Friends?

I've been blogging AWOL. No blogging. No reading blogs.

Instead I have been trying to be more present in the real world. Whatever that means.

I've been making an effort to make some friends. Real ones. Actual people living in the actual world.
This is something new for me, because for nearly twenty years I haven't really had any friends.

I was actually pretty okay with just having online "friends" but then it started to seem that it probably wasn't healthy to live that way. The peril of seeking a degree with a focus in psychology is that you actually start to think about that psychological bullshit in terms of your own life.

Anyway...

I managed to make several acquaintances but not really friends. Recently though I have kind of managed to turn one or two of the acquaintanceships (is that a word? i don't care, i like it) into minor friendships. The kind of friendships where you actually get together and do stuff with each other. You know, like go out to dinner or stop by for coffee.

So a couple of weeks ago I went to one of my new friend's house for coffee and to talk about books. She was also going to loan me some books from her library. It is actually two bookshelves in her basement, but if she want to call it a library I am not one to rain on her literary parade. She tells me about a few books and I pick a few that sound interesting.

Then she hands me a book that she says in one of her husband's books and tells me, "It is a dry, twisted sort of humor that I found kind of mean. You should read it, I think you'll really like it."
Ummmmmm..... thanks? Does this mean I am twisted and have a mean sense of humor?

Okay, so I did really like the book. and yes, I do actually have a dry, twisted, and occasionally cruel sense of humor. Actually the fact that she realizes these things about me and still wants to be friends is kinda cool to me. I am not into being fake, so.... take me as I am or piss off. It is good to have people who are willing to take me as I am.

I just might make it in the real world.

Cry

Most days I do pretty well. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally.

Then there are the days in which I just want to cry. Nothing really happens to bring it on. No major tragedies have struck. Nothing has changed.

It is internal.

My heart, my soul is too full and it feels as though it must overflow. This overflowing comes in the form of a downpour of tears. The tears are healing. They renew me. They put me back in balance.

However, until they flow I feel heavy. Burdened. I am simply too full.

Full of what I do not know.

I only know that there is too much of something, maybe everything, inside of me and it must be released.

Today is one of those days. The weight of it all... whether all equals nothing, something, or everything... is too much to bear. It is crushing me from the inside out. I feel heavy. My heart. My soul. My body. My mind. My emotions. Every inch of me is burdened with this weight.

There is too much and it is crushing me.

I need release.

I need to cry and cry and cry until there are no more tears. No more heaviness. No more burden. No more of anything left to make me feel this way.

Another burden piles upon it all though. The burden of holding it all together. Keeping it all inside. Because no one can see this release. It is personal. It is too much for those I love and care about to witness. And so I keep the weight inside. I carry the burden and hold in the tears. I protect those I love from seeing me fall apart.

My heart and soul continue to be crushed under this weight. Until...

Until I can find time. Precious time. Time to be alone and let go. Let go the burden. Let go the crushing weight that is sucking me down further and further into madness. Until I can set myself free.

If only that time would come.

Until then....

I just want to cry.

My grandma went to heaven and all i got was this lousy late penalty

Here I am avoiding course work. I shouldn't be avoiding more than usual. It is late. Really late. Some of it was due Friday and some was due Sunday... today is Monday. I get a 10% deduction for each day late. So the Friday assignment is essentially fucked.

My grandma died last week. You can save the "i am so sorry for your loss" stuff. She was over a hundered years old so it wasn't really a shocker. Her quality of life was pretty shit at that point so death was likely a blessing. But the real reason to save the sympathy for me is because I didn't really know her. I could probably count on my fingers the number of times I actually recall having seen her. She was not one of those warm, fuzzy grandmas. She was basically just the woman who gave birth to my father. For that I am greatful because he is a great guy despite having been raised by her.

Anyway.... for my dad's sake I went to my grandmothers funeral. It meant driving five hours to get there on Thursday. Then there was all the time spent at the funeral and then drivin to the cemetary which was in a completely different town than the funeral so it was another 40mins or so just gettting there then standing in the cold and rain and then 40mins back to town. Then the pot-luck (or in this case pot-unlucky) lunch at the church. It ate up a large chunk of Friday. Then of course the rest of the weekend was spent spending time with family i have not seen in a long time and then the five hour drive home.

