Why would I want that?

Mind numbing pain screams through my brain. I know I should look away from the screen. There is no point or reason for me to continue to stare. Nothing there is worthwhile. It is an escape. Nothing more. A way to avoid reality. I simply do not want to face the fact that I am stuck, once again, at home on a beautiful Saturday.

Why does it seem that the day is a waste if we have nowhere to go and nothing to do outside our home?

Why can I not be happy playing a board game or making crafts?

Why do I feel like a loser with no life if I am stuck at home, jusy myself and Tot?

The throbbing in my head builds. It pulses behind my eye. An indication that I have stared at this computer screen for far too long. I know the headache is caused from the hours I have sat staring at this stupid screen. Staring at nothing important. Constantly checking email that contains nothing new. Frequent checks of social networks that only increase my depression. Status updates and photos of so-called friends going to wonderful places and doing cool things. All while I am stuck here at home, doing nothing.

Nothing but ignoring my child.

Avoiding doing things that might actually be enjoyable and not a huge waste of my time.

Why do I continue to sit and stare at this screen?
Why don't I do something with my poor ignored child?

Why?

Because maybe then I might actually feel a bit of joy or happiness. Why would I want that when it suits me so well to sit and wallow in depression and self-loathing?

My head hurts physically, but the pain inside is worse.

It is not a good day in my head.

Changes

Saturday Centus is a themed writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock.

You can use UP to 100 words (not including the prompt) to tell your story. You cannot use pictures to illustrate your story. It can be fact or fiction. The only restriction is the prompt must be left intact WHICH MEANS you cannot split up the words in the prompt.

Here is my effort for the week. (prompt is in red):

"This is never going to come out," she thought as she scrubbed at the spot on the worn carpet. Suddenly, she heard a high pitched scream. Quickly looking up she saw her daughter, Katie, chasing a group of kids around the room. She was screaming with laughter as she gave chase. It was Katie’s sixth birthday and yet this was the first time she’d ever had a party. It had been six months since Katie’s adoption had been finalized. This happy, laughing girl hardly resembled the frightened, timid child they had brought home. “This fruit punch is never going to come out,” she thought again, “and I don’t care!”

So Here I Am

I made a very big decision. I decided to start college. It's been twenty years since I graduated high school, may as well go ahead and get started right?

Now of course this was something that I put a lot of thought into. It is something that I took a lot of time to think over, weighing pros and cons and making sure it was the right decision. Naturally, I spent weeks or maybe even months researching online schools to find just the right one, making sure it was fully accredited and that the credits I earn will be transferable to other colleges and that my degree with be viewed with respect. I looked deeply into myself reflecting on my interests and strengths to be sure that I enter into exactly the right degree program for the career that will suit me best.

Of course I did all that!
Ok....
No! I didn't do any of that.

I got a wild hair up my arse that I want to be a teacher. So, I looked around online for a few hours looking for a school that would offer an online degree in teaching. Ok, no I didn't really think I would find one. Then, I kind of did find one. I sent for more info. A few days later I got a call from the school. Well, actually starting that very day I got several calls a day from some strange long-distance number that I avoided answering in fear that it was a bill collecter and then I finally realized a few days later that it was the school calling. The teaching degree thing wasn't available in my state. Turns out we have high standards here. Who knew?

The guy on the phone who sounded either really sick, really drunk or like he had a cleft lip, went on to tell me about a couple other degree programs they have that I could do and then once I had my associates I could enroll in a bachelors in education program because, "it really doesn't matter what your associates degree is in". Yes, I knew that sounded stupid. Yes, I still went ahead and signed up for one of those other programs. Sick, drink, cleft lip guy got me all set up in the next few days, running me through the enrollment process and all the financial aid stuff. I qualified for the max amount in grants. Sometimes being dead ass poor has its advantages. Again, who knew?

