Archive for February, 2008

Oh the joys!

Today is just another Tuesday here.  We don’t really have anything going on and I’m glad for it.  I don’t know that I have the energy to be a go-getter today.  After P wakes up we do have to run to Walmart for a prescription and I definitely need to make a deposit at the bank and we probably should pay the mortgage while we’re at it.  Of course, I’m not even dressed yet.  I took C to school in my pajamas and L is still in hers as well.  Since he walks himself in I didn’t think I really needed to be dressed to impress.

On another note, I have my husband’s sinus infection.  I’ve managed to keep it at bay for almost two weeks and now finally it’s gotten me.  I feel like my head may very well explode and snot may spew for miles when it does.  I can’t believe that after two weeks I’m just now coming down with this.  I really, really do not need to be sick.  It’s hard enough some mornings to find the motivation to get them up and moving without having a sinus infection on top of it.

I’m still having it rough from not taking my meds over the weekend too.  I woke up with my “cranky pants” on as my husband would so endearingly put it.  I feel like just crawling back into bed and instead I’m dealing with L and her crabbiness over her new princess game.  I’m already sick of the princess game and really wish her aunt hadn’t decided to give her a late Christmas present; it really could have been saved for her birthday.  The kids already have things that are still in packages from Christmas because there was just too much and now we get yet another toy.  Well, not really a toy, one of those plug-n-play game console things.  It does provide some entertain value, but of course it also makes L a bit edgy since she can’t quite figure out how all the buttons work to switch games…leaving me to do it.  Oh well.

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Sedation

Kiss Me

I didn’t take my bipolar medication over the weekend. It wasn’t an intentional thing, I just didn’t take it. I never reached up into the cupboard and took it out. Out of sight, out of mind I guess. Needless to say, I didn’t have a very good Sunday; and today was rough. I went into severe depression mode yesterday, manic depression if you want to term it. Two days without medication and I was a complete wreck. I’m completely, 100% dependent on these medications and it frustrates me to no end.

I’ve always known that I have depression. I would freely admit that to anyone who asked. I’ve always known too that I suffer from severe anxiety. It’s part of the reason that I so enjoy spending time online; I don’t really have to “talk” to anyone. Talking is too intimate for me. Even with my own husband I get anxious about talking. Sometimes calling a friend is even too much.

So, four months into my medically induced “happiness” (which quite honestly it’s more like being sedated than anything) I finally realize that I’m never going to be able to stop taking medication. For as long as I am on this planet in my current form I will need medication just to help me cope with the day to day grind. Even things like getting up in the morning, or having to go to the grocery store will require me to be medicated. Having a relationship with my husband that is not stressed or angry will require medication. Being able to enjoy my children to the fullest extent will require medication. It bothers me to no end.

I don’t want to spend my life in this sedated sense, but quite honestly, I don’t want to spend it being depressed, angry and moody. Sure, I’d have my good days where I’d fly high like a kite, but I’ll pay for those good days in the form of very, very dark bad days. Days when I’m sure no one wants to be within 100 square miles of my person. Days when even I can’t stand the thought of being in my own head.

It’s disturbing to me that I’m this other person without medication. It’s disturbing to me that I’m a completely different person on medication. I know which is better, but at the same time I miss myself too. Four months ago I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know that people don’t constantly hash and rehash the same thoughts a million times before sinking into depression and not knowing which way to go because the ‘perfect’ idea had holes in it. I didn’t know it wasn’t normal to get a grand idea and then become depressed because the task was just too ‘difficult’ to handle. I didn’t realize that one could go to the grocery store alone without wondering what another person has just thought of what you were wearing, looking at, purchasing and on and on and on. I didn’t think I was all that different from other people, that was my normal. That was how I’d always had to deal with my world. Now, I have to wade through my world in a sedated reality.

And in this sedated reality emotion isn’t the same. It’s like seeing a vibrant picture without any color. I still have base emotions, but things like pure joy or raging madness escape me. Even if I know that I should be absolutely pissed off about something I can’t actually be it. And if I actually do get really mad about something, it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. I’m sure that doesn’t make much sense, it’s a hard concept for me to grasp even and I’m living it.

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Shoot Me Now!

I had no intention of double posting today, but you know, things happen.

I was served.  Again… By the same guy I think.

Now, why would little old me be served with court papers you might ask? The answer is surprisingly simple…my ex-husband is apparently one of the biggest, most incompetent people on the face of the planet without me to pay the bills. For the second time in ONE year he’s defaulted on the mortgage to the condo that we jointly own. Now, we wouldn’t still jointly own the darn thing, but he’s never gone and filed the paperwork necessary to remove my name from the mortgage and I no longer live in the state of Illinois where this whole process has to happen. This condo was supposed to be put on the market in 2005, another LONG story of incompetence if you want my opinion, but I digress…the mortgage is again in default.