In the middle of all that I needed to get my course work done. It didn't happen. So now I should be doing it so I can get at least partial credit, but my mind is just not in it. I cannot concentrate so reading is not effective at all. I get to the end of a page and I remember nothing that I just read. I can't really write the papers if I don't retain the info from the chapters. So seriously.... I am just fucked right now in regard to these assignments.

I am so over this whole school thing anyway. I only have a couple of months left but I wish I were done now. I am burnt out. I am just over it!

Escapism?

Society pushes and pressures us to do more, to be more. It asks questions like...

what have you done to improve the world?

what have you done for others?

what have you done to better yourself?

what are you doing to make the most of your time?

It fills us with idea like...

you must be accomplished to be truly happy.

you must work on changing your negative traits.

you must be thin.

you must be active.

you must be involved in society in some way through activities and service.

I ask...

WHY?!?

Is there anything wrong with the fact that I am quite happy to just stay home and not be involved?

Is there anything wrong with the fact that I do not want to improve myself?

Is there anything wrong with the fact that I actually enjoy laying around the house in sweats and a tshirt watching movies?

Do I really have to be involved in something to be happy?

Do I really have to socialize with others to be happy?

Do I really need to try and change myself or the world to justify my existence?

I really am happiest when I am just comfortable being myself and yes, that means wearing sweats, laying on the couch, and watching a good movie or my favorite tv show.

Is there something wrong with that?

Is it escapsim? Am I trying to avoid "the real world" by getting lost in a movie?

Or is it just that I enjoy watching movies more than making crafts or exercising or going to lunch with friends or playing some type of sport, or playing bunko, or sitting in the park with other moms, or volunteering at the school or the church, or doing one of the million other things that women do to spend their time?

Is it an escape from reality? Or is my reality just that this is what makes me happy?

Is it wrong that this is what makes me happy?

Is it wrong that I do not have the drive to do more?

Is it wrong that I am content to be entertained rather than driven to change myself or the world?

I do wonder if this is escapism. but I also wonder why I shouldn't be allowed to just do what makes me happy without society telling me that it makes me worthless. If it doesn't hurt anyone then why should it be wrong?

So.... is it an escape from reality? or is it just my reality?

Upward

The depression is starting to lift. I am beginning to function more and more. I find myself sleeping less and doing more. Still not where I should be, and definitely not where I need to be, but it is coming.

I am actually looking forward to Christmas. I think that helps. The holidays can be depressing for some people, but I have a lot to be thankful for and so I enjoy them. We may not have a lot of money, but we have each other. Seems like a weird thing for me to say doesn't it? I am not really talking about Hub so much, although this time of year always makes him happy and more family oriented. He smiles and laughs and engages with us all. It is a tiny Christmas miracle. Mostly though, I am referring to my children. I actually like having them out of school for two weeks and home with me. (well, except the days I have to share Dot and Sonny with their father) Christmas seems to be the one time of year that even the teenagers don't mind being around family and have smiles on their faces most of the time. At six years old, Tot is just a joy to be around this time of year. The lights, the decorations, the music, the holiday treats, the anticipation of the big day... it is all reflected like magic in his big, brown eyes.

I managed to get my shit together and get the party for the homeless kids all organized and it went well. I was holding back tears when Santa came in and the kids were running to hug him with such excitement. One of the best parts of the party for the kids and their parents was getting a picture with Santa. I was amazed to see how excited they were as they crammed themselves around the printer waiting for their picture to be the one to come out. It was a very cherished treasure for them.

Perspective! When I feel like I have nothing I need only to see how much the little things really mean. I take picture of my kids all the time. I guess I never really stopped to think about what it would be like to not have a camera to capture their childhoods. No way to preserve the image a smile with missing teeth or look of shock over catching a fly ball for the first time.

So yes... my depression is lifting. I think a good part of it is Christmas. It is feeling the joy love of family. It is helping other families to find some of that joy and love as well. Sure there is plenty I could be depressed about, but there is also plenty in which I can rejoice.

Merry Christmas faithful reader(s)! I hope you experience a little joy and love as you too make the climb up from your own rocks.

Nothing

Years ago, during my first marriage, I suffered from depression. While my life has been full of plenty of stressors and depressing things, I have not actually slipped back into the hell of clinical depression again. Not until now. I see the signs and they are big, flashing neon monstrosities.

