part a

so. big announcement: i am changing jobs soon. like, very soon. like, monday.

this has been a while coming; i’ve been scouting on the dl for several months now. there are a myriad of reasons for this change that are all separate but all the same.

when people ask me why i’m doing this, i’ll say the polite, politically correct, short form answer: i need health insurance. part time work doesn’t provide medical insurance, retirement, paid holidays, pto...you get the idea. i’ve been working 50 hour weeks from 7-5 M-F but can’t afford to buy insurance off the exchange but i make too much money to qualify for state health insurance.

i made the change to get health insurance. it’s polite. it’s simple. it’s true.

it’s a comfortable, socially acceptable, easy answer.

i worry so much about not making other people uncomfortable. i worry about not being “that person” at events. i don’t want to be the debbie downer. i spend so much time thinking of the simplest, best way to say things so i’m not a burden to other people. maybe a little bit of truth mixed with plenty of jokes and some self deprecating jokes. i try so hard to minimize everything. make it palatable small little perfectly proportioned doses of “my crazy.” 

that’s literally what i call it. “my crazy.”

the real reason, the fraught with terror, over-analyzed decision and thought behind this change, all the circumstances that piled up to this...they’re ugly. they’re messy. they’re complicated. it’s all the worst stuff. no one wants to hear that. no one wants to hear my sob story. everyone has their own shit. this is mine. i just need to learn how to deal with it better. suck it up buttercup. it’s bootstrap pulling time. don’t you dare burden other people with this. they all have enough going on. 

these are the things i say to myself. and i do. i keep it to myself. i have maybe 3 people that know what’s been behind this. like, REALLY behind this. 

and this is such a hard thing to say, but someone has to start saying it because i don’t think i’m alone in this and that’s heartbreaking if other people feel this way.

here we go.

i have pervasive suicidal thoughts.

i'm changing jobs because i need medical insurance. i need to be able to get back into therapy. i need mental health care.

like, I NEED mental health care.

i’ve been struggling with pervasive, intense, can’t shake it suicidal thoughts for a year now.

chronic pervasive suicidal idealization. 

up until may i had state insurance and was seeing a great therapist weekly.

in may, my financial review came up and since the last renewal a year ago i’ve had a MAJOR change in household. when my teenager lived at home we both qualified for state provided health insurance. when my household changed, it disqualified me for coverage. that meant no more therapy. which i need to deal with the whole reason there was a change in household. that’s a fun little infinity loop.

since may i’ve really struggled with a growing pile of things i need help sorting through. my over thinking, self hating brain has just been spiraling. the CPS reports i had requested from my case back in december finally arrived. it’s pretty hard to read the interviews and reports and the things my own kid said against me. i’ve really been struggling with why my own kid would say such blatantly false things about me. blatantly. false. told them i had multiple pimps. told them i’m an iv drug user. told them i abuse him daily and put out cigarettes on his arms.

none of those things are even in the smallest portion even a tiny bit of truth.

the report goes on for several pages and there’s some really ugly things. and people signed off on this. the grandparent he’s staying with signed off on these reports. and do people really believe this about me? they signed the papers. that means they didn’t DISAGREE.  he’s telling all these people just horrible made up things. how can my own child hate me that much? how can my own kid want to hurt me that much?

man. that gets into some pretty. ugly. corners.

i’ve also been struggling with just- existing. when you live alone there’s a LOT of quiet time. that’s a lot of thinking time. that’s a lot of time to finally process YEARS of trauma. that’s a lot of nights realizing how you respond to things, decisions you make, roadblocks in relationships...all the things. all the parts in life that have been hit by the ripple effects of years of stuffing trauma away. of just getting through it. just keep going. don’t think about it, just get up and go to work. take the kids to sports. do the school meetings. get the groceries. keep things working.

and then when you stop and all those ripples catch up it quickly turns into a tidal wave.

things have been rough at work too. one of my bosses and i have VERY different viewpoints on life. it’s challenging to work for someone who is staunchly opposed to all the basic parts of my life: LGBT is a lifestyle choice (and a wrong one). women’s rights are just an attack on men. vaccinations, religion...we’ve had some interesting discussion.

and don’t get me wrong, it’s not an openly hostile environment. it’s not in my face very day. and i know, work is like family thanksgiving dinner: never discuss politics, religion or relationships. but that’s where i spend 80% of my life. those are almost exclusively the only people i talk to, ever. and people need connections, conversations. 15 minutes chatting with a coworker so i’m not completely isolated all day every day is necessary. but sometimes you learn things about people you can’t unlearn.

