I HOPE YOU HAVE A KID JUST LIKE YOU.
anyone else besides me hear that growing up?
i know i wasn't an easy child. there's probably a million and twelve reasons why i was the way i was but i think, for me, it mostly boiled down to never belonging- didn't belong at home, didn't belong to a group of friends, was LOUSY at sports (softball, volleyball, swimming). i wasn't hard core enough for the theater group and wasn't interested in science or math clubs. and, of course, the only thing i REALLY wanted, was to fit in.
it didn't help that i had a mom that didn't know what to do with me or how to talk to me. my first period was me sitting in the bathroom reading the instructions in the tampon box because you just don't talk about things like that. my sex ed talk was...ooops. too late. time to make an obgyn appointment.
my mom started sticking me in counseling somewhere around jr high because i guess it was easier to (have insurance) pay someone to talk to me than try to do it herself.
i HATED counselors. there was the one i refused to talk to because he wore a red plaid shirt and tucked his jeans into his cowboy boots (seriously- you want me to talk about stuff with THAT guy?). there was the SUPER religious lady that didn't talk to me but had me fill out worksheets and packets. there was the gal i *thought* was good until years later when i realized she didn't even know who i was or remember even the most basic things about me (like how i had a baby at 17 and ended up working with her, TRAVELLING TOGETHER, talking to teens about teen pregnancy, and she didn't remember me. awesome.)
my least favorite though was our church youth pastor. he's the one that decided i needed to "...confess my sins (pregnancy) before the whole youth group so they heard it from me instead of the gossip in the school hallways." GREAT. let me admit to getting knocked up to a group of kids who already don't like me. NOT SCARRING AT ALL.
i think my favorite interaction with him was when he asked me: "What do you plan on being when you grow up?" in all my teenage glory i stubbornly answered: "I'M NOT GOING TO GROW UP..." and while he laughed at me, i FINISHED my thought: "...BECAUSE IF GROWING UP MEANS BEING LIKE YOU AND MAKING FUN OF KIDS AND NOT HELPING THEM I WANT NO PART IN IT." and he quickly stopped laughing and shortly thereafter quit "counseling" me and quit being a youth pastor and moved to Iowa and became a computer technician (true story).
i know i wasn't an easy kid. i got kicked out of high school for 30 days my freshman year for "having a weapon on campus." i had been threatened multiple times, IN FRONT OF TEACHERS (thanks alice gintz), in front of other students and had tried telling my parents, but no one listened, and i wasn't going down without a fight. NOT A GREAT DECISION, but what else do you do when people are threatening to kill you every. single. day? the "weapon" was my brother's pocket knife- maybe a 1.5" blade that i had NO IDEA what to do with, just seemed like something was better than nothing. as a result of my spectacular decision, i was shoved into MORE counseling, missed a month of school, was STILL bullied when i got back, and had the additional fun of being called "slash" for the next 3 years.
my junior and senior year i tried out for cheer leading because, according to my brother, "...theater is so LAME. why don't you try doing something less embarrassing?"
well, as small towns go: cheerleaders date football players, and when you date a football player OF COURSE you have sex, and then 9 months later you wonder if freezing your ass off in a skirt that was way too short for three months was worth it because now you're even MORE embarrassing as the little sister that got knocked up.
i was not an easy child.
well, fast forward 17 years and i have a child just. like. me.
on counseling: "real men deal with their own issues and don't need help." it's no plaid shirt and cowboy boots, but maybe he's not as fashion sensitive as i am. although, coming from his pre-teen self, that is a little more along the lines of my spectacular "i'm not going to grow up" (which i still, to this day, stand by).
on first periods: he didn't talk to me about his either. wait...what? he DID talk to me about his first crush, his first kiss, and we used to be able to talk about everything. that's changed in the last few years though.
on making spectacular life altering decisions at 17: well. his decision won't result in poopy diapers, but it sure a full load of shit to deal with.
i have a bit more respect for my mom dealing with me through my teen years now. well, maybe not dealing with me, but for not kicking me out of the house or making things worse when i was challenging. to this day she's still more of an avoider than a dealer. i'm more of a dealer than an avoider. generational changes and whatnot. i put her through grief. there's no question about it. but she helped advocate for me to be able to finish high school, she helped with daycare while i went to the community college, and let me live at home the first 9 months until i was able to get my first apartment.
i have more respect for my son's paternal grandparents now. they watched their son, a junior, end up in a not great situation and stood by him as he struggled a little longer than i did to sort things out. they were patient and supportive of me while he took his time settling into responsibility and to this day are..well..some of the most amazing, big hearted, least judgmental people i know.
and while watching my son struggle to find his way and make hard decisions and make a mess of things is KILLING ME, i can look and see that people before me have made it through difficult teenagers. i can't fix this for him. i can't make it all go away. i made my decisions and had to figure shit out real quick. he'll have to do the same.
i was not an easy child. he comes by it rightly.
but i made it through. and he'll make it through. he is just like me after all. we don't give up easily.
Tuesday, November 10, 2015
Monday, November 9, 2015
statistical nightmare
i am a very shallow person.
i care a great deal what people think of me and what labels people attach not only to me, but my kids, our family, our life.
i spend an insane amount of time and money crafting what i want to be perceived as. i work really hard to not look sloppy or lazy when i go to work, the store, sports practices, parent teacher meetings. i work hard to have a nice house- mostly clean, nice furniture, decorated in my quirky personal taste but still pleasant for anyone who visits. i work hard to have a nice life.
and my kids.
good. heavens. there is no limit to what i would do for my kids. i have gone toe to toe with teachers, principals, coaches making sure my kids aren't labeled or treated differently. i've battled my own kids to make sure they know how to behave, how to be polite. i've all but drug them into the shower to make sure they aren't the smelly kid in class. i put extra effort into snack days to make sure we have the "good" snacks. i made sure they had nice clothes (not name brand, but nice, none the less). i've made sure they were able to participate in sports, have friends over. i've sat through so. many. conferences and open houses and band concerts. i've volunteered in the classroom and on field trips. i want my kids to be smart and successful and decent contributing members of society.
i feel like i have, and will forever be battling the stigma and statistics of being a teen mom. i made it a point to go to college with a baby on my hip because he deserved a mom that could provide a good life. i fought so hard to get off public assistance (daycare and food stamps) after college and again after my divorce (housing assistance and food stamps (again)). i fought to leave an abusive marriage because i didn't want that life or example for my kids. i have worked so hard to not be the failure and drain on society that is expected from someone who "had a baby while still a baby."
and yet here i am, 17 years into it, becoming a grim statistic.and it's killing me on so many different levels.
last monday my son was arrested.
my 17 year old kid spent a night in juvy for assaulting his dad. he will appear before a judge in a few weeks and there is the possibility that they will charge him with assault 2 as an adult due to his age (he would probably be 18 by the time it went to a jury) and the severity of the assault. that's a felony.
that's his adult life on the line. that's every college application, every job application. that's strike one on the three strike law.