All I want to do is sleep or lie in bed. I absolutely hate getting out of bed. I wake up long enough to get the kids to school and then I come home and either crawl back in bed or curl up on the couch and go to sleep.

I have no desire to do my school work. I had a paper due yesterday that I should be writing this very minute so that I only lose 10% of my score. I do not want to write it. I just don't feel like it. I don't even feel like writing here but I made myself, thinking that it would get my brain fired up and then maybe I could make myself write the paper for class. I am struggling with getting my school work done lately. I just don't want to do any of it. It would mean doing something and all I want to do is nothing. Nothing! I did manage to do one assignment today that was due on Saturday. Two days late for a 20% deduction. This will be my worst grade ever. I don't even care. I wouldn't care if I failed at this point (except i would lose my grant) because I feel as though this degree isn't going to get me anywhere anyway. It is the depression talking, I know it.

I am avoiding speaking to or seeing everyone I know. I try not to leave the house. I even hate having to go to the store to pick up milk. I decide I don't feel well enough to go to church and then I feel even worse because I didn't go. I am supposed to be helping plan a Christmas party for the kids in the homeless shelter and I have seriously slacked off on that. How terrible a person am I that I would put off doing that?!? I cannot make myself call the woman at the shelter to make the final arrangements. I don't want to talk to anyone. I was supposed to be contacting nursing homes about a group of women and kids from the church visiting and spending time with the folks living there as well as doing some caroling. Okay, I thought that sounded stupid from the beginning, but I let myself be put in charge of it and I haven't done it. No way is it going to actually end up happening now. I am a terrible person because I let myself get talked into volunteering for these things and then I am just not mentally fit to follow through. I suck!

That makes me even more depressed!

I dropped Tot off at Kindergarten at nine this morning, came home and slept on the couch until eleven. I have been awake for an hour and a half now and I want to go back to bed and stay there until three when it is time to get around to picking him up again.

The house is a mess. Laundry and dishes need done. The bathroom is gross! It really needs a good cleaning. Why can't I get up and do these things? Why do I just want to lie down and do nothing? I do nothing and I feel like I am nothing.

I Knew THAT Already

One of the classes I am currently enrolled in is The Psychology of Human Sexuality. (ya, it is interesting given the history of being married to a sex addict)

As I was reading the textbook today I came across this little gem:

"it may be a sign of an adjustment problem if people use masturbation as an exclusive sexual outlet when they have opportunities for sexual relationships."

oh gee, ya think?!? Tell me something I don't know!

I'm OK With That

I've discovered something. Something important.

I do not want to read about sex addiction. I do not want to read about triggers. I do not want to read the sad tales of women dealing with all that comes along with loving a man who is a sex addict.

I may be selfish.

I may be avoiding.

I may be a lot of things, but one thing I am not is in the mood for all the drama.

I have cut a great deal of drama out of my life by just letting go of it all. I do not talk about it. I do not think about it. If there are signs I choose not to see them. If there is some sort of trigger I avoid it and find a distraction.

I don't want to feel the way I did those years after discovering Hub's big, ugly, horrible, life-altering secret. Those were horrible times and I don't want to feel horrible.

Am I happy? Not always.
Is my marriage good? Fuck no.
Am I fixing things? Nope!
Do I care? Sometimes, but not all that often.

I have sort of settled into this life. We live together. We raise kids together. We have moments of happiness and we have moments when we can't seem to stand each other. Mostly though we just have boring moments of everyday life.

It may not be exciting, but it is a hell of a lot better than feeling horrible all the time. I would rather feel nothing than feel what I felt for those years of hell after finding out the truth. I will take numbness over agonizing pain any day!!!

it's bad

I feel so bad right now. Not bad as in sick or hurt or even hurt feelings. Just bad.

I have no energy and no desire to do a damn thing. It is not depression, even though those are signs of it. Depression would be something and this is just... nothing.

I feel nothing but bad. Just bad. And lazy... I guess I feel that too.

I don't want to do a damn thing. I don't even want to sleep, which is typically what I do when I want to do nothing. And cry, I guess. I feel like I could cry, and cry, and cry. I could cry for days and still not be done.

I just don't feel like existing right now. In a sense I already feel like I don't exist. I am here but..... am I really here?

I am nothing... and that is bad.

Blah

My family keeps talking about Hub's and my 10th anniversary that is coming up. They keep referring to it as a celebration. "oh, you'll be celebrating your 10th anniversary this year." Uh, no... no celebrating here.

