down to the local park to watch the fireworks. I even talked to people face to face.
I know, right?! It's a miracle!
Okay, that might be going a little far, but it's something. I always enjoy my time out of the house, but I have the hardest time making myself leave. This time, I didn't.
Hallelujah for small victories!
I even went preemptive and put my bursitis cream on my hip before we left so I wouldn't be writhing in pain the whole time we were gone. F.Y.I. the max on that is about four hours because I thought I was going to die by the time we got home last night. (And I still can't believe at 43 I have bursitis! What the hell?!)
This morning, I had to deal with a not so pleasant part of parenting. I was dreading it. I really was, but I handled it.
Now, my kid knows that I don't expect him to be perfect, but I do expect him to take ownership when he fucks up.
I don't freak out about stuff very often. I'm a pretty laid back parent. Usually, when I have the freak out moments, it's because one of the kids has decided to freak out themselves.
I had a moment like that this morning. After a calm conversation about what happened, why it was wrong, how my trust is blown at the moment, and the consequences, there was a moment when I asked for the phone (grounded 1 week from it) and he yelled "Stop rushing me!"
I looked at him, baffled that this child, who had just gotten into serious trouble, thought it was okay for him to yell at me regarding his punishment. He then threw said phone and punched the wall and yelled "This is bull shit!"
I sprang up and called him back and we went at it, but I noticed something. The feeling was different. I wasn't so mad I couldn't see straight. It was a controlled anger. I could control it. I didn't feel like I wanted to put his head into the wall. I backed down. I let him go and gather himself.
He did. He came back and asked if he could talk to me. And we did.
There were tears on both ends, but there was good conversation.
I feel like that was a big victory.
Huge.
Today, it will turn out okay. My hope is regenerated.
~Kim
Saturday, July 1, 2017
You've GOT To Be...
...kidding me!
So, I'm sitting here on my couch, surveying my (modest) kingdom (why the hell is it called kingdom anyhow? Everyone knows the queen rules it all!) and I notice something.
At first, I thought it was a cobweb...I mean, with my cleaning style it's completely plausible. Then I looked closer.
Nope. Not a cobweb.
My kids have slammed the front door so much they've actually separated the paint from the wall.
No. Really. They have!
I'm constantly saying, "Don't slam the door!" Apparently, it's not working.
They're very literally breaking my house apart piece by piece.
I wonder if locking them in the house for a week will get my point across...Or make me need a drink or twelve.
~Kim
So, I'm sitting here on my couch, surveying my (modest) kingdom (why the hell is it called kingdom anyhow? Everyone knows the queen rules it all!) and I notice something.
At first, I thought it was a cobweb...I mean, with my cleaning style it's completely plausible. Then I looked closer.
Nope. Not a cobweb.
My kids have slammed the front door so much they've actually separated the paint from the wall.
No. Really. They have!
I'm constantly saying, "Don't slam the door!" Apparently, it's not working.
They're very literally breaking my house apart piece by piece.
I wonder if locking them in the house for a week will get my point across...Or make me need a drink or twelve.
~Kim
Are You As Tired...
...of this as I am?
It's day five. It's so funny, I keep expecting to just wake up one morning and feel right. Now, the intellectual side of me knows this is bull shit and it doesn't work like that, but the dreamer side of me has an image of how I want things to go.
I'm currently listening to Rose Madder by Stephen King on Audible. (Stop it! I can hear you!) It's really interesting because I'm really identifying with Rose's inner dialogue. She has a voice she calls "Practical-Sensible" and I have that voice too. She has it because she's fleeing from an abusive marriage. I have the same voice, only mine keeps me grounded.
Being grounded is a hard thing for me. I have a tendency to build lofty goals (only to fail usually). My creative mind, the same one I use to write, likes to build my ego up, then "Practical-Sensible" shows up and grapples me back down to earth. Usually, within a few days, and sometimes even immediately.
"Practical-Sensible" reminds me of all the research that I have done on depression, depression medications, therapy, and recovery. She reminds me that there is no miracle cure. She reminds me that depression isn't something I can control. She also reminds me that if I don't find a therapist, the best drugs on Earth can't help me. She reminds me that recovery takes time, energy, and change.
On occasion, I've been known to stifle her, but I'm coming to the realization that I can't.
Well, I shouldn't.
