Posts Tagged With: frustration

people are dumb panicky animals

I can say this stuff to Sundance. She knows me well enough that the meaning is understood in concept without concerning herself with the actuality of it.
Am I a misanthrope?
Not really. I just can’t stand being around ignorant people out in public.


When the squinty eyes come out, you know there’s bound to be trouble.

You ever have days like this?
Days when you just know that if it was up to you, the world wouldn’t be full of

I don’t know what gets me rattled, I should probably just ignore more of what goes on around me. Only I can’t seem to do that. I hold others to the expectations to which I hold myself. How to properly behave in public is something I feel like should be a no-brainer.
I mean, it’s pretty simple, right?
Just don’t act like a dick.

I know my mom was a hard ass, a no-nonsense kind of dictator parent. But she taught me the importance of how to behave around other people.
Sure, I’m a sarcastic bitch. But I don’t act a fool.
Some of these people out in the world need to tighten it the f**k up.
Ugh!

I feel like I’m forever making this face.
The things they say. The physical space they take up. The absolute lack of awareness of the world around them. These rampant packs of fools milling about.
I’m going to need for y’all to get it together already!

Do I simply need more patience?
That wouldn’t be a bad thing…
If folks would get their shit straight out in public, I would attempt a bit more patience. It’s a two-way street, people. I’m just sayin’.

Over all, I believe Kay had it right.

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Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

accepting the new way of being

I’ve been home since September. With the exception of the wedding and Christmas, I haven’t really ‘done’ that much. I have these moments of inspiration. To paint the kitchen cabinets. To paint the bedroom. To rearrange the way we store things.
These moments of inspiration make me feel enthusiastic and purposeful!
I quite like it.
The moment I prep myself to consider tackling one of these projects I’m hit with the full realization that my brain is fighting against the rest of my body. I have the energy and the desire to step up. But every time I swing the bat, BAM! I’m hit full force with the pain I so successfully ignore while executing simple daily tasks.

I felt like I’d be at home and rest and heal and still get things done.
I’m considering forcing myself to begin a project. I’m excellent at finishing what I start. So by forcing myself to begin a project I know I’ll have to finish it. But, how will that impact the way I feel? What will that do to the healing process?
Let’s get real. I don’t really think I’m healing. I think this is just how it is. I’ve lived with pain before. I can do it again.
I’m sick and tired of waiting. Putting everything aside until I feel well.
I might not ever feel well again. Acceptance is key.
I accept that I might not “get better”. But I’m tired of putting my life on hold because of it. I’m just going to suck it up and do the things I choose to accomplish.
I will simply learn to function in this new way of being.

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

why am I always surprised?

I’m always surprised. You’d think after 26 years I would have figured it out…but no, every single time, I’m surprised.

My former husband called me Friday and said: happy Easter. (Aww, that was kind…did I mention I should have known better than to think is was sincere?)
After a brief timeĀ of catching up, he asks if I know what Thing 1 did.
Uh…no.
Well it seems she went to the emergency room and the bill showed up at his house as that’s the one listed on her driver’s license. So he wants to know what I’m going to do about the bill.
Pardon?

I suggest we have a mini discussion about it with Thing 1, see if we can come up with a plan all together. (I mean if she’s off shacked up with this guy, why are we still financially responsible for her?)

Then he begins to talk about Thing 2 and how bad her anxiety has become.
I suggest he take her to the doctor. He has no idea what that means…no idea where to start. I suggest he take her to the family practitioner and go from there…and when he hems and haws I remind him that he’s the parent and he has to be responsible for her. Which kind of turns into a bigger discussion than he’s interested in so he hustles off the phone but not before he says he’ll call me back. (He doesn’t.)

Saturday morning I get a call from Thing 1, guns a’ blazing. She’s all bent because, “Daddy told me you said send the bill to me. How am I supposed to pay it?”
Whoa there sister.
I do a little damage control and move on.

I call her father (who conveniently doesn’t answer) and leave a message.
When he finally calls me back, I’m like, what’s your deal?
He says: Well I was mad at you so I called Thing 1. (You stupid, passive aggressive, manipulative jackass!)
I stop him right there and say, “You have got to get it together! Be a grown up, be a man! If you are angry with me, you talk to ME! Not our children! You’re up my ass about money but can’t be bothered to discuss what’s going on with Thing 2. You’ve made a huge mess down there and you are going to have to clean it up.”
He is quiet, then he makes excuses, then he apologizes. (The apology is meaningless, he just says it out of habit, to end the conversation.)

I honestly don’t understand. Any of it really. Starting with the fact I thought he was a grown up all those long years ago and ending with how I continue to ask myself, why did I choose to remain blind for so long?

I made a promise to remain hands off in the fall when he and Thing 2 decided she didn’t need a mommy in her life.
I made that promise to myself. I vowed not to clean up whatever mess they made. It has made for some harrowing moments for me…but I am sticking to it.
The problem is they’ve made a bigger mess than I could have ever imagined. Thing 2 will suffer for it, but she is choosing to…
He has no idea how to be a parent other than to provide food and shelter…that’s all he’s ever done.
The thing that frustrates me the most is the fact he won’t admit he’s cocked it up. He would rather let it all burn than admit he’s made a mess and try and figure out how to clean it up…or ask for help cleaning it up.

He called me under the guise of happy Easter, my beloved Easter. And I was surprised when it went down the rabbit hole. (Shame on me.)
When will I stop being surprised? Why do I continue to give the benefit of the doubt?

I am so much better off away from that toxicity.
I’ve thrown my baby a life raft, she’s choosing not to take it.
It’s time to sink or swim.
My friend and mentor has told me I built herĀ foundation and she’ll be successful in spite of all this…I trust that.

I’m so disappointed in myself for believing so long that he is something he’s not…I believed the facade I helped create.

Categories: divorce, me, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

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