he's a junior in high school, opting into running start for now. he still has a full year left before he graduates. what would it look like to have a felony before you graduate? how would it impact his education? he is SMART. incredibly smart. he could have any career he wants. but not with a felony on his record.
he is SO ANGRY and mean. he has been for years. that's why he doesn't live with me any more. he has refused help, counseling, reason. he has wallowed in his anger for years letting it get stronger and increasingly mean and violent. he brags about threatening and intimidating kids at school. he thinks vandalism is funny. he took a few swings at me in the past, and now not only took a swing at but connected with his dad resulting in serious injury.
everything i've worked so hard for feels like it's slipping away. and it sounds selfish and petty, but I DON'T WANT TO BE THE TEEN MOM OF A FELON. i don't want us to become another statistic: a single mom with a kid that's "in the system." i don't want to be a failure. i don't want him to be a failure.
i don't know how to help him. he's finally agreed to counseling. whether to avoid jail or to actually get help remains to be seen. i hope, with everything i have, it's to get help and resolve his anger and remove the violence and urge to settle things with his fists. he HAS to learn that he can't act this way. he can't start swinging in a bar. he can't start swinging at a boss. he REALLY can NEVER start swinging at a girlfriend or spouse.
and here's where it gets SUPER shallow and petty:
i don't want to feel like trash but that's all i feel like right now. i feel like i should be living in stained, faded, holey "pink" sweats, a smoke saturated worn out oversized hoodie, stained and worn out uggs (knock off brand of course), living in a trailer park in a trailer that has buckets strategically placed on rainy days, where keeping the lights on or groceries in the cupboard is an either or, not a both. i should be driving a car that you have to start with a screwdriver, have a snot nosed baby stuck in a playpen crying all day long while i finish smoking pack 22 of american spirits while i watch soap operas and yell at husband number 17 to quit scratching his belly button and get a damn job already. AND I KNOW THAT'S SUPER JUDGMENTAL AND STEREOTYPICAL AND MEAN.
i had a date scheduled for last monday before all this happened. i got the call monday night as i was getting ready and decided that since there was nothing i could do across the state, i may as well go ahead with the date. i was on the phone with my brother discussing appearances and charges and what all the legal jibberish means as i sat in the mcdonalds parking lot waiting to go in and meet the poor date guy. i probably should have cancelled, but i didn't want to be a flake. so in i went, and tried to take a quick moment to pull myself together. didn't work so well. i ended up telling poor date guy: "...give me just a second, trying to get in the right head space, didn't want to cancel on you, but just found out my son has been arrested."
GREAT START TO A DATE.
awesome. not only a chick with kids, but a chick with kids IN JAIL. gee, why haven't i heard from him again?
I KNOW. I SHOULD BE MORE WORRIED ABOUT MY KID THAN MY DATING LIFE. I FULLY ADMIT TO BEING A HORRIBLE PERSON.
of course, when it rains, it pours, at the same time all this is happening, the small child decides it's time to test boundaries too. he made a stupid comment in wood shop class, a girl went home and repeated it to her dad, dad went to the superintendent of the school district and wanted to press sexual harassment charges against my son (incident went something like this: they're making wooden c02 cars to race: girl: i know what you're going to use the c02 hole for. my kid: we know what you're going to use your dildo car for."). so my son gets 2 days in-school-intervention and has to change his whole school schedule so he won't have any more classes with the girl. he just got done with a week of lunch detention for being caught in the middle of a fight (that he was trying to break up). he's also failing science.
so one kid in jail, one kid in school detention of one form or another.
SUPER SUCCESSFUL PARENTING MOMENT. frame that fucking snapshot and put it on the fridge.
i am not a bad mom. i am not a bad person. i don't want either of my kids to be delinquents. or felons. or failures. we have some hard days ahead. there will be parent teacher meetings and court appearances and hard decisions and consequences all around. but, in the mean time, please don't think poorly of me. please don't label me the single teen mom statistic. please don't judge us too harshly.
i care a great deal what people think of me and what labels people attach not only to me, but my kids, our family, our life.
i spend an insane amount of time and money crafting what i want to be perceived as. i work really hard to not look sloppy or lazy when i go to work, the store, sports practices, parent teacher meetings. i work hard to have a nice house- mostly clean, nice furniture, decorated in my quirky personal taste but still pleasant for anyone who visits. i work hard to have a nice life.
and my kids.
good. heavens. there is no limit to what i would do for my kids. i have gone toe to toe with teachers, principals, coaches making sure my kids aren't labeled or treated differently. i've battled my own kids to make sure they know how to behave, how to be polite. i've all but drug them into the shower to make sure they aren't the smelly kid in class. i put extra effort into snack days to make sure we have the "good" snacks. i made sure they had nice clothes (not name brand, but nice, none the less). i've made sure they were able to participate in sports, have friends over. i've sat through so. many. conferences and open houses and band concerts. i've volunteered in the classroom and on field trips. i want my kids to be smart and successful and decent contributing members of society.
i feel like i have, and will forever be battling the stigma and statistics of being a teen mom. i made it a point to go to college with a baby on my hip because he deserved a mom that could provide a good life. i fought so hard to get off public assistance (daycare and food stamps) after college and again after my divorce (housing assistance and food stamps (again)). i fought to leave an abusive marriage because i didn't want that life or example for my kids. i have worked so hard to not be the failure and drain on society that is expected from someone who "had a baby while still a baby."
and yet here i am, 17 years into it, becoming a grim statistic.and it's killing me on so many different levels.
last monday my son was arrested.
my 17 year old kid spent a night in juvy for assaulting his dad. he will appear before a judge in a few weeks and there is the possibility that they will charge him with assault 2 as an adult due to his age (he would probably be 18 by the time it went to a jury) and the severity of the assault. that's a felony.
that's his adult life on the line. that's every college application, every job application. that's strike one on the three strike law.
he's a junior in high school, opting into running start for now. he still has a full year left before he graduates. what would it look like to have a felony before you graduate? how would it impact his education? he is SMART. incredibly smart. he could have any career he wants. but not with a felony on his record.
he is SO ANGRY and mean. he has been for years. that's why he doesn't live with me any more. he has refused help, counseling, reason. he has wallowed in his anger for years letting it get stronger and increasingly mean and violent. he brags about threatening and intimidating kids at school. he thinks vandalism is funny. he took a few swings at me in the past, and now not only took a swing at but connected with his dad resulting in serious injury.
everything i've worked so hard for feels like it's slipping away. and it sounds selfish and petty, but I DON'T WANT TO BE THE TEEN MOM OF A FELON. i don't want us to become another statistic: a single mom with a kid that's "in the system." i don't want to be a failure. i don't want him to be a failure.
i don't know how to help him. he's finally agreed to counseling. whether to avoid jail or to actually get help remains to be seen. i hope, with everything i have, it's to get help and resolve his anger and remove the violence and urge to settle things with his fists. he HAS to learn that he can't act this way. he can't start swinging in a bar. he can't start swinging at a boss. he REALLY can NEVER start swinging at a girlfriend or spouse.