i’ve also realized in the last few months just how bad my anxiety is and how far back it goes. i don’t think many kids lay awake at 8 years old counting to sixty over and over and over again while staring at smoke detectors to make sure the damn thing blinks and is working WHILE simultaneously planning 2 different escape routes. i don’t think most people spend HOURS, DAYS, YEARS going over every interaction with friends and strangers trying to suss out all the wrong things said, all the ways i potentially offended them, all the “weird” things i said that will make them never talk to me again. added bonus: the whole ghosting trend in dating has really not done me any favors.

it’s been a lot. and somewhere, in the back of my head this whole time, the WHOLE. TIME. is the though: maybe you just shouldn’t exist anymore. look at all the bullshit surrounding you. think how much better things would be for everyone else if they didn’t have to listen to your bullshit. omg. you’re such an energy drain. don’t you dare talk to anyone. they don’t need to worry about your dumb ass. don’t say anything to panic anyone. just figure out a way to not exist. i have notes saved in my phone like this:

“wouldn’t it be ironic if the loneliness from cutting all the abusive people out of my life is what ends up killing me.”

i slowly and repeatedly sift through all the ways i couldn’t off myself: i could never leave a mess for some poor unsuspecting person to clean up after anything involving a gun. besides i hate guns. i couldn’t take pills. some poor first responder would have to deal with that. i can’t do anything that some unsuspecting person would have to encounter.

then it shifts a little- whatever i do needs a body for verification so my life insurance will pay out. i have friends listed as beneficiaries that could really use the money...as much as they would be mad at me, i have a decent policy that could really change some lives.

but yeah, i think about death on the daily. 

i’m not so much thinking about a way to die as much as just not being particularly attached to staying alive. 

it’s exhausting. it really is.

but i’m working on it. i’m changing jobs. the environment will be better, i’ll have benefits, and i’ll be able to walk to work. that’s a pretty good hat trick of mental health and self care.

real talk

ok. fine. i’ll talk about it.

this post has been wandering around my head for WEEKS but i’ve been too terrified to actually write it down. i keep SAYING don’t be afraid to talk about it. don’t be afraid to tell people. being afraid of it makes it worse. makes it stronger. so take that power back. get rid of that energy drain. don’t be afraid to reach out. don’t be afraid to be honest. don’t be afraid to talk about it. DON’T. BE. AFRAID.

and then the bloggess posted an article about talking about it (if you don’t know the bloggess, go find her). and there’s been some not so subtle signs from several corners of the universe kicking me, ever so gently with a steel toed boot, to write about it. talk about it. get the poison out. 

so. here we go.

trigger warning: this post is going to talk about suicide. REALLY. REALLY. talk about suicide. it’s ugly and real and honest. there’s no sugar coating, no tip-toeing, no delicately talking around the issue. it’s blunt. it’s me. the only way i know how to be. 

a few weeks ago i had a really shitty week at work. a really, really, incredibly shitty week at work. a week that made me feel like i am TERRIBLE at my job. and i’m not terrible at my job. i’m very very good at my job(s). it all ended up working out, mostly, but it was a BAD week. between a terrible client, being on hold for SEVEN hours with quickbooks- it was bad. it was absolutely, totally  wrecked, bad.

now, i’ve had bad work weeks before. i’m not perfect at my job, but after 20 damn years i’m pretty fucking good at it. then that week hit. and my work was the ONE THING i felt like i’ve been holding together the last year.

parenting: terrible

finances: terrible

friendships: terrible

relationships: terrible

but work. WORK. the one thing i’m good at. i’m fucking good at my job. the one piece i could hold together.

and that last little tiny toe hold felt like it was falling out from under me. the last piece of my maslow’s hierarchy was crumbling.

it was a bad week. a really bad week.

and i started making a plan. not the good kind. the kind that, looking back, makes me want to hug myself.

i started to make a plan to end my life.

i have to move in april, right? so what if instead of getting ready to move, i just get everything ready for...

i could have everything ready for my dad’s birthday. one last steak and whisky then...

fuck that’s scary to write. and it’s scary to feel.

so. that’s where i was. it was bad. it was ugly. it was dark. it hurt. it scared me. and i didn’t like it. i don’t like it.

i made it through the weekend, made it to the next week and then had another bump in the road when my teenager texted me for the first time since october. great? right? no. it was a huge long attack accusing me of abuse, again, telling me how horrible i am, again, and telling me he hoped i was sitting at home alone and miserable (and i was doing exactly that. ouch.). it was ugly. it hurt. it was completely out of the blue and unexpected. it made me realize that...it made me really realize how long that road is going to be. if he’s even open to getting help, if he is able to GET good help, i’m still not sure...

that’s a really long road. 

and i started thinking about suicide and my plan again. like. really thinking about it.

