Tuesday, September 13, 2005
I knew I was headed for a crash... well, I hoped I wasn't. I thought I had it under control; I thought I was getting better. But as is common with mental health issues, recognizing progress is usually a cue for a huge setback. I've really been struggling for a couple of weeks now with a quiet sense of hopelessness. You know, everything is falling apart, I can't keep it together, nothing is working the way it should, I'm failing and there's no way to recover. But I knew it was just a phase, and given that this is my 3rd month of unemployment, it's really predictable, too. But I guess I had hopes of getting through it without taking it out on everyone around me. All it took was one bad day for me to just snap.
The kids acted up and snuck around behind my back and lied to me to try to hide it. Typical kid stuff, but it was the last straw. I had to keep DD home from the class skate night. She was heartbroken. Her half hour of wailing pushed me even further over the edge. When she recovered, she proceeded to the suck-up portion of the evening, where she did the dishes and drew me pictures in hopes of "winning back" her priveledge. DS was on his own "ignore Mom and then give her kisses when she gets pissed" tear, so I have put them both on house arrest. They get nothing for two days--no computer, no video games, no legos, no staying up late, etc. And they get a new day every time they ignore me or break a house rule. I have a feeling it'll be a month before they're anywhere close to "normal" again. And all this had me feeling good and really, really horrible. Good because I recognize that this indulgent behavior is my own fault and I'm ready to buckle down to really teach them an important lesson. And horrible because well, it's my fault, and I've aparently been really lazy and indulgent myself, and not thinking of the bigger picture. Lazy. I spoiled them and it's MY fault. I am failing as their mother.
Then Rusty comes home in a firey rage over car/parking issues. Great. Now granted, I'd be irritated, too, and I don't blame him for being angry. And clearly, I'm no saint when it comes to losing my temper or losing control of negative emotions. But the timing couldn't have been worse. He scared the kids because they'd never seen him get angry before, and they didn't understand the issue that made him angry. And we were already really pissed off at each other, so adding a fourth angry person to the household was really exactly what I didn't need. I had hoped his arrival would signal that the calvary was coming, but instead, it was just more anger blowing through the door. Luckily he cooled rather quickly and was back on an even keel in a matter of minutes.
But that little rubber band in my head that was holding me together was already tightened beyond it's limits. Rather than explode all over everyone (which is what Shitfoot used to do), I just collapsed in on myself. Shut down. Couldn't cry. Couldn't talk. Couldn't do much of anything. I sat on the couch and tried to knit (have I mentioned that I'm teaching myself to knit?). I tried to focus on the project and clear my head. Just tune everything else out for a while and recenter myself. But Rusty needed me to "be normal" again. He begged and prodded me to open up. I tried to explain that I needed to clear my head, that I wouldn't know where to begin. I just wasn't ready to "talk it out", because it really had nothing to do with him anyway. You know, when you spend 3 months feeling like a loser who can't get anything together, telling the only person in the world who thinks highly of you all about how stupid and clumsy you are isn't really the first thing your to-do list. I am a single mom--my fault. I moved my kids here for what seemed like a dream job--my fault. Lost the job--shoulda seen it coming, shoulda had a backup plan, so that's my fault, too. Can't find another job. Not here, not anywhere in a 75 mile radius. My fault. Money is getting tight around here. We're looking at more and more spending we can cut just so we can keep paying the bills. Rusty's even talking about getting rid of his car for something cheaper. MY fault. And I realize that I have to resign myself to the fact that I spent 2 years in culinary school, took out massive loans to do it (because I was too stupid to figure out what I wanted the first time around and got a useless BA in THEATER of all things), and if I want to avoid another bankruptcy and welfare, I'm going to end up working retail or in a factory around here somewhere.
And then it gets even worse from there--am I conflicted about this because deep down, I really am an elitist bitch who thinks she's too good to work a cash register or fold boxes for a living? Do I think people who do that are bad somehow? Did I really expect to have some sort of high-profile, high-paying job by now? Do I need money to be happy? Do I look down on Rusty for not having a college degree and a white-collar job? Do I secretly expect him to support me and my kids while I languish like some sort of disenfranchised princess? What is it that would be so horribly disappointing if I have to get a job at Bed Bath and Beyond? Why does that hammer my pride so much??
So I have to take this step--I have to either give myself over to it and get the "bad job" (ha! That's assuming that anyone would actually even call me in for an interview given the scarcity of that sort of experience on my resume), or I can kid myself and keep hoping "something" is going to come along out of the blue and rescue me from all of this. I've always been a "bootstraps" kind of person, and I know what I have to do. I just really, really, really, really, really don't want to do it. And I think I'm an awful person on an infinite number of levels because of it--a better person would simply do what she needs to do. Instead, I worry that I'll find myself still selling towels and juicers 2 years from now, and hating myself and everyone around me because I failed completely to "make anything of myself". It sucks. I suck. And I'm really pissed off about it. And I really really REALLY don't want to talk about it, either, because it makes me think about all the ways I'm failing and all the ways I can feel bad about myself and I just want to forget it and move on to that mundane and useless life that seems to be laid out for me.