If I didn't have that "Practical-Sensible" voice in my head, my kids would be introverts, wallowing with me in my depression. That voice came into existence when I needed to pick myself by the boot straps (as so many people have told me over the years) for my kids. When I needed to make doctors' appointments, when I needed to advocate for my special needs kid, when I had to wake up every morning and drag myself out of bed and take the kids to school, I needed her to keep me grounded then and she continues to keep me grounded now.
So, I guess I should thank Stephen King for giving an identity for one of the voices in my head that has helped me function.
Who knew a prolific author of horror novels was such a scholar of the human condition?
~Kim
It's day five. It's so funny, I keep expecting to just wake up one morning and feel right. Now, the intellectual side of me knows this is bull shit and it doesn't work like that, but the dreamer side of me has an image of how I want things to go.
I'm currently listening to Rose Madder by Stephen King on Audible. (Stop it! I can hear you!) It's really interesting because I'm really identifying with Rose's inner dialogue. She has a voice she calls "Practical-Sensible" and I have that voice too. She has it because she's fleeing from an abusive marriage. I have the same voice, only mine keeps me grounded.
Being grounded is a hard thing for me. I have a tendency to build lofty goals (only to fail usually). My creative mind, the same one I use to write, likes to build my ego up, then "Practical-Sensible" shows up and grapples me back down to earth. Usually, within a few days, and sometimes even immediately.
"Practical-Sensible" reminds me of all the research that I have done on depression, depression medications, therapy, and recovery. She reminds me that there is no miracle cure. She reminds me that depression isn't something I can control. She also reminds me that if I don't find a therapist, the best drugs on Earth can't help me. She reminds me that recovery takes time, energy, and change.
On occasion, I've been known to stifle her, but I'm coming to the realization that I can't.
Well, I shouldn't.
If I didn't have that "Practical-Sensible" voice in my head, my kids would be introverts, wallowing with me in my depression. That voice came into existence when I needed to pick myself by the boot straps (as so many people have told me over the years) for my kids. When I needed to make doctors' appointments, when I needed to advocate for my special needs kid, when I had to wake up every morning and drag myself out of bed and take the kids to school, I needed her to keep me grounded then and she continues to keep me grounded now.
So, I guess I should thank Stephen King for giving an identity for one of the voices in my head that has helped me function.
Who knew a prolific author of horror novels was such a scholar of the human condition?
~Kim
Friday, June 30, 2017
Dun duh...
...duuuuuuuuuuuuuun!
Now that I have your attention, I'd like to remind you that it's day four.
Yesterday was a good day. I got a lot done, I felt accomplished, and I tried to keep it going.
So far today, I'm nonplussed. I woke up tired. Everything my daughter says to me is irritating. The stresses of every day life are sneaking back in.
In other words, the newness has worn off.
Don't get me wrong, I still have hope for the future, but the reality that even "normal" people have bad days is lurking. I don't want to have bad days, but I want to have good days.
As my wise husband says (I totally need a sarcasm font), "You can't have good days if you don't have bad days." The philosopher of my life.
Just typing that makes me want to smack him upside the head. Not even because his little quips of wisdom come at annoying times, but mostly because he's right. And now I want to smack myself upside the head because I just typed an admission of my husband actually being right.
Anyhow, he's right. (Damn it. I said it again.)
Today is a down day. It's alright. I mean I'm four days into a medication that probably takes a month to build up in my system to proper levels.
The mission next week is to find a therapist. I need to find someone to help me cope with all of the stress of every day life. Someone who can help me cope with the kids, money, and life without shutting down the minute I feel overwhelmed.
We've got to travel tonight for baseball. Generally, the only reason I leave my house; a kids' activity.
It's alright. I'll do it, like I always do. Hopefully, I can get a nap today and maybe find a little more energy.
Keep trudging forward. Life looms around every corner. I want to live it.
~Kim
Now that I have your attention, I'd like to remind you that it's day four.
Yesterday was a good day. I got a lot done, I felt accomplished, and I tried to keep it going.
So far today, I'm nonplussed. I woke up tired. Everything my daughter says to me is irritating. The stresses of every day life are sneaking back in.
In other words, the newness has worn off.
Don't get me wrong, I still have hope for the future, but the reality that even "normal" people have bad days is lurking. I don't want to have bad days, but I want to have good days.
As my wise husband says (I totally need a sarcasm font), "You can't have good days if you don't have bad days." The philosopher of my life.
Just typing that makes me want to smack him upside the head. Not even because his little quips of wisdom come at annoying times, but mostly because he's right. And now I want to smack myself upside the head because I just typed an admission of my husband actually being right.