The Friday before I was supposed to start classes I talked with an academic advisor. He sounded healthy, sober and cleft free. He also found out that I was originally interested in the teaching degree and he went on a bit of a tirade about how I should be in an education specific program for my associates. He even went so far as to look up schools in my state that I should be attending instead of the school he works for. He gave me a lot of good information and advice. I explained to healthy, sober, cleft free guy that I didn't have time for real school and had to do it online. He found a state school that offers an education degree online. Then he proceeded to pull me from my classes so I could have time to contact this other school and look into attending there instead.

At this point healthy, sober, cleft free guy had done so much to be really helpful, and was so nice to me that I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't exactly totally sure I want to be a teacher. I didn't know how to tell him that it was just a wild hair decision and that I really only wanted to go to college and get a degree to prove to myself, my family and the rest of the world that I can do it. So, I let him pull me from my classes.

That Monday I did call the school he found. It is a good school with a great program for teaching degrees. That is good to know since Dot is considering a teaching career. It didn't really work for me though. The online program is to get a bachelor's degree. I am still in need of my associates. I was one of those genius kids that decided against college when I graduate high school. I did ask about the school I was officially already enrolled in to see if my credits would transfer over to this school. Ummmm... not so much. Grrrrrrrrrrreat!

Yes, I did stay enrolled in this school anyway. I did go ahead and start classes the next week. Many of the credits I earn probably won't transfer over to most schools. It was probably a really stupid choice to have stayed with this school. I don't even care. If I have to spend extra time and take extra courses at another school later, so be it. I just knew that if I didn't get started, I would never do this.

I need this!

I need to prove to myself I can function at the college level. I need to know that I am capable of doing this. And yes, I need to prove it to everyone else too. Not for them. For me.

So here I am. A college student. A college student in an online program at an iffy school, but a college student none the less.

F-R-U-S-T-R-A-T-E-D

I am becoming increasigly frustrated with Hub on the parenting front. I am put in the position of being the mean parent. Most often I am the one who handles discipline. I make Tot put away his toys, and put him in time-out when he acts out. I am the one who makes him eat his veggies before he gets ice cream. Me! Me me me me me!!!

I am used to it being this way, but it is frustrating.

The newest frustration comes not from having to be the mean parent, but from also having to be the only parent that works on the really difficult things. The only parent who actually pays attention at therapy appointments. The only parent who actually reads all the information the therapists send home. I then have to explain it all to Hub and try to get him to see the importance of actually following through on all of it.

How are we ever going to help Tot and make real progress if only one of us is involved in the therapy and implementing plans of action?

Want to know what triggered this little explosion of frustration just now?
We just got a book of information and techniques for dealing with Tot's anger and aggression issues. It is a lot to read through. I am super busy with school stuff (ya, I actually started school. i will post on that later. MUCH to say!) and it would be a HUGE help for Hub to read some of this stuff so I don't have to read it all. So.... Hub goes into the bathroom with some junk mail to read for the hour he'll be in there. Seriously?!? Why the hell couldn't he have taken the big book of information we got from the therapist that needs to be read?!?!?!?

I AM SO FREAKING FRUSTRATED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!

Electric Demon

It is Saturday Centus time again. I've normally done these on Saturday, but thankfully Jenny Matlock gives us the entire week to post our efforts. I had a more pressing and depressing matter to attend to this week.

This is a themed writing meme where you can use UP to 100 words (not including the prompt) to tell your story. It can be fact or fiction. The only restrictions are: The prompt must be left intact AND you cannot split up the words in the prompt.


Here is my contribution for the week. I am sticking with the mood of the week around here. This one is a bit dark, but I assure you it is fiction. So have no worries about me. :)

The wind whipped my hair into my face. Each tendril struck at my cheeks with the force of a whip. My eyes stung with tears, though not from the pain of the strikes. No, it was the pain in my heart, in my very soul, which brought forth the raging tears. Thunder crackled loudly as lightning ripped the sky like an electric demon. I lifted my face toward heaven and let the rain mix with the tears on my face. I held my arms outstretched and dared the electric currents blazing above to strike me where I stood. Indeed, it was a dark and stormy night.

Moments

There are times I wonder how I ended up with this life. Those times can last days, weeks or even months.