The kids acted up and snuck around behind my back and lied to me to try to hide it. Typical kid stuff, but it was the last straw. I had to keep DD home from the class skate night. She was heartbroken. Her half hour of wailing pushed me even further over the edge. When she recovered, she proceeded to the suck-up portion of the evening, where she did the dishes and drew me pictures in hopes of "winning back" her priveledge. DS was on his own "ignore Mom and then give her kisses when she gets pissed" tear, so I have put them both on house arrest. They get nothing for two days--no computer, no video games, no legos, no staying up late, etc. And they get a new day every time they ignore me or break a house rule. I have a feeling it'll be a month before they're anywhere close to "normal" again. And all this had me feeling good and really, really horrible. Good because I recognize that this indulgent behavior is my own fault and I'm ready to buckle down to really teach them an important lesson. And horrible because well, it's my fault, and I've aparently been really lazy and indulgent myself, and not thinking of the bigger picture. Lazy. I spoiled them and it's MY fault. I am failing as their mother.
Then Rusty comes home in a firey rage over car/parking issues. Great. Now granted, I'd be irritated, too, and I don't blame him for being angry. And clearly, I'm no saint when it comes to losing my temper or losing control of negative emotions. But the timing couldn't have been worse. He scared the kids because they'd never seen him get angry before, and they didn't understand the issue that made him angry. And we were already really pissed off at each other, so adding a fourth angry person to the household was really exactly what I didn't need. I had hoped his arrival would signal that the calvary was coming, but instead, it was just more anger blowing through the door. Luckily he cooled rather quickly and was back on an even keel in a matter of minutes.
But that little rubber band in my head that was holding me together was already tightened beyond it's limits. Rather than explode all over everyone (which is what Shitfoot used to do), I just collapsed in on myself. Shut down. Couldn't cry. Couldn't talk. Couldn't do much of anything. I sat on the couch and tried to knit (have I mentioned that I'm teaching myself to knit?). I tried to focus on the project and clear my head. Just tune everything else out for a while and recenter myself. But Rusty needed me to "be normal" again. He begged and prodded me to open up. I tried to explain that I needed to clear my head, that I wouldn't know where to begin. I just wasn't ready to "talk it out", because it really had nothing to do with him anyway. You know, when you spend 3 months feeling like a loser who can't get anything together, telling the only person in the world who thinks highly of you all about how stupid and clumsy you are isn't really the first thing your to-do list. I am a single mom--my fault. I moved my kids here for what seemed like a dream job--my fault. Lost the job--shoulda seen it coming, shoulda had a backup plan, so that's my fault, too. Can't find another job. Not here, not anywhere in a 75 mile radius. My fault. Money is getting tight around here. We're looking at more and more spending we can cut just so we can keep paying the bills. Rusty's even talking about getting rid of his car for something cheaper. MY fault. And I realize that I have to resign myself to the fact that I spent 2 years in culinary school, took out massive loans to do it (because I was too stupid to figure out what I wanted the first time around and got a useless BA in THEATER of all things), and if I want to avoid another bankruptcy and welfare, I'm going to end up working retail or in a factory around here somewhere.
And then it gets even worse from there--am I conflicted about this because deep down, I really am an elitist bitch who thinks she's too good to work a cash register or fold boxes for a living? Do I think people who do that are bad somehow? Did I really expect to have some sort of high-profile, high-paying job by now? Do I need money to be happy? Do I look down on Rusty for not having a college degree and a white-collar job? Do I secretly expect him to support me and my kids while I languish like some sort of disenfranchised princess? What is it that would be so horribly disappointing if I have to get a job at Bed Bath and Beyond? Why does that hammer my pride so much??
So I have to take this step--I have to either give myself over to it and get the "bad job" (ha! That's assuming that anyone would actually even call me in for an interview given the scarcity of that sort of experience on my resume), or I can kid myself and keep hoping "something" is going to come along out of the blue and rescue me from all of this. I've always been a "bootstraps" kind of person, and I know what I have to do. I just really, really, really, really, really don't want to do it. And I think I'm an awful person on an infinite number of levels because of it--a better person would simply do what she needs to do. Instead, I worry that I'll find myself still selling towels and juicers 2 years from now, and hating myself and everyone around me because I failed completely to "make anything of myself". It sucks. I suck. And I'm really pissed off about it. And I really really REALLY don't want to talk about it, either, because it makes me think about all the ways I'm failing and all the ways I can feel bad about myself and I just want to forget it and move on to that mundane and useless life that seems to be laid out for me.
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