SO. OK. SELF. LET’S REALLY THINK ABOUT IT.

you think cleaning up your apartment, getting everything in order, having instructions, a plan...think that will all make it better?

survey says fuck off. steve did that. how well did that work out? did all his organizing and getting things lined up make it any better on the back end? did it make losing a brother hurt any less? or did it BREAK. YOUR. HEART. that no one saw it? that you didn’t see it? make you so angry that you didn’t talk to him more? that you didn’t know?

you’ve been in that exact spot. how did it feel? do you want someone else to know that feeling?

his apartment was nice and clean. cool. did that make emptying it out any less traumatic? do you remember how fucking endlessly long that day was? driving back and forth with dad for HOURS to find steve’s car in an impound lot? watching steve’s mother pack up things that belong to a son she’ll never see again? did it hurt any less to have to pack up all your brothers nicely organized things, but not knowing what to do with them? pieces of him- what do you do with it? why would you want to put your friends through that? or the apartment manger. or whomever gets stuck dealing with it. you know your brother wouldn’t have a clue. you couldn’t do that to someone. you couldn’t intentionally leave a shit storm behind. even a well organized one.

so. that bullshit part of the plan is out. what’s next?

oh, think how much good could come from your life insurance policy. yeah. because we all know my friends are the type to think some sort of payout is better than a friendship? you know your people better than that. they would literally practical magic your ass back to this realm just to kick it for even thinking that. nice try. next.

ok. how about: “you’re not supposed to worry about what other people think. you’re not supposed to base your decisions on the impact it will have on others. just worry about yourself first.” ok. let’s rip that thought apart: a) that’s not you. you know that. you think about other people. always have. probably too much. how things will affect them. will it hurt them? you need balance in that department. you’re working on that. be nice to yourself. but it will always be there. not caring at all is not the balance to always caring. find a middle ground. 2) you can’t intentionally inflict pain. you can’t passively inflict pain. it isn’t in you. maybe it’s narcissistic to think people would be sad if i was gone. they would be hurting. BUT I STILL THINK IT. and i don’t want to...i can’t knowingly be the reason people are sad. i don’t want to be the reason people hurt.

so that part is out.

so. how would you do it? seems stupid to not be an organ donor. you’re healthy. or at least have a majority good parts. pretty sure there’s not a way to make both happen. NO. FOR FUCKS SAKE. DON’T GOOGLE THAT.

so. you don’t even know that part.

so what part DO you know? you know you’re sad. you’re hurting. you’ve been through a major, unexpected, traumatic life change. and now your brain isn’t being friendly. ok. let’s work on that.

#1 call your therapist. DONE. back to weekly appointments.

#2 ok brain. we’re going to fucking figure this out. let’s get some mental health going. let’s get a plan together. a mental health care plan.

OH. SNAP.

replace the word mental with...heart. or kidney. or pancreas.

you make comprehensive health care plans for the rest of your body. parts that can heal themselves, maybe be replaced, maybe managed.

if your heart is an asshole they can do surgery or stints or bypasses or other things i’ve heard on greys anatomy but can’t remember. they’ll give you medication or treatment. they’ll 3d print you a new one. i saw it on tv. it must be real. 

if your kidney craps out they can transplant a new one. or medicate the crappy one.

low blood pressure? high blood pressure? diabetes? infection? break? sprain? medication. meditation. injections. cast. physical therapy. 

we do it for all other parts of the body and we’re not terribly embarrassed.

so why can’t we talk about the brain that way? why are we so embarrassed that brains might need help the same as a  kidney might? because we’re still scared of it? because we still don’t understand it? because there’s more questions than answers? it’s the most delicate, most important part of the whole meat factory. it’s the part that makes the rest work. it’s the breathing and the memories and the personality. its understanding. emotion. logic. it’s feeling and facts smashed together in one bone cage. we use a small percentage of its overall power and barely understand even that. it’s mysterious and unexplained. and yes, sometimes parts of it don’t work right. like any other part.