and here's where it gets SUPER shallow and petty:
i don't want to feel like trash but that's all i feel like right now. i feel like i should be living in stained, faded, holey "pink" sweats, a smoke saturated worn out oversized hoodie, stained and worn out uggs (knock off brand of course), living in a trailer park in a trailer that has buckets strategically placed on rainy days, where keeping the lights on or groceries in the cupboard is an either or, not a both. i should be driving a car that you have to start with a screwdriver, have a snot nosed baby stuck in a playpen crying all day long while i finish smoking pack 22 of american spirits while i watch soap operas and yell at husband number 17 to quit scratching his belly button and get a damn job already. AND I KNOW THAT'S SUPER JUDGMENTAL AND STEREOTYPICAL AND MEAN.
i had a date scheduled for last monday before all this happened. i got the call monday night as i was getting ready and decided that since there was nothing i could do across the state, i may as well go ahead with the date. i was on the phone with my brother discussing appearances and charges and what all the legal jibberish means as i sat in the mcdonalds parking lot waiting to go in and meet the poor date guy. i probably should have cancelled, but i didn't want to be a flake. so in i went, and tried to take a quick moment to pull myself together. didn't work so well. i ended up telling poor date guy: "...give me just a second, trying to get in the right head space, didn't want to cancel on you, but just found out my son has been arrested."
GREAT START TO A DATE.
awesome. not only a chick with kids, but a chick with kids IN JAIL. gee, why haven't i heard from him again?
I KNOW. I SHOULD BE MORE WORRIED ABOUT MY KID THAN MY DATING LIFE. I FULLY ADMIT TO BEING A HORRIBLE PERSON.
of course, when it rains, it pours, at the same time all this is happening, the small child decides it's time to test boundaries too. he made a stupid comment in wood shop class, a girl went home and repeated it to her dad, dad went to the superintendent of the school district and wanted to press sexual harassment charges against my son (incident went something like this: they're making wooden c02 cars to race: girl: i know what you're going to use the c02 hole for. my kid: we know what you're going to use your dildo car for."). so my son gets 2 days in-school-intervention and has to change his whole school schedule so he won't have any more classes with the girl. he just got done with a week of lunch detention for being caught in the middle of a fight (that he was trying to break up). he's also failing science.
so one kid in jail, one kid in school detention of one form or another.
SUPER SUCCESSFUL PARENTING MOMENT. frame that fucking snapshot and put it on the fridge.
i am not a bad mom. i am not a bad person. i don't want either of my kids to be delinquents. or felons. or failures. we have some hard days ahead. there will be parent teacher meetings and court appearances and hard decisions and consequences all around. but, in the mean time, please don't think poorly of me. please don't label me the single teen mom statistic. please don't judge us too harshly.
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
lesbian for a night
so. i went out to the bar last thursday to see a band (well the bass player in a band).
i went alone, but ended up meeting some other people that were friends of the band and we all ended up at a table together. one of the gals was well toasted before the music even started and was...well...lets just say there's a stereotype about drunk white girls in the club for a reason.
at some point during the evening she happened to draw the attention of a guy across the dance floor who honed in on her inebriated state and decided it was a prime time to hit on her. i left to go to the bathroom and when i came back the guy was still hitting on her and one of the other people in the group leaned across the table and whispered: "we told him you're her girlfriend."
awesome. lesbian for a night.
now. i have a few problems with this.
#1: JUST SAY NO. if you don't like the guy hitting on you, tell him to fuck off. if he's persistent, find a bouncer or a bartender, or the other people at your table to back you up. just because someone, guy, girl, whomever starts hitting on you doesn't mean you have to put up with it.
#2: guy instantly piped up with the: "prove it" line when i sat down. my reply was the same as it would be gay or straight (or, as i happen to be, bi): I DON'T HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING TO YOU. i'm sorry if you got your tiny little dick hurt by her not being interested, but that doesn't mean i have to put on a show for you to "prove" anything. I said this, not quietly, to the guy and he just stared at me. so i said it again, LOUDER: I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO MAKE OUT WITH A CHICK TO PROVE YOU'RE STRAIGHT, I DON'T HAVE TO PUT ON A FUCKING SHOW TO DEFEND MY SEXUALITY TO YOU." (may have been just a bit more colorful than this, but you get the idea).
THIS IS AN ISSUE. guys think it's cool to get a free girl on girl show, or worse, that they deserve a girl on girl show to sooth their bruised small dick ego. NO. YOU DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING. she should have been able to say no without having to feel like she needed an excuse. i'm not going to play along with her excuse, but even if i was, making out with some random chick at a bar doesn't PROVE anything.
guy persisted even more, dropping the "well, you would be interested if you knew i killed people for a living." line. WAS THAT A THREAT? or meant to impress me? or just you attempting one more time to save your tiny dick from being totally crushed by my lack of fucks given about whether you approve of me or not?
me: oh, you do? where do you work?
asshole: department of defense.
now. i'm not a rocket surgeon, but i'm pretty sure if you work for department of defense "killing people" you shouldn't be drunkenly talking about it in a bar. MAYBE THAT'S JUST ME.
either way, i showed him my badge and he quickly exited stage left.
drunk girl went back to being drunk, and people across the table laughed at both how blunt i was with him and how quickly he left. after things calmed down a bit, i asked one of them: "so. does it make a difference that i actually AM bi?" they didn't particularly have an answer besides shock, but i wasn't asked to "be a lesbian" again the rest of the evening.
overall, it's just...THIS IS INSULTING TO ME. i'm not an out and open and all over the place bi-sexual. i have never marched for gay rights, i don't attend political rallies of any type. i've been to pride a few years running but more as a volunteer/ally than as a bi-sexual woman. this is actually as open and public as i've been about being bi. (surprise to those of you who may not have known). but, i DO know people that have FOUGHT for their rights. that were on the front lines for marriage equality. people that still have to hide their sexuality, people that still face risk and discrimination.
THE FACT THAT THIS IS STILL A BAR JOKE/TRICK IS INSULTING. you think it's ok to play gay for a few minutes? no, it isn't. it isn't ok to make light of something people still struggle daily with to make someone go away. conversely, it isn't ok to to use pretend gay to draw more attention (the "look, i'm gay, make me straight for a night" challenge). IT ISN'T OK IN ANY WAY.
there's also the whole assuming i would go along with it factor...presumptuous much?
it may not seem like a big issue in the overall scheme of things. it isn't the first time i've been asked to be someones girlfriend to make a guy go away. it also isn't the first time the guy asked me to "prove it" and i know it probably won't be the last.
it's just...it sucks. and it's wrong. and that's all i have to say about that.
i went alone, but ended up meeting some other people that were friends of the band and we all ended up at a table together. one of the gals was well toasted before the music even started and was...well...lets just say there's a stereotype about drunk white girls in the club for a reason.
at some point during the evening she happened to draw the attention of a guy across the dance floor who honed in on her inebriated state and decided it was a prime time to hit on her. i left to go to the bathroom and when i came back the guy was still hitting on her and one of the other people in the group leaned across the table and whispered: "we told him you're her girlfriend."
awesome. lesbian for a night.
now. i have a few problems with this.