Anyhow, he's right. (Damn it. I said it again.)
Today is a down day. It's alright. I mean I'm four days into a medication that probably takes a month to build up in my system to proper levels.
The mission next week is to find a therapist. I need to find someone to help me cope with all of the stress of every day life. Someone who can help me cope with the kids, money, and life without shutting down the minute I feel overwhelmed.
We've got to travel tonight for baseball. Generally, the only reason I leave my house; a kids' activity.
It's alright. I'll do it, like I always do. Hopefully, I can get a nap today and maybe find a little more energy.
Keep trudging forward. Life looms around every corner. I want to live it.
~Kim
Thursday, June 29, 2017
I'm either having...
...a really good day (yes I have those without meds) or I'm feeling the energy my doc told me I might see.
Either way, I'll take it!
The funny thing is, I've got nothing to do today. Really, I don't have to leave the house today if I don't want to.
I really don't want to and that's okay.
It's day 3.
I'm proud of myself for one thing...I have remembered to take it every morning!
My depression is so severe that it has affected my short term memory. I can't remember shit. I tell the same stories over and over to the same people. Someone will tell me something and five minutes later I will ask them about the subject like it's a completely new development. I will tell someone that I'm going to do something and then completely forget about it if I don't put it in my calendar immediately (which I constantly forget to do!).
I want to feel "normal" (good grief I hate that word, but in this case it seems necessary) so badly that I've strategically placed my pill bottle so it's the first thing that I see in the morning.
Here's a small example of how I'm feeling today as opposed to four days ago.
I went grocery shopping. I bought a cantaloupe. It sat on my counter for four days. Every time I was asked to cut it I gave the cursory, "In a minute" response. Surprise. Surprise. It never got cut.
I woke up this morning. I was asked to cut the cantaloupe (and the watermelon that had been sitting there since Saturday (for those keeping score, today is Thursday) and I gave the cursory "In a minute" response. Surprise! I got off my butt a few minutes later and cut them both.
Some people will look at this and see the ridiculousness in the fact that I couldn't even manage to cut up fruit. Others will look at this for what it is: a small victory in the grand scheme of things.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring! Maybe I'll wash, dry, fold, and put away a load of laundry! The possibilities are endless.
Today, I cut the fruit!
~Kim
Either way, I'll take it!
The funny thing is, I've got nothing to do today. Really, I don't have to leave the house today if I don't want to.
I really don't want to and that's okay.
It's day 3.
I'm proud of myself for one thing...I have remembered to take it every morning!
My depression is so severe that it has affected my short term memory. I can't remember shit. I tell the same stories over and over to the same people. Someone will tell me something and five minutes later I will ask them about the subject like it's a completely new development. I will tell someone that I'm going to do something and then completely forget about it if I don't put it in my calendar immediately (which I constantly forget to do!).
I want to feel "normal" (good grief I hate that word, but in this case it seems necessary) so badly that I've strategically placed my pill bottle so it's the first thing that I see in the morning.
Here's a small example of how I'm feeling today as opposed to four days ago.
I went grocery shopping. I bought a cantaloupe. It sat on my counter for four days. Every time I was asked to cut it I gave the cursory, "In a minute" response. Surprise. Surprise. It never got cut.
I woke up this morning. I was asked to cut the cantaloupe (and the watermelon that had been sitting there since Saturday (for those keeping score, today is Thursday) and I gave the cursory "In a minute" response. Surprise! I got off my butt a few minutes later and cut them both.
Some people will look at this and see the ridiculousness in the fact that I couldn't even manage to cut up fruit. Others will look at this for what it is: a small victory in the grand scheme of things.
Who knows what tomorrow will bring! Maybe I'll wash, dry, fold, and put away a load of laundry! The possibilities are endless.
Today, I cut the fruit!
~Kim
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
So, Now It's...
...day two.
No new news to report.
I'm not surprised, I didn't expect there to be anything.
I did have to explain to someone close to me that changes weren't going to happen overnight. When I was asked, "Do you feel any different?" I had to concede that I did not indeed feel different.
I wanted to feel different, but I knew I wouldn't. Still, saying it out loud felt like defeat. It bled into my hope.
I've spent most of my life being a realist. Okay, that's a lie. I spent most of my life being a dreamer. I dreamt of the things I could do or could be if I could just make myself do this, that, or the other. If I could just make myself get out of bed with a smile on my face and set goals, I could accomplish anything.
I believed, for a couple of decades, that I could beat depression if I set my mind to it. You know, the mind that's sabotaging me at every turn.