ok. so. let’s make a plan. and for fucks sake, can we please admit how serious this is and stick to a plan this time? this is more than just a bad day. a little bit of pms maybe. stop downplaying it and dismissing it as being dramatic or over reacting. this is literally a matter of life and death. you’re in a fight for your life right now. so time to get back on the right path. time to fight. ok? so what does that look like?

back to basics: vitamins, water, real meals, sleep. brain and body need good fuel to operate. it’s not that hard. just take the damn vitamins. it takes 2.3 seconds. drink the water. no, coffee doesn’t count. EAT. more than bread and hummus. real meals. protein. fats. carbs. vegetables. fruits. all that crap. pyramids and portions and whatever. all those pinterest recipes? that fancy new instapot? MAKE IT WORK. sleep? make it happen. turn off the tv. put down the damn phone. use essential oils. sleep sounds on alexa. smoke yourself to sleep. just SLEEP. have a bed time. stick to it. 

people: you need people. that means leaving your house. so make a schedule. no. a schedule isn’t dumb. it’s practical. people have entire meetings for schedules. tuesday, thursday and sunday can be gym day. yes, the gym is damn near the worst place on earth but it’s $10 a month. it’s out of the house. and it’s healthy or whatever. go walk on a damn treadmill for an hour and listen to music. or podcasts. for fucks sake, you can even watch netflix on your phone on the treadmill. no excuses now. whisky wednesday. do that. you love your bar. you love the people there. you’re comfortable there. go there. friday nights and monday nights you can clean and get all the chores done. yes 2 days for cleaning is plenty. quit being so picky. sheesh. saturday’s GO OUT. find a book reading. a concert. anything. a comedy show. a movie. OUT. get out. netflix will still be there when you get home.

ok. what about *actual* people. like, ones you actually talk to. you can ask them to help without making them responsible for you. simple things. it’s not their job to keep you healthy. it is your job to reach out. they can say no if they’re overwhelmed or uncomfortable and that’s ok.

ok. so you need to TALK. find one person and ask them to check in every few days. have conversations. talk about things. talk through things. talk about nothing. just. talk.

ok. so you need to be real and work on that balance of not worrying what people think. practice being REAL. ok. sounds stupid. but ask one friend to hold your toes to the fire to post REAL, unfiltered snapchat pictures. walking stella on a saturday in mismatched jammies with no bra on, glasses, retainer, no make up and bundled up for winter. it’s real. so show it. to more than your neighbors. be a real person. no one has run away screaming yet. BE. REAL.

ok. so, the gym. fuck i hate the gym. but ask someone that goes ALL THE TIME to bug you if you haven’t mentioned it in a few days. you can check in from the treadmill and so can they.

and remember, this is not THEIR responsibility. it’s YOURS. you take the vitamins. you do the work. you reach out. this is YOUR mental health care plan.

and i’ve been doing it. it’s been a few weeks. it’s hard. as. fuck. but i’m worth it. that’s a big statement for me. i’m worth it. i can say that now and mostly believe it. that’s progress. i’ve been doing the things i need to do. ive been holding myself accountable. i’ve been kind when i’ve missed one bit. i’ve allowed room for imperfection without abandoning the whole plan. that’s progress. that’s huge progress.

suicide is scary y’all. it’s not the first time it’s wandered across my brain but  it is the first time it tried to really settle in and make itself at home in my thoughts. and i’ll tell you what. i did not care for that one bit.

so i’m working on changing it friends. i’m finding ways to make sure those thoughts know they’re not welcome. making sure they don’t get comfortable hanging out. i’m working on changing the negative thought patterns. i’m working on building safety checks. i’m working on LIKING myself. i have 38 years of really, really hating myself to learn to undo. it may be a pendulum effect, please bear with me if i become an egotistical asshole for a minute. i’ll find the balance. i have to find the balance.

i’ll get there. that was a shitty week. wasn’t my first, and i know it won’t be my last. i’m making sure of it. i’m here to fight. i’m in this for the long haul. good bad, bumps and bruises, i’m sticking around. 

and that starts with not being afraid. being able to talk. not being ashamed. not hiding. not giving myself another reason to hate myself. 