#1: JUST SAY NO. if you don't like the guy hitting on you, tell him to fuck off. if he's persistent, find a bouncer or a bartender, or the other people at your table to back you up. just because someone, guy, girl, whomever starts hitting on you doesn't mean you have to put up with it.
#2: guy instantly piped up with the: "prove it" line when i sat down. my reply was the same as it would be gay or straight (or, as i happen to be, bi): I DON'T HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING TO YOU. i'm sorry if you got your tiny little dick hurt by her not being interested, but that doesn't mean i have to put on a show for you to "prove" anything. I said this, not quietly, to the guy and he just stared at me. so i said it again, LOUDER: I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO MAKE OUT WITH A CHICK TO PROVE YOU'RE STRAIGHT, I DON'T HAVE TO PUT ON A FUCKING SHOW TO DEFEND MY SEXUALITY TO YOU." (may have been just a bit more colorful than this, but you get the idea).
THIS IS AN ISSUE. guys think it's cool to get a free girl on girl show, or worse, that they deserve a girl on girl show to sooth their bruised small dick ego. NO. YOU DON'T DESERVE ANYTHING. she should have been able to say no without having to feel like she needed an excuse. i'm not going to play along with her excuse, but even if i was, making out with some random chick at a bar doesn't PROVE anything.
guy persisted even more, dropping the "well, you would be interested if you knew i killed people for a living." line. WAS THAT A THREAT? or meant to impress me? or just you attempting one more time to save your tiny dick from being totally crushed by my lack of fucks given about whether you approve of me or not?
me: oh, you do? where do you work?
asshole: department of defense.
now. i'm not a rocket surgeon, but i'm pretty sure if you work for department of defense "killing people" you shouldn't be drunkenly talking about it in a bar. MAYBE THAT'S JUST ME.
either way, i showed him my badge and he quickly exited stage left.
drunk girl went back to being drunk, and people across the table laughed at both how blunt i was with him and how quickly he left. after things calmed down a bit, i asked one of them: "so. does it make a difference that i actually AM bi?" they didn't particularly have an answer besides shock, but i wasn't asked to "be a lesbian" again the rest of the evening.
overall, it's just...THIS IS INSULTING TO ME. i'm not an out and open and all over the place bi-sexual. i have never marched for gay rights, i don't attend political rallies of any type. i've been to pride a few years running but more as a volunteer/ally than as a bi-sexual woman. this is actually as open and public as i've been about being bi. (surprise to those of you who may not have known). but, i DO know people that have FOUGHT for their rights. that were on the front lines for marriage equality. people that still have to hide their sexuality, people that still face risk and discrimination.
THE FACT THAT THIS IS STILL A BAR JOKE/TRICK IS INSULTING. you think it's ok to play gay for a few minutes? no, it isn't. it isn't ok to make light of something people still struggle daily with to make someone go away. conversely, it isn't ok to to use pretend gay to draw more attention (the "look, i'm gay, make me straight for a night" challenge). IT ISN'T OK IN ANY WAY.
there's also the whole assuming i would go along with it factor...presumptuous much?
it may not seem like a big issue in the overall scheme of things. it isn't the first time i've been asked to be someones girlfriend to make a guy go away. it also isn't the first time the guy asked me to "prove it" and i know it probably won't be the last.
it's just...it sucks. and it's wrong. and that's all i have to say about that.
careful what you wish for
**EDITORS NOTE: found this post from a year ago that was never published. still relevant (if a little outdated), so hitting the publish now.**
I’m not sure how i ended up at 35, where all the years went or how they went so
fast. It almost feels like I’m stuck in tv sitcom time- you know how EVERYTHING
happens in a season and you realize it supposedly covered only a year of time.
Like Grey’s Anatomy (I know, a million years late, but
catching up now on Netflix) you’re three seasons in and you realize it’s been
ONE YEAR in their lives.
Well, like that but in reverse. Or something.
TIME GOES FAST YA’LL.
A while ago I learned a different way to phrase the "Where do you see yourself in 5 years" question; ask instead “what do you want more of in the
future and how do you get there.”
Well. Funny thing is, be careful what you wish for. And be
careful how you word things.
I wanted my house to be more calm and peaceful. Well, it is,
but at a HUGE cost with one of my kids moving across the state.
I wanted to experience a healthy relationship. I have my version of a health
relationship- someone that I care deeply about that cares about me. he just also happens to be very in love with his wife. (go ahead and judge, it
can’t be any worse than the things I’ve already said to myself).
I wanted a good stable career in a job I love. I have that,
but I’m also remembering all the things you miss by working all the time- weekends
spent catching up from the week, kiddo missing sports/activities because you
can’t leave work early all the time to play taxi. Rushing home from work to
make it to a meeting and realizing you only get 1 hour of awake time with your
kiddo before you’re onto another day.
It’s funny when you read the fine print on some of those
things you want. Like the pork-barrel spending attached to legislature.
Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
Trick is now to learn to better phrase things. Really think
through all angles and dial in what it is I really want before going after it.
Monday, October 26, 2015
jack-o-lantern smile
perhaps it's fitting that this week is halloween because i feel like a jack-o-lantern: hollow on the inside, missing most of my (metaphorical) teeth and waiting to either be forgotten and rot away or be smashed to bits by someone who either thinks its fun to destroy things or doesn't even really put any thought into what they're doing.
it's been a helluva few months.
this year started off with so much promise- writing, publishing, goals, THINGS. but life is what it is, time flies past before you even notice, and in the blink of an eye the universe has dumped you in a back alley at midnight, battered and bruised just waiting for the dawn of another year to start again fresh.