Ten years. Big fricking deal.

The first five years were good (cause i was clueless). The next three were total hell. The last two have just been.... what is a good word for the past two years???? How about.... blah. Ya, they have just been blah. A whole lot of nothing going on. No love, no romance, no sex, no anything. Blah!

Celebration? Nope!

Who Am I?

I am not the person I thought I would be. I am certainly not the person I wanted to be. Growing up we have so many thoughts and ideas and dreams about the person we will become. Reality can never live up to all that, can it? It most definitely has not for me.

My earliest dream was to be an actress. Nothing glamorous. I just wanted to be in commercials. It sounds silly I know. I was fascinated with commercials when I was little though. I would never watch the TV shows, but I would come running whenever the commercials were on. I loved them. From about age four to age seven, all I wanted was to be in commercials.

Around the age of seven I fell in love with Star Wars. It was at that point in life that I decided I wanted to be an astronaut. I held that dream until about age eleven when I once again began to dream of acting. I knew that becoming an astronaut would not really mean cavorting with Wookies or hanging with little green shaman who talked like Grover from Sesame Street. Still, the idea of being amongst the stars seemed so amazing and perfect.

From age eleven until around age fifteen I thought I would be an actress. I really believed I would. I am not at all sure why I believed this since I had zero acting experience and even dropped drama class in high school after about two weeks. Around the age of fifteen I realized acting was not my future and traded that dream for the dream of working in advertising. Yep, the lure of the commercial had once again taken control of my plans for the future. I did take a commercial design class in high school that I loved and did very well in. However, like all the other dreams, it just wasn't meant to be.

Maybe it was meant to be though. Maybe it really is what I was meant to do, but I just managed to screw it all up and throw myself off the path I truly belonged on. That seems about right. I have this bad habit of sabotaging my own life. Whenever things are going good, I make a stupid decision that throws it all off course and sends me spiralling back down to the depths. So, perhaps living the life of some hot shot advertising exec, staying single and living in a super cool bachelorette pad and having amazing parties with my small, but wonderful group of friends really is where I am supposed to be now. Maybe that dream was the reality I was supposed to live. Instead I threw it all away for some guy. Some guy whom I decided was more important that going away to art school. Some guy who after three years I threw away for some other guy.

Of course I threw that guy away for yet another guy. Then I threw that guy away for the guy I have now, and we all know where that choice has gotten me.

This is not the life I thought I would be living. I am not the person I thought I would be.


to be continued....

Fixing the fixer

Believe it or not I am actually alive and well. I thought I should probably check in and say hi. Hi!

When I signed up for an online college program I didn't realize how much of my time it would actually eat up. Crazy! I love it though. I am honestly not sure if this degree is going to take me anywhere in life but it is doing wonders for my mind and my self-esteem. I am smart! Who knew? Just kidding. I have actually always been fairly book smart. I just make stupid life choices. Anyway... it is great to be using my mind and stretching that big grey mass in my head.

Life still has its shitty points, but it is getting better. I attribute that to feeling better about myself. I worry less about everyone else's issues now and let them try to fix themselves instead of me trying to fix them. It creates a real peace even if it doesn't actually get anyone fixed. I shall fix myself and the rest can choose to make changes and come along or get left behind!

The trouble with romance

I have a serious problem. I am a romantic.

This is a problem because, as such, I am destined to never really be happy in life. You see, a true romantic is never happier than when they are falling in love. We are not particularly interested in being in love, and certainly not in staying in love. Oh sure, a romantic likes to think that those incredible feelings of closeness and desire will lead to a lifetime of happiness and that the feeling will last. It doesn't though, and then the romance is gone. No, it is not the relationship that a romantic needs. It is those intense feelings of attraction and the dreams and plans built around those. All the things that come with falling in love are like an addiction for the romantic. It is the fall that matters, not what follows.

There is nothing more romantic than those first exciting encounters with someone. I am not referring to the sexual encounters. I am talking about those first days or weeks that we spend with someone new. It is a time when all their jokes are funny, their stories are fascinating, and no one on earth could possibly be more interesting.