if you need help, it is scary. i won’t lie. but there’s help out there. there people and resources. REACH. OUT. just beyond that dark shadow there’s help. whatever you’re going through, it’s a shitty week. sometimes that shitty week feels 20 years long. sometimes it’s one really bad day. and i don’t know if it gets better. i decided to make a change and fight for myself but that doesn’t mean i suddenly woke up to woodland creatures cleaning my house and rainbows shooting out my ass. i’m sure it will get better, and even if that takes a while, i’m tough. i’ve seen some shit y’all. i’ve been through some pretty hard moments. and i’m still here. so i got this. if i made it through 2009 and 2010 i can make it through 2019. 

if you need help, REACH. OUT.

find a friend. find a neighbor. most jobs have an employee assistance program. if you’re too scared to talk to a friend, if you’re struggling with embarrassment, TALK TO A STRANGER. there’s a reason “the comfort of a stranger” is a real thing. so make a call. 

call: 1-800-273-8255 24 hours a day. literally ANY. TIME. there’s someone there to talk to. there’s someone there in spanish. there’s someone there for hard of hearing. there’s someone there on text if talking saying the words out loud is too hard today (text 741741). because that’s a real thing too and it’s ok. 

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SUICIDAL TO CALL FOR HELP. bad day and just need someone to talk to? they’re there. have a friend that you want to help? they can help you find ways to gently help.

it’s not weak. it’s not failure. it’s HARD. AS. FUCK. to ask for help. it’s hard as fuck to say some of the painful stuff your brain thinks up. it’s hard as fuck to choose not to believe the negative. it’s hard as fuck to fight to make things better. it’s not weakness. it’s not failure. EVERYONE. and i do mean EVERY. SINGLE. PERSON. ON. EARTH. has bad days. don’t believe the social media hi-light reels. EVERYONE. EVERYONE has bad days. and no two bad days are the same.

suicide isn’t the answer. it really, really isn’t. my brother took his own life. he planned, arranged, tried to make it ok. i can tell you there’s no “good” way to leave people behind. there is nothing ok about being on the other side. i know it didn’t solve a single damn one of the problems he was fighting. suicide likes to pretend it’s a good solution. it like to slide up next to you and lie it’s face off about how much better it will make thing. THAT’S A LIE. it doesn’t make anything better. it’s just- stops everything. your life is your story. want it to have a good ending? maybe even a happy ending? maybe even a fairytale ending? then you can’t stop it right in the middle of the bad part. sleeping beauty would have been a shit story if it was just like- oh. she’s sleeping. the end. harry potter would have been terrible if he had just been like- I DON’T KNOW. confession: i never read the books. but i’m 100% sure based on the movies if he’d been like- oh. this teacher is mean and quit it would have been a shitty, shitty story.

i’m going to make my story good. i’m going to try my damndest to give it a good ending, in 60 or so years. that’s a lot of pages left to write. this is just a dark chapter in the middle. this is just a storyline arc, not the denouement.

insomniatic

i'll be 32 in a few days. i'm not quite sure why this is so important. maybe it's because for the first time i really feel like ME. i'm speaking my mind more, i'm being creative, i'm kind of a grown up all settled into my house now and working and making healthy decisions. i'm starting to worry less about other people and worry more about myself and my family. i'm trying to learn to like myself in a true and honest way. it's a LOT going on all at once, but i'm not too overwhelmed by it or intimidated by it. welcome to growing up i guess.

i'm not going to sit here and shit cotton candy. it's still fucking hard. i'm in the middle of yet another new change- i'll no longer be in the coffee world. this week will be my last week delivering and stocking around town. i hate to leave, but back to that grown up healthy choice thing, it wasn't what was best for the kids and me right now, so i'll be heading back to more secretarial work that will be steadier and better for us. NO. i'm not giving up. i'm just saying something else is better for now. and that's ok. there's still plenty of opportunities to go back to it, keep up with it on the side, dabble here and there. but my main focus needs to be doing what's best for the spawns, and so i'm doing that.