"if i can just make it through a few more months..."
then what? the mark of a new year doesn't signal a magic want to hit the refresh button. another few months are simply another few months leading to another few months.
i don't mean this to sound like a depressing spiral of time into nothingness. it's actually, twistedly, my attempt to remind myself that there is no magical restart button and i need to get my shit together NOW and quit waiting for...whatever. there is no sparkle glitter rainbow day on the calendar that makes adulting suddenly easy and manageable. there is no jackpot day that you land on that suddenly makes all your bills go away and your bank account never empty.
i'm not sure what adulting looks like right now besides barely managing to keep food in the house (really, grocery shopping is such a pain in the ass ordeal) and binge watching horrible shows on netflix (how the fuck did bones make it past the first season??)
i have a very limited social circle. i have a hard time spending money in bars to drink with strangers i have zero desire to interact with. i'm tired of going to events alone as talking to or mingling with strangers is just awkward at best, traumatizing (for them) at worst. i've survived several sports seasons now interacting with other parents only as necessary/required.
i'm heading into winter, aka depression season, felling the most damaged and alone as i have in a LONG time.
oddly though, i also feel fine. i've been (mostly) remembering to take my vitamins including a TON of vitamin D, i've been doing things for myself, allowing impulse buys as the budget allows, i'm doing ok. i'm just doing it alone.
a few months back i had someone ask if he could move in for a bit while he sorted things out after a break up. we were (i thought) good friends, knew each other well enough, and i had extra space, so why not? it quickly went downhill VERY fast for several reasons. i'm not used to living with anyone besides my kids. i've never had to have a roommate. for the very short time i was married he worked nights and i worked days and we barely saw each other. i knew it would be an adjustment, but i didn't know it would be so destructive and toxic. end of the day it turns out that i am...how did it go...uncommunicative, unwelcoming, and my house is unlivable/disgustingly dirty all the time. the overall experience ended up being costly- lost one of the very few people i counted as a friend and damaged a friendship with another who got caught in the crossfire of being my sounding board/his employee.
around the same time, the magazine i had been working for back at the beginning of the year contacted me again and asked me to write a few more pieces for them (apparently writers who work for free aren't as abundant as they thought). they wanted a few album/EP reviews. second verse, same as the first. last time they stopped asking me to contribute after i pushed back on a band they wanted to run as a cover story that i felt gave a horrible interview and took the whole process a bit too flippantly (including a separate on-air interview). this time around i apparently didn't make it known well enough that the reviews were my opinion, and came across as too harsh and negative in the reviews. my final assignment was for an artist interview that i was not comfortable doing as i knew it would end up almost exactly like the last interview. instead of wasting my time and the artists time and continue fighting a losing battle over my pieces, i instead tendered my resignation at the magazine. it was the only writing i had done in a while and the loss was not insignificant.
finally, the last few weeks have been a mess of doctors appointments and tests and major levels of panic. know how doctors warn women about breast cancer ALL THE TIME? and don't forget breast cancers ugly cousin, inflammatory breast cancer! so when i noticed itching, lactating, overnight increase in cup size, and general overall pain...cue panic. and doctors tests. and sleepless nights wondering who was going to take care of my kid if i had to be down any time at all. and stress about how i would afford medical bills when i can barely afford medical co-pays. and even a particularly depressing call to my mother to ask for family history since no one talks about ANYTHING. after blood work, a mammogram, and an ultrasound i was sent home with a resounding YOU'RE FINE but no actual answers aside from that. so yay, no cancer, but what the fuck?
none of these events are particularly traumatic. they're concerning. they're disheartening. they're panic inducing. they're hard. they messed with my self esteem, self image, sense of security and talent/ability. made me question myself at core levels. they've kicked me in the teeth and tipped my maslow's scale in all different directions and caused a general upheaval, but not a destructive hurricane.
but when you add them together they get bigger. and when they're in this giant lump and i'm staring at it, alone, with no one to talk to or help me pick it apart...it becomes hurricane potential.
my brain is this great and powerful beast. i'm smart. i can carry on intelligent conversations. i can remember details and facts with high accuracy. i can figure out problems and come up with solutions.
but: this beast never sleeps. it never turns off. it runs the same problems through over, and over and over again like a one of those fucking asshole DVD's that plays the start menu and the same crappy song on a continuous loop without ever shutting off but unlike the DVD there's not even a power button or an eject button to make all the noise go away (or even change to a different DVD). i think and rethink and dissect and analyze and review and consider and play out a million different options and endings. i retrace my steps and my processes looking for errors and way to improve or not fuck up again.
and when you're in that loop without a sounding board. when you're stuck with no one to talk to. when you just have your own never ending thoughts running full speed, all the time...it's lonely. and exhausting. it's destructive if you let it be, which, when you're exhausted happens all too easily. it's a bone weary exhaustion. there's no amount of sleep that can fix it because this stupid brain remembers exactly where it left off. you recharge or feel good for a few minutes but then it just all slips away and you don't even know what happened. i can leave work in a great mood, plenty of energy, but in my 15 minute drive home i think about grocery shopping, football practice, scraping together dinner after football practice without causing bed time to be too late, a call from the school, the chore chart that the kid has been ignoring, oh shit, school pictures are this week, i shouldn't have splurged on the manicure when school pictures are happening, oh fuck, did we remember to take the redbox movies back? oh wait, we didn't get red box movies, that was a few weeks ago. OH FUCK- did we take the ones back from a few weeks ago? i shouldn't be watching movies anyway. i should be reading books or writing. but my writing is shit anyway, so why bother writing at all? damn it, it's monday, i have a therapy appointment this afternoon and just missed the exit. why the fuck can i never remember where i'm going or when i have to be there? what am i even going to talk about at therapy this week? why am i even going to therapy if i don't know what i'm going to talk about? i'm probably just going to end up crying again over nothing and go home with a headache. i mean YEAH, it helps. and she helps me figure out what i need to talk about, but it's really just wasting her time. i'm sure there's people that need the appointment more than me. but, it's not like i would be doing anything at home anyway. might as well go. the next episode of greys anatomy can wait. i've already seen them all anyway. since i don't have a life. not like i have any pressing social engagements on my calendar...EVER. how lame are you that you NEVER have anything on your calendar besides kids doctors appointments and sports events? maybe if you weren't such a socially maladjusted freak you'd be able to make and keep a friend and then you would have somewhere to go and your therapist wouldn't be the one stuck listening to you all the time. that's right. the only person that listens to you is one you have to PAY to do it. maybe i should talk about that this week...
and so by the time i pull into my garage, in just 15 minutes, my energy is gone, my mood is crap, i just want to go to bed and stay there forever and ignore everyone and everything, but there's really nothing and no one to ignore which is even MORE depressing.
and so i'm just here. in this limbo of i feel fine but i know things aren't exactly fine. and i just feel hollow and empty and alone. and some days it's overwhelming and profound. and other days i don't even notice it and i'm glad to be able to read for hours on end without a single interruption. and at some point it would be nice to try to make friends again. and at some point it would be nice to write without feeling wrong. and at some point it would be nice to have something to look forward to.
but i'll keep smiling. i'll keep going to work. i'll keep making polite talk at football practice. i'll keep grocery shopping and i'll keep making dinner. i'll keep going on. and maybe, eventually, it won't seem so empty any more. maybe, eventually it will be fun again and there will be things to do and people to do them with. but, for now, this is the way it is. it's not optimal, but it's ok. and that's ok.
it's been a helluva few months.
this year started off with so much promise- writing, publishing, goals, THINGS. but life is what it is, time flies past before you even notice, and in the blink of an eye the universe has dumped you in a back alley at midnight, battered and bruised just waiting for the dawn of another year to start again fresh.