I have never been happy in relationship past the first year or two. I remember falling for Hub and thinking that it was the most exciting time in my life. It all seemed so romantic. I thought we would be together and happy forever. I did not really think about the forever though. If I had I would have realized things would never really work out. We were not really compatible. That did not matter then. It should have, but it didn't. I could not see past the fall. I just felt so much love and excitement and happiness that I assumed it would last. It is a romantic notion, but not a realistic one.

I can blame a great deal of our marital problems on Hub, and I would be right in doing so. But if I am being realistic, I know that even if he had not turned out to be a sex addict, things probably would not have worked out anyway. I would have gotten bored. His jokes are not funny anymore. He is no longer charming. His stories are not really that interesting at all. In fact I hate talking to him most of the time because I just do not give a shit about the things he is talking about. I have no interest in this relationship. It is boring.

I find myself fantasizing quite often about leaving Hub. It is not for the reasons it should be. It is not because I want to stand on my own and get away from the emotional torment he has put me through. I am numb to all that now. None of it really matters to me. I just do not care enough about him anymore to care what he does. I find myself fantasizing about leaving so that I can find someone new. Honestly, I fantasize more about finding someone new than I do about actually leaving. I want the thrill of a new relationship. I want the romance.

Lately I find myself watching romance movies. There is this longing in my when I watch them. I want that. I want that feeling. I want someone to be so enthralled with me that they would chase me to the ends of the earth. I want someone to love me so much that they would do anything, including laying down their life or spending a lifetime in prison (it was the theme of one of the movies i watched) in order to protect me. I want to fall in love.


I was thinking about this just the other night as I watched yet another Bollywood romance (these are my latest romance movie obsession as the stories are so much more involved and they have to fight so much harder to be together than people in our own society do). I was thinking about how desperately I want to fall in love like the people in the movie. Then I had this realization that I am getting too old for such things. Here are these young couples fighting against their parents and society in order to be together and it is so romantic and I would love to be in their place. I am not young though. People my age do not go into relationships looking for love and romance. They go into them looking for stability. I am at the age where it is more important to be sure you get a man who is going to treat you well and be able to help provide for the family than it is to have a big, romantic adventure.

I am too old for romance, and that depresses me. I have always been the girl that rebelled and went after the boy who was all wrong for me. I went after the excitement and the adventure. I went after the big, romantic adventure. Those days are behind me now. If I were to leave Hub I would need to be on my own for a while. It is the right thing to do for the sake of the kids. You cannot just run right into a relationship with someone else when you have kids. Well you can, but people think you belong on an afternoon sleazy talk show when you do that. (i know, i have been there. but that is a story for another time) Then when it was appropriate for me to move on to another relationship I would have to be practical. I would have to find a man who would treat me good, who would treat my kids well, who could provide for a family. I would have to be sensible. And really, if that is how you have to approach finding a relationship.... why even bother? What good is a relationship without romance? I have that now!

So I am feeling a bit old these days. Old, trapped, and alone. I still dream of romance, but I have come to the disheartening conclusion that it will forever be a just a dream.

Empty

I haven't felt much like posting lately. I have always enjoyed writing (even though I am not really that good at it) and this blog has been cathartic. It has been a good outlet for me to release the emotional garbage that I have had to deal with. I think that this is a big reason why I have not been able to write lately.

I have detached myself from it all. The anger, the hurt, the sense of betrayal, all the deep emotional crap... all of it, is just missing. I am not over things yet. I have not healed and moved on. I simply stopped caring. Without all those deep feelings and thoughts there is nothing for me to draw from in order to write. Any attempts to journal events becomes simply a list of details and events. The fire and passion with which I write best have fizzled out and dried up.

I feel like an empty husk.




What am I without passion and emotion?

I believe it is something less than human. That is what I am right now. Less than human. Humans are full of life and passion and emotions and so much more. Me? I am just empty!

I am less than what I once was. And I don't know if I will ever really get myself back.

shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!!!!!

Have you ever tried to read instructions when there are two loud, rowdy people wrestling two feet behind you?

Have you ever tried to assemble your ideas into a cohesive thought and attempt to write them into an essay when someone is watching television at a volume of 55 just three yards to your left?

I tried. I was not successful.

Trying to complete college assignments while stuck in a hotel room with other people... just not possible!

I am ready to get back to the real world.

nobody cares what you want

I am living life in the Twilight Zone. I must be. Nothing could feel more alien or surreal than my surroundings at this time. Ok, maybe I've got sci-fi stuck in the brain after my little tale I wrote earlier and I'm pulling references to obscure old television shows due to that. But seriously... this is a strange world indeed.