Then there are moments that I am reminded why I made the choices I did. While they last considerably shorter than those bad times, they make a much bigger impact. A few minutes of heartfelt, honest conversation heal my soul. A brief moment of tenderness restores my belief. Blue eyes filled with love and emotion make my heart skip a beat.

The man I love is in there. And those moments when I see him shining through are precious if few.

A different kind of enabling

Hub is my enabler. Ya, he is mine. This is a new realization for me. I can't help but wonder.... what the hell took me so long to see this???

Since losing my job back in early 2008, I have had sporadic bouts of employment. The first was a pretty decent opportunity in a physician's office. I worked there for about two weeks. I spent nearly every day of those two weeks complaining about how poorly I was being trained for my position and how I felt like I wasn't catching on the way I should. After two weeks of my complaining, Hub said, "if you don't like it there, just quit". I did.

I started the next job almost immediately. It was an early morning shift at a fast food place. I had actually been offered this one just days before being offered the office job and backed out when I got the better offer. After quitting the first job, I talked to the manager at the fast food place, fed him a line of bullshit as to why I didn't come to work for him. He bought it. (I am an extremely talented bullshit artist. So much so that it is really not in my best interest to use this particular talent.) It seemed logical that working in fast food would not require a lot of deep thought or need for real knowledge and therefor would be relatively stress free. I didn't feel inadequate like I did at the office job. It was indeed fairly simple. Take orders, run the register, bag some food, wipe counters, blah blah blah. It was in fact very, very blah. I would find myself completely done with all my work and still had hours left to go on my shift. That place was shiny clean from top to bottom, which is saying a lot considering how it looked on my first day, after about a month of working there. I told Hub repeatedly how bored I was there. He told me, "No shit! I knew you would hate it. If you don't like it there, just quit". I did.

It was several months later when a very good opportunity came along. Very good. Great pay, better insurance, opportunity to advance, and it was in the field I had worked for several years before getting the axe. It was the perfect job. What was even better was that I hadn't even applied for the job. They came looking for me based on a resume I had posted at one of those online job sites. I was the perfect candidate for the position. I went through all the training and background clearances. I began searching for daycare for Tot. I interviewed two different places. One was a daycare center and it was pretty pricey. The other was a home daycare. I spent an hour in this woman's home and witnessed her kid getting away with attempted murder while another little boy was yelled at if he even thought about breathing. Not a place I was going to take my son. I began to worry about finding the right place to take Tot. I'd be worried no matter what, but with the added effects of an autism spectrum disorder I was terrified of leaving him the hands of a stranger. I shared those concerns with Hub. He told me, "I'd rather you were home with him anyway. Just call and tell them you can't take the job". I did.

The latest job was this past summer. I referred to it as "the monkey job", as in a monkey could do it. (I mentioned it back in this post) Of course I wasn't happy about that fact, but I was willing to deal with it. I hated my supervisor. Hate is a strong word, but I'm standing by it in this case. The people I worked with were unfriendly. I was miserable. Naturally, I shared all this with Hub. He told me, "If you hate it so much, just quit". I didn't. Not right away at least. I stuck it out for a little while. There were days I wanted to just keep on driving and never turn back rather than go to work, but I went. There were days I was literally on the verge of tears, but I continued to go back. Then one day, I just couldn't do it anymore. Hub had told me repeatedly that I should quit if I was so unhappy there, so I knew he'd back up my decision. I left and never went back.

I have so much more to say about the monkey job, but that is a post for another day. This one is about my enabler. My husband who for two years now has enabled my habit of quitting jobs. There are so many mental and emotional factors that go into "why" I can't hold a job. I need strong support to work through them and beat them. I need encouragement to keep a job, to hang in there until I get past the mental blocks that make me want to run. Instead, I get the enabling statement of "just quit".

I have gone back and forth on how I viewed Hub's willingness to have me quit jobs. I have thought of it as him being very supportive of me and my feelings. I have thought of it as his way of keeping me financially unable to ever leave him. I think though, that this time I really hit on what it really is. He is my enabler. Here we are yet again, co-existing in co-dependency.