"if i can just make it through a few more months..."
then what? the mark of a new year doesn't signal a magic want to hit the refresh button. another few months are simply another few months leading to another few months.
i don't mean this to sound like a depressing spiral of time into nothingness. it's actually, twistedly, my attempt to remind myself that there is no magical restart button and i need to get my shit together NOW and quit waiting for...whatever. there is no sparkle glitter rainbow day on the calendar that makes adulting suddenly easy and manageable. there is no jackpot day that you land on that suddenly makes all your bills go away and your bank account never empty.
i'm not sure what adulting looks like right now besides barely managing to keep food in the house (really, grocery shopping is such a pain in the ass ordeal) and binge watching horrible shows on netflix (how the fuck did bones make it past the first season??)
i have a very limited social circle. i have a hard time spending money in bars to drink with strangers i have zero desire to interact with. i'm tired of going to events alone as talking to or mingling with strangers is just awkward at best, traumatizing (for them) at worst. i've survived several sports seasons now interacting with other parents only as necessary/required.
i'm heading into winter, aka depression season, felling the most damaged and alone as i have in a LONG time.
oddly though, i also feel fine. i've been (mostly) remembering to take my vitamins including a TON of vitamin D, i've been doing things for myself, allowing impulse buys as the budget allows, i'm doing ok. i'm just doing it alone.
a few months back i had someone ask if he could move in for a bit while he sorted things out after a break up. we were (i thought) good friends, knew each other well enough, and i had extra space, so why not? it quickly went downhill VERY fast for several reasons. i'm not used to living with anyone besides my kids. i've never had to have a roommate. for the very short time i was married he worked nights and i worked days and we barely saw each other. i knew it would be an adjustment, but i didn't know it would be so destructive and toxic. end of the day it turns out that i am...how did it go...uncommunicative, unwelcoming, and my house is unlivable/disgustingly dirty all the time. the overall experience ended up being costly- lost one of the very few people i counted as a friend and damaged a friendship with another who got caught in the crossfire of being my sounding board/his employee.
around the same time, the magazine i had been working for back at the beginning of the year contacted me again and asked me to write a few more pieces for them (apparently writers who work for free aren't as abundant as they thought). they wanted a few album/EP reviews. second verse, same as the first. last time they stopped asking me to contribute after i pushed back on a band they wanted to run as a cover story that i felt gave a horrible interview and took the whole process a bit too flippantly (including a separate on-air interview). this time around i apparently didn't make it known well enough that the reviews were my opinion, and came across as too harsh and negative in the reviews. my final assignment was for an artist interview that i was not comfortable doing as i knew it would end up almost exactly like the last interview. instead of wasting my time and the artists time and continue fighting a losing battle over my pieces, i instead tendered my resignation at the magazine. it was the only writing i had done in a while and the loss was not insignificant.
finally, the last few weeks have been a mess of doctors appointments and tests and major levels of panic. know how doctors warn women about breast cancer ALL THE TIME? and don't forget breast cancers ugly cousin, inflammatory breast cancer! so when i noticed itching, lactating, overnight increase in cup size, and general overall pain...cue panic. and doctors tests. and sleepless nights wondering who was going to take care of my kid if i had to be down any time at all. and stress about how i would afford medical bills when i can barely afford medical co-pays. and even a particularly depressing call to my mother to ask for family history since no one talks about ANYTHING. after blood work, a mammogram, and an ultrasound i was sent home with a resounding YOU'RE FINE but no actual answers aside from that. so yay, no cancer, but what the fuck?
none of these events are particularly traumatic. they're concerning. they're disheartening. they're panic inducing. they're hard. they messed with my self esteem, self image, sense of security and talent/ability. made me question myself at core levels. they've kicked me in the teeth and tipped my maslow's scale in all different directions and caused a general upheaval, but not a destructive hurricane.
but when you add them together they get bigger. and when they're in this giant lump and i'm staring at it, alone, with no one to talk to or help me pick it apart...it becomes hurricane potential.
my brain is this great and powerful beast. i'm smart. i can carry on intelligent conversations. i can remember details and facts with high accuracy. i can figure out problems and come up with solutions.
but: this beast never sleeps. it never turns off. it runs the same problems through over, and over and over again like a one of those fucking asshole DVD's that plays the start menu and the same crappy song on a continuous loop without ever shutting off but unlike the DVD there's not even a power button or an eject button to make all the noise go away (or even change to a different DVD). i think and rethink and dissect and analyze and review and consider and play out a million different options and endings. i retrace my steps and my processes looking for errors and way to improve or not fuck up again.
and when you're in that loop without a sounding board. when you're stuck with no one to talk to. when you just have your own never ending thoughts running full speed, all the time...it's lonely. and exhausting. it's destructive if you let it be, which, when you're exhausted happens all too easily. it's a bone weary exhaustion. there's no amount of sleep that can fix it because this stupid brain remembers exactly where it left off. you recharge or feel good for a few minutes but then it just all slips away and you don't even know what happened. i can leave work in a great mood, plenty of energy, but in my 15 minute drive home i think about grocery shopping, football practice, scraping together dinner after football practice without causing bed time to be too late, a call from the school, the chore chart that the kid has been ignoring, oh shit, school pictures are this week, i shouldn't have splurged on the manicure when school pictures are happening, oh fuck, did we remember to take the redbox movies back? oh wait, we didn't get red box movies, that was a few weeks ago. OH FUCK- did we take the ones back from a few weeks ago? i shouldn't be watching movies anyway. i should be reading books or writing. but my writing is shit anyway, so why bother writing at all? damn it, it's monday, i have a therapy appointment this afternoon and just missed the exit. why the fuck can i never remember where i'm going or when i have to be there? what am i even going to talk about at therapy this week? why am i even going to therapy if i don't know what i'm going to talk about? i'm probably just going to end up crying again over nothing and go home with a headache. i mean YEAH, it helps. and she helps me figure out what i need to talk about, but it's really just wasting her time. i'm sure there's people that need the appointment more than me. but, it's not like i would be doing anything at home anyway. might as well go. the next episode of greys anatomy can wait. i've already seen them all anyway. since i don't have a life. not like i have any pressing social engagements on my calendar...EVER. how lame are you that you NEVER have anything on your calendar besides kids doctors appointments and sports events? maybe if you weren't such a socially maladjusted freak you'd be able to make and keep a friend and then you would have somewhere to go and your therapist wouldn't be the one stuck listening to you all the time. that's right. the only person that listens to you is one you have to PAY to do it. maybe i should talk about that this week...
and so by the time i pull into my garage, in just 15 minutes, my energy is gone, my mood is crap, i just want to go to bed and stay there forever and ignore everyone and everything, but there's really nothing and no one to ignore which is even MORE depressing.
and so i'm just here. in this limbo of i feel fine but i know things aren't exactly fine. and i just feel hollow and empty and alone. and some days it's overwhelming and profound. and other days i don't even notice it and i'm glad to be able to read for hours on end without a single interruption. and at some point it would be nice to try to make friends again. and at some point it would be nice to write without feeling wrong. and at some point it would be nice to have something to look forward to.
but i'll keep smiling. i'll keep going to work. i'll keep making polite talk at football practice. i'll keep grocery shopping and i'll keep making dinner. i'll keep going on. and maybe, eventually, it won't seem so empty any more. maybe, eventually it will be fun again and there will be things to do and people to do them with. but, for now, this is the way it is. it's not optimal, but it's ok. and that's ok.