i'm still dealing with a teenager that scares the shit out of me more days than not. and the scariest part is i have no idea what to do or  how to fix it. i'm just treading water the best i can. he keeps pushing, i keep pushing back. i'm sure as fuck not going to let him push over and walk over me. i do slip. i do let things go that i shouldn't. thankfully as of late i have a good circle of people that are catching this and filling in the blanks when i'm not. when he's disrespectful to me and i'm too tired to fight it they've been coming along side and pointing it out to him and calling him on it for me. it's always a challenge i guess. being a parent isn't for sissies. especially when you're trying to do it right. he's pushing boundaries and trying to become his own person. i'm trying to let him do that but still keep him inside the invisible fence. the newest trick is trying to TELL me where and when he's going places. "i'm going to the store to get a soda mom." umm...i don't hear any permission asked in there...that's odd. another day, another challenge. back to school- we'll see how it goes in his circle of friends.

the little one is on the level for now but balancing on the brink. i know back to school has him rattled. it will be a fight for a few weeks- the new friends, getting into the schedule again, all the nerves and changes. i've caught pieces of it here and there the last few days. abnormally clingy, small behaviour changes that other people think i'm crazy for noticing. add in the crazy chubby face of impending growth spurt- the next month should be an interesting ride.

in the middle of all this i've been- well. i've been battling. the two year marker of losing my dad was rough. i made it through, but it's been rough. i find myself talking about him and my baby brother more the last few weeks than i have in months. maybe it's because everything i do is in twos. i decided a few days ago to clean off the table in the dining room. i had a small side table with both their ashes, the flag, letters, commendations from my fathers service. my brother's art work and other memorabilia. i took my time cleaning it all and tucking it away. not all of it. but enough of it to make a small shift and start moving on a little bit. it was hard. i cried. the strange thing is that the objects i put away- the flag, the letters, the plaques- they weren't my dad. they were all things that came along after he passed. they weren't the pieces that held him to me. that made it easier to put them away. the pieces of him- his badge, his ashes- those are still out. those won't ever be tucked away completely. maybe in a shadow box in the office sometime in the future, but never away. same with steve. his art work and ashes are still out. i still think of him.

the topic of suicide has come up quite a bit lately (not me, don't get your panties in a twist. i'm good on that front). i've heard more and more people talking about it. quite frankly, it pisses me off. i love steve. i still do. and i completely and totally understand why he made the decision he did. IT DOES NOT MAKE IT THE RIGHT ONE. the kid had a hard hand though. ptsd, severe brain trauma, physical rehab, bankruptcy, shattered personal relationships, crazy family stress, just a whole stack against him. was it anything he couldn't over come? no. there's always another answer. but i get it.

so then i see people bandy about the suicide word for tivial shit- "oh, i had problems with a boy", "oh, not enough people are paying attention to me" i'm sure their problems are just as tragic to them, but no where near the MOUNTAIN of shit steve was facing. and it still wasn't the right answer for him. and it makes me so angry. and YES, i've been in that corner. i've been open about all that before. i've had my back against the wall. i've had the mountain of shit staring me down. i'm the lucky one that's too crazy to make the wrong choice- the dishes needed finished first, i couldn't go out with a dirty bathroom for someone else to clean up, there was a stack of papers at work i hadn't finished- the BIG one- who the fuck could i ever trust to raise my kids MY way? no way in fuck could i ever go through with something, but yes, i've been in that corner staring down that demon. i know how hard it is. i guess there's just a difference to me between REAL shit happening all around you, physical, tangible things happening and emotional shit. one isn't any worse than the other i suppose. i just don't understand the other one. then again, i've never been good at the emotional crap and understanding other people. i'm too logical i guess. or perhaps just too much of a cold hearted bitch.

and i guess it just makes me irrationally angry that when people bandy the word about for trivial things it cheapens what steve did. and i know that probably doesn't make any sense to anyone but me. and the real bare bones truth of it is- when i hear people bandy that fucking word about it makes me remember that he made that choice. that i lost him to that dark corner and i can never have him back. and i know what that feels like. and it makes me so angry to think of other people doing that to the ones they'd leave behind. my birthday is in a few days. his would have been another week or so after that. he would have been 30 this year. and i miss him. and i miss my dad. and it's fucking hell sitting here in the middle of the night typing this shit.

i miss having a family. i'm still angry that- well, more things than i can cram into a stupid blog.

huh. well that took a turn for the interesting. no wonder i couldn't sleep with all that rattling around up in the old noodle.

hold please while i calm the fuck down.