The mind that's giving me these wonderful ideas that I could be a successful writer. The mind that says, "You could be a great baker! You should open a bakery!" The mind that says, "You absolutely SHOULD do this, because you'd be a huge success! You're special!"
The mind that the next day says, "Are you sure you even want to get out of bed?" The mind that tells me that showers are too much work. The mind that tells me that it's just too much work to be successful, eat a cookie.
My mind knows that I should be taking the dog for walks every day, but won't allow me to get my ass off the couch because it takes effort. The mind that deals with stress and tasks by being overwhelmed and doing nothing.
I worried for a long time that getting treatment for depression would take away my creativity. It is almost as if I am addicted to depression. Much in the same way an alcoholic says, "I can quit any time I want to," yet can't refuse a beer. The way an addict's body wants something; drugs, alcohol, or even food, my body is so used to being depressed that it is afraid to be anything else.
I clinging to hope. Hope is all I have.
~Kim
No new news to report.
I'm not surprised, I didn't expect there to be anything.
I did have to explain to someone close to me that changes weren't going to happen overnight. When I was asked, "Do you feel any different?" I had to concede that I did not indeed feel different.
I wanted to feel different, but I knew I wouldn't. Still, saying it out loud felt like defeat. It bled into my hope.
I've spent most of my life being a realist. Okay, that's a lie. I spent most of my life being a dreamer. I dreamt of the things I could do or could be if I could just make myself do this, that, or the other. If I could just make myself get out of bed with a smile on my face and set goals, I could accomplish anything.
I believed, for a couple of decades, that I could beat depression if I set my mind to it. You know, the mind that's sabotaging me at every turn.
The mind that's giving me these wonderful ideas that I could be a successful writer. The mind that says, "You could be a great baker! You should open a bakery!" The mind that says, "You absolutely SHOULD do this, because you'd be a huge success! You're special!"
The mind that the next day says, "Are you sure you even want to get out of bed?" The mind that tells me that showers are too much work. The mind that tells me that it's just too much work to be successful, eat a cookie.
My mind knows that I should be taking the dog for walks every day, but won't allow me to get my ass off the couch because it takes effort. The mind that deals with stress and tasks by being overwhelmed and doing nothing.
I worried for a long time that getting treatment for depression would take away my creativity. It is almost as if I am addicted to depression. Much in the same way an alcoholic says, "I can quit any time I want to," yet can't refuse a beer. The way an addict's body wants something; drugs, alcohol, or even food, my body is so used to being depressed that it is afraid to be anything else.
I clinging to hope. Hope is all I have.
~Kim
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Today is the day..
...that my life begins (hopefully) a transformation.
I've battled depression for as long as I can remember. Literally, I cannot remember a time where there wasn't something at least nagging at the back of my mind, even on the "good days".
Today, I popped my first pill.
After my doctor's visit yesterday (the first one in at least 20 years that didn't have to do with childbirth), I went to pick up my prescription.
Now, for me, I've never had any thoughts of suicide or how my family would be better without me.
For me, my kids were my life line. They were the reason that I kept going. I knew they needed me, even if it was a shitty version of me.
I'm ever so thankful for them. They saved my life 100 times over, I'm sure.
So, this first day, I have hope. I have hope that getting out of bed every day won't always be a chore. I have hope that somewhere down the line, I can get into the shower every day. I have hope that I can find my social personality again. I have hope that I can learn to handle stress and find coping mechanisms that are healthier. I have hope that the act of function is no longer mentally painful every day. Hope that I can control my emotions instead of letting them control me.
I know I won't see a difference for a while. As my doc said "It's not a miracle pill," but it's given me something I haven't had in a long time.
Hope.
Depression takes on many forms. There are some people who will read this that know me and will be shocked.
"I had no idea! You always seem so happy and confident!"
It's like anything else in life, you learn when you need to hide it and when it's okay to let it out.
I'm going to try to post for the next 30 days about how I'm feeling and thinking. I want to see my own transformation, the good and the bad, and I'm hoping these posts will reach someone who needs to see them.
Here's to hope!
~Kim
I've battled depression for as long as I can remember. Literally, I cannot remember a time where there wasn't something at least nagging at the back of my mind, even on the "good days".
Today, I popped my first pill.
After my doctor's visit yesterday (the first one in at least 20 years that didn't have to do with childbirth), I went to pick up my prescription.
Now, for me, I've never had any thoughts of suicide or how my family would be better without me.