Monday, October 19, 2015
well, fuck
*warning: medical junk to follow*
a while ago my right breast started itching. so i bought good old fashioned nursing cream and dismissed the issue (even though it didn't go away no matter how much cream i used).
last week while applying the cream i noticed that it seemed like i was lactating again. even through i haven't breast fed in twelve years. well. that's disconcerting.
around the same time i noticed my right breast. like. ALL THE TIME. spilling out of bras. hurting all the time. bumping against my arm whenever i moved. YUP. it's grown about a cup size in the last few weeks. GREAT.
so last friday i called in and made a doctors appointment for today. went in to the obgyn and she poked a bit and asked a few questions and sent me on my way to schedule a mammogram and some blood work.
i know the internet is a TERRIBLE place for medical stuff. knowing this, and having a LARGE grain of salt ready, i googled anyway. bad idea.
so. there's all that bullshit. whatever.
here's my response to all that bullshit:
YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT. why are you wasting your time and the doctors time and all the co-pay money? THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU. THERE NEVER IS. you have pain and you have issues and they go away if you ignore them long enough. i mean, look at your ankle. yeah, it hurt to walk on, and yeah, it was swollen and tender for 6 months, but now you barely notice it. and when you did go to the doctor they what, charged you $90 to tell you there was nothing wrong. SO WHY ARE YOU DOING IT AGAIN YOU FUCKING IDIOT? there's nothing wrong with you. so what if you boob hurts a little. and is lactating. and growing. GET OVER IT.
*but what if this time...*
ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED AND DEAF? THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU. cancel the other appointments. don't bother with the mammogram. don't bother with the blood work. pay me (which is myself, i get it) the $100 instead and follow one simple prescriptions: *headdesk* as needed until you quit acting like an idiot.
let's just stop and consider that for a minute. whether or not there's something wrong with me, my instinctual response to self sooth and reassure myself IS TO INSULT MYSELF. instead of being like, it's ok, that's why doctors exist, to check things. i'm like: DESTROY, MAIM, CAUSE MORE PAIN AND TERROR.
score.
thanks self.
then comes the real fun part: this voice is just rattling around my head with no out. i don't have family to talk it over with. i don't have a significant other to cry on when shit goes sideways. i don't have a christina or a meredith to call. i don't have a person. i'm a cold, uncommunicative, unwelcoming bitch who can't keep friends. i shut out people on good days and cut them from my life completely when things get hard. no big shocker there- look how friendly i am to myself; no one else would want to tolerate that. add in the fact that i am hyper aware of how many people other people have and how rude it is to intrude on their per-scheduled time and interactions. i'm not just going to call someone up out of the blue and dump a load of shit of them when they have a life and other things going on.
so then it just rattles around in my head, these negative, mean voices both simultaneously trying to convince me that i'm dying and that i'm an idiot for thinking i'm dying. so then i find myself at 3:40 on a monday afternoon barely keeping my shit together at work with a fucking INSANE migraine venting to a blog on the internet.
GOOD TIMES.
so. maybe there's something wrong with me. more likely there isn't. i mean physically.
obviously there's a fuck ton wrong with me mentally.
anyway. that's monday.
a while ago my right breast started itching. so i bought good old fashioned nursing cream and dismissed the issue (even though it didn't go away no matter how much cream i used).
last week while applying the cream i noticed that it seemed like i was lactating again. even through i haven't breast fed in twelve years. well. that's disconcerting.
around the same time i noticed my right breast. like. ALL THE TIME. spilling out of bras. hurting all the time. bumping against my arm whenever i moved. YUP. it's grown about a cup size in the last few weeks. GREAT.
so last friday i called in and made a doctors appointment for today. went in to the obgyn and she poked a bit and asked a few questions and sent me on my way to schedule a mammogram and some blood work.
i know the internet is a TERRIBLE place for medical stuff. knowing this, and having a LARGE grain of salt ready, i googled anyway. bad idea.
so. there's all that bullshit. whatever.
here's my response to all that bullshit:
YOU'RE A FUCKING IDIOT. why are you wasting your time and the doctors time and all the co-pay money? THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU. THERE NEVER IS. you have pain and you have issues and they go away if you ignore them long enough. i mean, look at your ankle. yeah, it hurt to walk on, and yeah, it was swollen and tender for 6 months, but now you barely notice it. and when you did go to the doctor they what, charged you $90 to tell you there was nothing wrong. SO WHY ARE YOU DOING IT AGAIN YOU FUCKING IDIOT? there's nothing wrong with you. so what if you boob hurts a little. and is lactating. and growing. GET OVER IT.
*but what if this time...*
ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED AND DEAF? THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH YOU. cancel the other appointments. don't bother with the mammogram. don't bother with the blood work. pay me (which is myself, i get it) the $100 instead and follow one simple prescriptions: *headdesk* as needed until you quit acting like an idiot.
let's just stop and consider that for a minute. whether or not there's something wrong with me, my instinctual response to self sooth and reassure myself IS TO INSULT MYSELF. instead of being like, it's ok, that's why doctors exist, to check things. i'm like: DESTROY, MAIM, CAUSE MORE PAIN AND TERROR.
score.
thanks self.
then comes the real fun part: this voice is just rattling around my head with no out. i don't have family to talk it over with. i don't have a significant other to cry on when shit goes sideways. i don't have a christina or a meredith to call. i don't have a person. i'm a cold, uncommunicative, unwelcoming bitch who can't keep friends. i shut out people on good days and cut them from my life completely when things get hard. no big shocker there- look how friendly i am to myself; no one else would want to tolerate that. add in the fact that i am hyper aware of how many people other people have and how rude it is to intrude on their per-scheduled time and interactions. i'm not just going to call someone up out of the blue and dump a load of shit of them when they have a life and other things going on.
so then it just rattles around in my head, these negative, mean voices both simultaneously trying to convince me that i'm dying and that i'm an idiot for thinking i'm dying. so then i find myself at 3:40 on a monday afternoon barely keeping my shit together at work with a fucking INSANE migraine venting to a blog on the internet.
GOOD TIMES.
so. maybe there's something wrong with me. more likely there isn't. i mean physically.
obviously there's a fuck ton wrong with me mentally.
anyway. that's monday.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Out of Doors
"...you're such a fucking pussy. you're too busy sucking your boyfriends dick to fight like a man."
is that sentence a bit shocking? it was to me, and i don't shock easily.
that sentences wasn't hurled at or by me. that sentence, in all it's ignorant, homophobic glory, was an insult hurled at my 12 year old son last night after he walked away from a group of kids that had surrounded him and sprayed him all over with silly string.
this all happened at a youth group meeting.
mere feet away from the "adults in charge" (most barely legal adults).