I am on vacation. I know what you're thinking, "but Rocki you are dead broke and in a massive depression about the financial belly-buster you took over the holidays! how the hell are you paying for a vacation?" Well, you would be very wise to think that way, except I am not paying for this little trip. Nope! It's the parents. They had this bright idea that it would be fun to take me and Tot on a little family trip for some good ol family fun. Sounds great in theory. In reality... it is more of a nightmare.

The biggest problem with going on a trip that someone esle is paying for is that it leaves you with no control of the situation. You go where they want to go and do what they want to do. So the kid would love It's a Small World cause he's weird like that... well, that is just too bad cause grandma hates it. Nosir, not happening. So you hate meat and the kid won't eat it at all, well that is too bad cause grandpa wants to go to the prime rib buffet. Wake up when they want, leave when they want, see what they want, eat what they want, do what they want and grin and be thankful through it all.

Is vacation over yet?!?!?

stray-dog pissed on my bed

See that title? That is a metaphor for my life. It is not just a metaphor though, it actually happened. Apparently it has happened more than once.

I lay down in bed last night feeling overly tired, and just plain worn down. I am soul weary right now. To cope with that I stay awake long hours and then crash into bed when I just cannot continue to function. I realize that is not the best coping strategy but it is better than laying in bed tossing and turning and thinking. Always thinking!

So last night I fell into bed completely exhausted. I snuggled my head down into my pillow and smelled a strange smell. It was not a pleasant one for sure. I took a deep breath trying to identify the smell and considered that it could be dog pee. Too tired to do much about it, I threw the pillow on the floor and grabbed another. Pillows are in no short supply on my bed. Love, tenderness, and passion... those are rare things in my bed, but pillows not so much. Anyway, I grabbed another pillow, gave it a test sniff and decided it was safe enough. It smelled like hair which means it probably needed a washing, but it was something I could live with.

**If you have been reading this blog for awhile, actually reading it, not just reading the "juicy" posts, then you will remember that a few months ago we got a dog. It was from an abused home and someone rescued it but couldn't actually take in, so asked me to and of course I could not turn the darn thing down. So there is not actually a stray dog in my house but I refer to her as stray-dog cause that's almost what she was. It is also what she will be if she keeps pissing on my bed!!! This dog has a bit of a nervous disorder. She pees a little when she is nervous, scared, upset, or excited. It is usually just a tiny trickle that escapes. I figured the dog probably had a nervous episode on my bed and had trickled on my pillow. **

I drifted off fell fast and hard into a deep sleep for an hour or so. That is when Tot wandered into my room, as he tends to do each and every night due to the fact that the child is incapable of sleeping through the night. I turned on a movie for him and got him settled into his little place on the floor near the foot of the bed (it is the compromise we have... he can't get his squirmy, kicking, punching, sleep-talking self into the bed with me but he can stay in the room) and went back to bed myself. That is when the odor assaulted me again.

I re-tested the pillow and it still smelled only of hair. I sniffed at the other pillows and all were fine. Well, they were all dog pee free anyway. I decided to give the comforter a sniff. Oh dear lord!!! That was it. The dog had pissed on the bed and had hit my pillow and my big, fluffy comforter. I threw it off and managed the rest of the night with some scraggly old blanket that I hide under the bed.

If I hadn't been in a state of near coma-like existence due to the intentional sleep deprivation method of putting myself into a deep sleep each night, then I probably would have checked the entire bed for dog pee. As it was, I figured I would just shower in the morning anyway and since nothing felt wet surely it was ok. It stood to reason that if stray-dog hit the comforter and the pillow that the rest of the bed had probably been shielded.

This morning after getting up, taking a power-shower, and getting Tot ready for school, I grabbed the comforter to throw in the wash. I went back into my room to finish getting myself ready for the day and stray-dog followed me in. She hopped up on the bed and sat down. I thought nothing of it. I fumbled around in my way too messy closet for a shirt and when I turned around there was stray-dog squatted down on my bed! I guess she had decided that since I had cleaned up her handy work that she needed to replace it. There she was pouring out gallons of piss, quite intentionally, all over my bed!!! This was no accidental nervous trickle.