anyway. there's a lot of changes in the next few weeks. ages, schedules, work paths, school. the official launch of the magazine is right around the corner- i'm officially the editor now instead of simply an occasional contributing writer. still in a whirlwind about how that happened. i'm actually excited to see how things go, not terrified for the first time in a long time. i'm ready to see what's next. i'm feeling like a real, grown up together person. probably won't last long, but it's a curious experience none the less. i'm ok with who i am and the choices that have brought me here. i'm confident being a touchstone for other people, i'm confident being an example for the first time in a long time. i'm working on being confident as a parent- damn teenagers have a way of rocking that boat. can't even pretend to be a duck with that one either- calm on the surface, paddling like hell underneath- not around here. it's just a whole flurry of crazy when that boat rocks too far. we're learning together i guess.  i'm learning to be a confident (body, mind, self image) woman. that one is taking time. i'm confident as a writer. i'm confident as a worker.

best of all, i'm pretty damn confident i can finally get some sleep now. emptied out the rattle trap. welcome to insomniac writing.

girl problems

i’m going to rant. it’s going to be mean, it’s going to be ugly, it’s going to be judgmental. so. you know. if you’re not in the mood for that, turn away now.

you’ve been warned.

so. the oldest spawn had a girlfriend for a while. now. i’m not a big fan of the whole girlfriend thing at this age (he’s 12 if you’re playing along at home) BUT i know that they’ll fade and break up on their own soon enough so there’s really no need for me to be sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. i tried to keep my opinions to myself on this one, but i didn’t do a very good job. BUT THERE WAS A REASON.

right about the same time the spawn acquired this cling-on he was also allowed to set up an email account. i told him i would be checking it from time to time until we establish a good level of trust that it’s being used properly. he understands and is ok with this.

so with the email account came emails from the girlfriend.

i get that they’re 12. i get that they’re hormonal. i get that things are different now than 18 years ago when i went through all this crap. i get it. i do. BUT. there’s some things that still are not ok.

this girl is a FREAK. and for me, the queen of slightly off kilter to say that…it’s bad. it’s fucked up. it started with the “i love you” bullshit. i personally think that 12 years old is way too young to be saying things like that. ESPECIALLY the first week you’re “dating” someone. are you fucking kidding me? emo much? FUCK. then comes the bullshit of “my mom is so happy that i’m with you now because i was always depressed and suicidal before”

YOU’RE TWELVE YEARS OLD. are you fucking kidding me parents? you’re teaching your daughter that it’s ok to put that on someone else? to let her make someone else feel responsible for her happiness? what the fuck happened to teaching your daughter to like herself and be comfortable and secure ALONE? how dare you let her put that pressure on my son?

then comes the bullshit of “why don’t you say i love you anymore? are you getting tired of me? i can’t imagine my life without you…”

OH HELL NO. you’re not starting some bullshit drama up in here. my son is NOT required to tell you he loves you to keep you happy. you are NOT allowed to put all this pressure on him and make him feel like if he wants to get out of it (like most 12 year olds tend to do) that he’s ruining your life or risking you hurting yourself. OH FUCK NO YOU DON’T.

but then things mellowed out for a while, the school break came up, things naturally cooled off and i backed off. **NOTE: i wasn’t doing anything during all the drama besides reminding my son he is NOT responsible for another person’s emotions. he can’t make someone happy (or sad) that is THEIR decision. he needs to treat all people with respect and be a good person, he’s not allowed to be mean to people, make fun of them, any of that, but from there on out the responsibility is on the other person.

so. they went on their first little “date.” it was annoying. whatever. typical 12 year old date. they went for frozen yogurt and he sat at one table, she sat at a different table with her friends and the girls chatted while my son made origami. nothing big. then they went on a second "date" to the movies on sunday. all cool, mellow, no big deal.

*sigh*

then they went back to school. and the shit hit the fan. i guess on monday my son let this little gal know that he wanted to hang out with his friends a bit since they haven’t seen each other for a few weeks during break. no big deal. BUT during recess another girl happened to have the audacity to talk to my son. and the world ended. and the emails flooded in. all the insecurity came pouring out. i guess there were MANY tears in the hallway at school and much drama. the girlfriend saw my spawn talking to this other girl and all hell broke loose about “i know she’s prettier and smarter than me, but it would tear me apart to lose you, i can’t imagine my life without you” and all this bullshit.