For me, my kids were my life line. They were the reason that I kept going. I knew they needed me, even if it was a shitty version of me.
I'm ever so thankful for them. They saved my life 100 times over, I'm sure.
So, this first day, I have hope. I have hope that getting out of bed every day won't always be a chore. I have hope that somewhere down the line, I can get into the shower every day. I have hope that I can find my social personality again. I have hope that I can learn to handle stress and find coping mechanisms that are healthier. I have hope that the act of function is no longer mentally painful every day. Hope that I can control my emotions instead of letting them control me.
I know I won't see a difference for a while. As my doc said "It's not a miracle pill," but it's given me something I haven't had in a long time.
Hope.
Depression takes on many forms. There are some people who will read this that know me and will be shocked.
"I had no idea! You always seem so happy and confident!"
It's like anything else in life, you learn when you need to hide it and when it's okay to let it out.
I'm going to try to post for the next 30 days about how I'm feeling and thinking. I want to see my own transformation, the good and the bad, and I'm hoping these posts will reach someone who needs to see them.
Here's to hope!
~Kim
Sunday, April 9, 2017
I Really Don't...
fit in anywhere.
Really, I don't.
First off, hello again! It's been a while. Trying to do anything right now is a challenge, an uphill battle. Today, though, I'm winning, so here I am.
I thought about this a lot recently. I don't fit anywhere. I'm a 40 something mom with three kids. One just decided to up and become an adult on me this past February, the second decided it was legal driving age for him just today, and the third...Holy shit...the third is going to be the one who puts me in an early grave. The pre-teen hell she's putting me through better not be a precursor of things to come!
If you're doing the math, that's quite a spread between my kids. I fall between the older moms of kids my oldest's age and the younger moms of kids my youngest's age.
Now don't get me wrong, there's a few moms my age that fall into having kids in these age ranges, but their lives are very different than mine.
There's nothing wrong there, we're all built differently. I'm not who I was twenty years ago. Twenty years ago I was out-going, social, and very very busy.
Sorry, had to run for a moment, the Patriarch came running upstairs yelling about the basement flooding...But that is for another post.
Anyhow, I'm not sure when it crept in, but it did creep.
I had plans of being the mom who baked the cookies with the neatly appointed house. The PTA mom who volunteered for everything. The "soccer mom" who hosted team meals at her house. The cool mom who went out for drinks with her other mom friends. The responsible mom that everyone was jealous of.
Yep, I wanted to be all of those things. Instead, I'm aloof, lonely (self-induced), and depressed.
I've decided I've had enough and, hopefully, the next month I can work on getting it straightened out. I miss the old me, but I still don't think I will fit in with the "mom mold" of this era. It's just not who I am.
The coolest thing about that is that it's okay. There might be times where I lament it, but in the end, it really is okay.
~Kim
Really, I don't.
First off, hello again! It's been a while. Trying to do anything right now is a challenge, an uphill battle. Today, though, I'm winning, so here I am.
I thought about this a lot recently. I don't fit anywhere. I'm a 40 something mom with three kids. One just decided to up and become an adult on me this past February, the second decided it was legal driving age for him just today, and the third...Holy shit...the third is going to be the one who puts me in an early grave. The pre-teen hell she's putting me through better not be a precursor of things to come!
If you're doing the math, that's quite a spread between my kids. I fall between the older moms of kids my oldest's age and the younger moms of kids my youngest's age.
Now don't get me wrong, there's a few moms my age that fall into having kids in these age ranges, but their lives are very different than mine.
There's nothing wrong there, we're all built differently. I'm not who I was twenty years ago. Twenty years ago I was out-going, social, and very very busy.
Sorry, had to run for a moment, the Patriarch came running upstairs yelling about the basement flooding...But that is for another post.
Anyhow, I'm not sure when it crept in, but it did creep.
I had plans of being the mom who baked the cookies with the neatly appointed house. The PTA mom who volunteered for everything. The "soccer mom" who hosted team meals at her house. The cool mom who went out for drinks with her other mom friends. The responsible mom that everyone was jealous of.
Yep, I wanted to be all of those things. Instead, I'm aloof, lonely (self-induced), and depressed.
I've decided I've had enough and, hopefully, the next month I can work on getting it straightened out. I miss the old me, but I still don't think I will fit in with the "mom mold" of this era. It's just not who I am.
The coolest thing about that is that it's okay. There might be times where I lament it, but in the end, it really is okay.
~Kim
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)