NO ONE DID A DAMN THING.
i got a call at work from a child in TEARS. he had left the church and walked home and called me.
this isn't the first time.
this isn't the second time.
this is TWO YEARS of bullying from the same kid.
i'm out of doors to knock on. i don't know what cage to rattle any more.
TWO YEARS of escalating bullying and not a damn thing has worked.
you may remember a rant a while ago about the school teaching my son "safe words" to use to get help when the bullying happened.
you may remember rants about me calling the school staff, the superintendent, the city police.
TWO YEARS. multiple school district complaint forms filed with the school superintendent. it spread from school to campus kids- a local college mentoring program my son participates in on thursdays on the college campus. it spread to the city park and involved SCRAPS (the local animal control) and a harassment report with the city police. it spread to a church youth group and ANOTHER harassment report with the city police.
my son doesn't want to go to school. i've told him to stay away from the park near our house. fortunately, the college mentor program realized what was happening and dis-invited the student doing the bullying so my son still has ONE safe place to go. but for fucks sake, even a church isn't sanctuary for him at this point.
the school principal is "working on it." the key phrase he kept saying this morning in his office as he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed.
i *just* found out there's a city police officer assigned to the school as a safety/resource officer. why wasn't i informed of that two years ago?
i've had to teach my son to just take it. all the insults, the pushing, losing friends, being the narc because he did the right thing and told me. remember "...snitches get stitches..." from last school year?
he can't fight back or he gets in trouble. he can't verbally defend himself or they consider that bullying as well.
so he just has to listen to it and tell me about it in tears later.
he has to listen to "you're such a fag," "go suck your boyfriends dick," "no wonder your dad left," and a myriad of other juvenile insults. i don't know if he's gay. he doesn't know if he's gay. we've talked about it. he's questioning.
IT DOESN'T MATTER.
the officer last night was the first one to get that. the first question from the reports has always been "...does the bullying bother him because he's gay?"
NO YOU FUCKING IMBECILES.
THE BULLYING BOTHERS HIM BECAUSE HE DOESN'T LIKE BEING BULLIED.
the officer last night was actually thrown off my me answering the question before he asked it.
me: "...and no, i don't know if he's gay or not. He's 12."
officer: "I wasn't going to even ask that. Why would that be an issue?"
me: "Well, it's the first thing everyone else has asked."
officer: "Doesn't matter if he is or isn't This shouldn't be happening."
FINALLY. someone gets it.
but now what? i have two case report numbers. i have multiple harassment complaints. i've talked to everyone i can think of. i've started down the path to see if there's any legal help i can get.
BUT MY KID IS STILL SCARED TO GO TO SCHOOL.
so what? what door do i knock on? what cage do i rattle? how can i get more than one police officer to take this serious?
i'm at a loss. i'm frustrated. i'm sad. i'm angry. i'm insulted. i'm so incredibly hurt for my kid. i'm having flash backs to when i was in school. i know EXACTLY what he's feeling. i know EXACTLY what it's like to be the target and have no one listen or help. i know what it's like to be standing right next to an adult and have them walk away when something happens.
I DON'T WANT THAT FOR MY KID.
i'm going to keep fighting. i don't know what i'm fighting for or against or which direction i'm pointed, but i'm not giving up.
is that sentence a bit shocking? it was to me, and i don't shock easily.
that sentences wasn't hurled at or by me. that sentence, in all it's ignorant, homophobic glory, was an insult hurled at my 12 year old son last night after he walked away from a group of kids that had surrounded him and sprayed him all over with silly string.
this all happened at a youth group meeting.
mere feet away from the "adults in charge" (most barely legal adults).
NO ONE DID A DAMN THING.
i got a call at work from a child in TEARS. he had left the church and walked home and called me.
this isn't the first time.
this isn't the second time.
this is TWO YEARS of bullying from the same kid.
i'm out of doors to knock on. i don't know what cage to rattle any more.
TWO YEARS of escalating bullying and not a damn thing has worked.
you may remember a rant a while ago about the school teaching my son "safe words" to use to get help when the bullying happened.
you may remember rants about me calling the school staff, the superintendent, the city police.
TWO YEARS. multiple school district complaint forms filed with the school superintendent. it spread from school to campus kids- a local college mentoring program my son participates in on thursdays on the college campus. it spread to the city park and involved SCRAPS (the local animal control) and a harassment report with the city police. it spread to a church youth group and ANOTHER harassment report with the city police.
my son doesn't want to go to school. i've told him to stay away from the park near our house. fortunately, the college mentor program realized what was happening and dis-invited the student doing the bullying so my son still has ONE safe place to go. but for fucks sake, even a church isn't sanctuary for him at this point.
the school principal is "working on it." the key phrase he kept saying this morning in his office as he leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed.
i *just* found out there's a city police officer assigned to the school as a safety/resource officer. why wasn't i informed of that two years ago?
i've had to teach my son to just take it. all the insults, the pushing, losing friends, being the narc because he did the right thing and told me. remember "...snitches get stitches..." from last school year?
he can't fight back or he gets in trouble. he can't verbally defend himself or they consider that bullying as well.
so he just has to listen to it and tell me about it in tears later.
he has to listen to "you're such a fag," "go suck your boyfriends dick," "no wonder your dad left," and a myriad of other juvenile insults. i don't know if he's gay. he doesn't know if he's gay. we've talked about it. he's questioning.
IT DOESN'T MATTER.
the officer last night was the first one to get that. the first question from the reports has always been "...does the bullying bother him because he's gay?"
NO YOU FUCKING IMBECILES.
THE BULLYING BOTHERS HIM BECAUSE HE DOESN'T LIKE BEING BULLIED.
the officer last night was actually thrown off my me answering the question before he asked it.
me: "...and no, i don't know if he's gay or not. He's 12."
officer: "I wasn't going to even ask that. Why would that be an issue?"
me: "Well, it's the first thing everyone else has asked."
officer: "Doesn't matter if he is or isn't This shouldn't be happening."
FINALLY. someone gets it.
but now what? i have two case report numbers. i have multiple harassment complaints. i've talked to everyone i can think of. i've started down the path to see if there's any legal help i can get.
BUT MY KID IS STILL SCARED TO GO TO SCHOOL.
so what? what door do i knock on? what cage do i rattle? how can i get more than one police officer to take this serious?
i'm at a loss. i'm frustrated. i'm sad. i'm angry. i'm insulted. i'm so incredibly hurt for my kid. i'm having flash backs to when i was in school. i know EXACTLY what he's feeling. i know EXACTLY what it's like to be the target and have no one listen or help. i know what it's like to be standing right next to an adult and have them walk away when something happens.
I DON'T WANT THAT FOR MY KID.
i'm going to keep fighting. i don't know what i'm fighting for or against or which direction i'm pointed, but i'm not giving up.
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