So, the guy gives me my lovely stack of court documents and mortgage papers and asks for the ex’s address because even though it’s on the second page of this stack they for some reason like to serve him at my house. I suppose they figure they might find him here even though we’ve been divorced for almost 3 years. Anyway, I get my ex on the phone because I figure he should know immediately and share the joy with me; I also need his address so he himself can be served with these lovely documents.

He obliges with the address and wants to know what the documents say because according to him (which I tend to believe after the $10K he paid to get the mortgage out of default the first time) he’s paid the mortgage since the last incident. The last time the mortgage had been switched to a new bank and apparently the payments went somewhere and were applied to something, but never made it to the proper mortgage company. This time, the payments were made and to the right mortgage lender and they still haven’t gotten them.

To say that I’m pissed off livid ready to kill someone would be an understatement. I’m not on the actual mortgage note, but this still affects me and my credit. Since P and I would like to refinance the mortgage on this house (I’m not on the mortgage) it would be nice if I didn’t have a condo sitting in foreclosure…AGAIN!

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That’s Better!

Ah, I can read my blog again without squinting. Were you squinting? I thought perhaps it was just my computer, but I tried on P’s work laptop and it was still incredibly small print for my poor eyesight.

I have to admit that I’m a layout junkie. I could realistically change the look of my blog daily if I didn’t think people would find me a little quirky. My MySpace page changes almost constantly depending on my mood. I try something for a few days and then think, “Hmmmm, wonder if I could find something I like better?”, and usually I do find something I like a little more that day, so I switch. I would be a horrible candidate to have someone create a blog look for me because within a couple of weeks, I’d just need a new one anyway. Can you imagine how much money that would cost me every year? But today folks, it was merely my poor squinting eyes I had to accommodate, so a new layout it is.

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So, it’s Thursday. We don’t really have anything going on. Once P gets up I’m planning on getting in a shower and then Miss L and I need to run to the library before picking C up from school. We have more reading homework to do tonight; and if last night is any indication of how easily we can get that done we should have no problems this evening. It literally took C only 10 minutes to crank out two math sheets, do two of his site word lists and read his entire reading book. Yeah, my kid is a brainiac! (Which, of course, is a completely biased opinion given I’m his mommy!) Some of the speed may have been due to the fact that I told him he’d be inside for recess completing math homework if it wasn’t done last night, but since they’ll have indoor recess again today, that probably wasn’t such a great threat to use as motivation.

Speaking of motivation, I have none today. The playroom is a disaster and I need to work on it. It’s beyond the kid’s threshold for getting it done without help. In fact, it’s so messy even I don’t have the energy to do it all in one sweep through. The legos are the worst. I don’t know why they insist on dumping every single teeny tiny lego on the floor to find one little blue piece, but they do. I also have to get the dishes done, sweep downstairs, vacuum the stairway and hall, put away laundry and dust. Really wishing it could all just wait a few days, but then I’ll really be bogged down, so today it is.

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9 More Minutes Please!

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I woke this morning to the alarm clock ringing annoyingly. I promptly turned it off and snuggled back down into my blankets for what I thought would be another 9 minutes of quiet rest. Wrong…

About three minutes later (I’m falling into a light sleep) I hear C crying out and the word blood. Okay, blood is not the first word you want to wake up to in the morning and I have a slight issue with blood in that it does have the ability to make me pass out or throw up. This is why I’m a mom and not a nurse; I don’t do blood!

I jump out of bed and rush out into the hallway. My daughter practically shouts out that, “C has blood in his nose!” and I see him climbing out of the bunk, his hand trying to cover his bloody nose, and crying. Shit. I usher him to the bathroom and try to find a washcloth I don’t mind ruining in the closet. In the meantime, he’s dripping blood everywhere, crying and freaked out. L is still giving me a play-by-play at the top of her lungs. (Should I mention now that husband is a second shifter, so he went to bed at 2AM and he does NOT sleep through kid stuff very well?) Washcloth in hand I finally get it wet and manage to swipe at the blood covering C’s lips and chin before thrusting a clean part under his nose to catch any further spillage. It’s a bad bloody nose and so I grab a second washcloth to get wet and switch. Wipe the floor in the bathroom with the first one and rinse it out. C is still crying, L is still talking as loudly as possible to attract some attention and I can just imagine the look on husband’s face as he lays in bed listening to the ruckus going on (completely annoyed, sleepy eyed with a little bit of eye roll thrown in for good measure–why did he marry someone with kids???). C’s bleeding tapers off within minutes and I start to usher the kids downstairs for final clean-up. C’s clothes, arms and face are covered in blood, L is still attempting to wake half a city block and as we get into the kitchen I hear husband slamming bathroom door.

Yeah, we’re having fun now.

The rest of the morning wasn’t much better. I was completely off and didn’t get a shower, almost forgot to make C’s lunch and C’s pajama shirt and pants are pretty much ruined. And then I had the pleasure of taking a hospital tour with 10 running screaming excitable four year olds. (The only good thing to come of that was the 2 day old infant we got to oogle while we were there…he was such a sweetie!)

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