OH FUCK NO. he’s allowed to talk to whomever he wants with no drama. there’s none of this pushing your insecurity on my son. i get that you’re 12 and you’re going through the awkward hormonal phase. but COME ON. the girlfriend spent hours in the hallway at school crying because some other girl talked to him for two minutes while he was hanging out with guy friends. oh lordy. i fucking hate girls.

so. my spawn decides he doesn’t want to put up with the drama. we talk about it, i explain why it bothers me, i explain that i understand that he likes her and the decision is his. we talk about ways to make it better or to “break up” without causing more problems. i remind him that this is HIS business, he doesn’t need to talk about it with all the people in school and try to get friends going against each other or finding things out. i try to guide him through it a little bit. there’s no reason to make it into a whole school issue of he-said, she-said back and forth and causing problems in the hallways.

so. he decides to go ahead and “break up” with her. i told him he can blame me, i told him he could say he’s not old enough to deal with all the emotions and responsibilities of this (he’s really not yet), i told him he could just say he wants to hang out with his friends and have her be a friend again…lots of options.

so yesterday at school i guess he did the deed: he told her that he’s not old enough for something this serious right now and he wants to wait until he’s older to date someone and say things about being in love with them. he wants to just hang out and be friends again and not have to worry about all the other stuff. i have no idea how he actually said it, i’m sure it wasn’t the smoothest process, they are 12 after all, but i think he did the best he could.

but. *sigh* drama was not to be avoided. at least it wasn’t in the hallways at school this time. it was all via email. and the email went something like this (yes, i looked. yes, i copied and pasted. yes, i’m sure on some level that’s a bad parent thing to do. but…oh hell, i don’t care. whatever. here’s her email)

If you are wondering why I'm not upset, it's because I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for being an idiot. I was hot headed, jealous and rushed things. So I'm not mad at you.

I was really suicidal about everything for awhile.

I just wanted to ask you if we could stay friends. If you want to, we can wait until were older to be boyfriend and girlfriend again. But if you don't want to, I understand. Can we pretend like nothing happened and just be friends for now until the day you want to be together again? (if that day comes)

DID YOU CATCH THAT? a twelve year old girl is suicidal about breaking up? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE PARENTS AT IN THIS BULLSHIT?? this girl needs some HELP. i can’t believe at 12 she can even pretend to have a grasp of what that means. or what it implies. or what responsibility that puts onto other people. WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE PARENTS? why are you letting your daughter be this way? why aren’t you looking for ways to help her? why aren’t you teaching her to be a strong confident young lady? why are you allowing her to learn to hinge her happiness on others? why are you teaching her to validate herself in relationships? ESPECIALLY AT THIS TENDER AGE? in the middle of hormones and growing up and not knowing anything. THIS IS WHEN YOU TEACH THEM. this is when you guide them. you DO NOT let your 12 year old daughter make my son feel like he’s going to cause her to commit suicide. we’ve dealt with suicide in our family. I KNOW what it means. I KNOW what it does to other people. I KNOW how it makes people feel. you may NOT let your daughter put that on my son. PARENTS: PULL YOUR FUCKING PREPPY HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND DO SOMETHING HERE.

so. the spawn and i had a long talk last night. we talked about how the girl might feel this way. we talked again about how it’s not his responsibility to make her happy. it’s not ok for her to make him feel the pressure of her being suicidal or not. she’s growing up and going through changes the same way he is, and she’s trying to learn how to deal with all the emotions and things, just not in the right way yet apparently. we talked about how it may be best to just be friends with people for a few years to avoid more problems like this. he can totally blame me if he wants, tell them that his mom won’t let him have a girlfriend. i’m completely ok being the bad guy in these situations. i reminded him again today before school to ignore all the talk in the hallways, it’s no one’s business but his. her friends can’t make him fell bad. he doesn’t need to discuss all the details and talk about it- it will only make things worse and cause more problems. water off a ducks back. they’ll probably be mean because she’s hurt and they want to defend her- that’s ok. it’s all part of the process…just don’t get into it with them. let it slide. just keep walking and stay out of it.

i know today is going to be a hard one for him. i know that girls (and their friends) can be vicious and mean when things like this happen. i know people are going to be talking and blaming and whatever. i hope he makes it through the day relatively unscathed. i’m REALLY glad that he has the boys and girls club after school- the director there (bobby) is REALLY great about helping the guys through stuff like this, giving them good advice, listening, being there for them.

i’m just mad as fuck that he’s had to learn this already- especially to this extreme. grumpy mama bear.

stupid girls.