I guess the dog has decided that my bed is her territory and she felt the need to mark it. Now I'm stuck with cleaning the whole damn mattress instead of just washing sheets, pillows, and blankets.

The life metaphor? Once again someone pisses all over me and I am left to clean up the mess!

tiny tim can go f....

"Are you ready for Christmas?" asked the perky wulmurt cashier.

"No, not really," I sighed.

"Why not?" she asked, seeming surprisingly concerned.

"I am just not in the Christmas spirit this year," I answered with a shrug of my shoulder.


An actual snarl took over her formerly perky face. "Ugh!" she snorted, "that's not right!"

Seriously? Seriously you overly chipper, snarky, little bitch?!? You're going to give me an attitude... no! not just an attitude but down-right contempt, because I am not in the holiday spirit?


Maybe you can be happy you blue-shirted, Santa loves me, upbeat, stupid-ass optimist, but not all of us can. Some of us have husbands who will be 100's of miles away on Christmas. Husbands who will probably be treating themeselves to a happy-ending massage while we're putting together some 100o piece toy that our kid just had to have but will only play with for a day, and we're slaving over a hot stove making a dinner nobody is going to freaking eat! Some of us are making do with aging potatoes, a can of corn, and that cheap ass ham you see me spending my last fifteen bucks on for Christmas dinner. Some of us are having to decide whether to actually pay the bills or to buy their kids presents for Christmas this year!!!


So excuse the f**k out of me if I'm not feeling the spirit this year. God bless us everyone my ass! Tiny Tim can go f**k himself too!!!


I am in a dark, bitter mood this holiday season. Get over it ya peppy bitch! Ugh.... I need a drink!

Let the Sun Shine on Him

I do not often talk about my kids here. It often doesn't seem the place. Frankly, I spend more time complaining or feeling sorry for myself here than anything else. My kids are (mostly) a source of joy for me. It means they don't really fit the mood of this sad place. Today though, I really have Sonny on my mind.

I have always been a really shy person, in a nearly debilitating way. I feel incredibly awkward around people I do not know, or do not know well. I suffer from very terrible social anxiety disorder. What does this have to do with Sonny? He is the exact same way.

My poor son is painfully shy. There are times when the sadness and loneliness caused by this are so great that they just poor out of him. He will get into a mood so low that he will simply lay on the floor near tears with his lip trembling. He tries to hide his face so none of us notice, but I almost always do. It breaks my heart.

He is at an age now where his interest in girls is really peaking. He wants so much to ask a girl out on a date, but his shyness keeps him from doing so.

Today I saw something that lifted my spirits and made me smile with pure joy for my son. I was on Facebook, wasting away precious time when I noticed Sonny's status had been recently updated. He is at school, which meant that it had been updated from his cell phone. He is technically not supposed to be on his phone at school, unless it is lunchtime. It was not yet lunchtime. I looked at the status update to see what could be so important that he needed to post from school. That is when I realized that he was not the one to write the status. It said "Cute Girl was here!" Now, it didn't really say "cute girl" it said some cute little girl's name. Yes, I looked through his list of friends to see who "cute girl" was. She really is a very pretty young lady. Here she was, announcing to the world that she was on Sonny's Facebook. I have spent enough time around Dot to know that this is a very flirty thing to do. It is a way to let someone know that you "really like them".

Now maybe not all mom's would be thrilled about the idea of their child taking those first steps into the dating world. For me though, it is like a little ray of sun shining down on my son. It is a glimmer of hope that maybe some of that social awkwardness may just be slipping away. And yes, I am indeed thrilled about that!

I never remember

If you read this blog alot then you know what time it is. Saturday Centus time! One of my favorite times of the week. You also know the drill... take the given prompt and write a story (fiction or non-fiction) using only 100 words, not counting the prompt. I've gone with non-fiction this week.

Here is my 100 word thought process for the week. Prompt is in color:

It was the 11th anniversary of my first wedding. No wait! It was the12th. That was back in July, but I hadn’t thought of it then. I used to remember, on the day. “This would have been our 3rd anniversary,” I would think, and my mind would drift nostalgically back. I’d remember my gorgeous gown with the twelve layer skirt and another 10 layers of petticoat. I’d think of my hair cascading down my back in curls. Feeling and looking like a princess. Then I’d remember how the air-conditioner had been broken and I regretted those layers and cascading hair.

But… I never remember it anymore.