Growing into Me with Bipolar

Posts tagged ‘Silence’

Bad Time of Year?

Just seem to be noticing that lots of us in blog land are feeling more scrambled and out of control than normal.  maybe its the coming of the fall, maybe the days starting to get shorter.  i don’t really know.  but i hope all of us start to get back to our normal level of discomfort really soon.  this is tiring and wearing and i am about done.

all because i felt some real or imagined pressure from some rather real doc to change my mood stabilizer.  anyway altho i resisted i gave in eventually feeling that i was acting like a child with a tantrum by not even considering other options that who knows might work just as well.  well, i was wrong.  i should have stuck to my guns.  i feel like crap, im not thinking worth a shit and im swinging on that old pendulum rapid, slow, erattically and not even in a straight line back and forth!  i’m swing forward and backward and sideways too.  and i just don’t know what to do until they get my power in my brain turned back on so its functioning right and those damn zig zag lightning bolts and yells and screams and tears and pictures of everything flashing in my eyes goes away and ‘normal’ returns once again.

normal, which isn’t even normal.  which is still somehow outside the pale of where most people live, normal for me for bipolar everywhere, where normal is no more electric bolts in your brain, no more images flashes thoughts screaming and racing around.  but no more feeling either, every inside passion, every fire, tamped down.  don’t want this, this crazy in my head, but don’t feel alive when i’m well.

they talk, they all talk about recovery but there is really no such thing.  for normal is never normal,  it’s just less insane.  its never ok, it’s never gone.  it’s just not as bad as what might be.  it’s flat, it’s plain, it’s black and white, maybe a few shades of gray.  but it is not normal.  it just looks like normal and it’s the best we got, so we better take it, baby, while it’s hot.


“Mercedes Benz” by janis joplin

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends.
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?
Dialing For Dollars is trying to find me.
I wait for delivery each day until three,
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a color TV ?

Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?
I’m counting on you, Lord, please don’t let me down.
Prove that you love me and buy the next round,
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a night on the town ?
images (1)
Oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?
My friends all drive Porsches, I must make amends,
Worked hard all my lifetime, no help from my friends,
So oh Lord, won’t you buy me a Mercedes Benz ?

That’s it!

“Me & Bobby McGee” by janis joplin

Busted flat in Baton Rouge, waiting for a train
And I’s feeling nearly as faded as my jeans.
Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained,
It rode us all the way to New Orleans.I pulled my harp from and my dirty red bandanna,
I was playing soft while Bobby sang the blues.
Windshield wipers slapping time, I was holding Bobby’s hand in mine,
We sang every song that driver knew.

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing don’t mean nothing honey if it ain’t free, now now.
And feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
You know feeling good was good enough for me,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.
From the Kentucky coal mines to the California sun,
Hey, Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
Through all kinds of weather, through everything that we done,
Hey Bobby baby kept me from the cold.

One day up near Salinas, Lord, I let him slip away,
He’s looking for that home and I hope he finds it,
But I’d trade all of my tomorrows for one single yesterday
To be holding Bobby’s body next to mine.

Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose,
Nothing, that’s all that Bobby left me, yeah,
But feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues,
Hey, feeling good was good enough for me, hmm hmm,
Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee.

La la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la la
La la la la la Bobby McGee.
La la la la la, la la la la la
La la la la la, Bobby McGee, la.

La La la, la la la la la la,
La La la la la la la la la, hey now Bobby now Bobby McGee yeah.
Na na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na na na na na
Hey now Bobby now, Bobby McGee, yeah.

Lord, I’m calling my lover, calling my man,
I said I’m calling my lover just the best I can,
C’mon, where is Bobby now, where is Bobby McGee, yeah,
Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lord
Hey, hey, hey, Bobby McGee, Lord!

Yeah! Whew!

Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lordy Lord
Hey, hey, hey, Bobby McGee.

“What Good Can Drinkin’ Do”by janis joplin

What good can drinkin’ do, what good can drinkin’ do?
Lord, I drink all night but the next day I still feel blue

There’s a glass on the table, they say it’s gonna ease all my pain,
And there’s a glass on the table, they say it’s gonna ease all my pain
But I drink it down, an’ the next day I feel the same

Gimme whiskey, gimme bourbon, give me gin
Oh, gimme whiskey, give me bourbon, gimme gin
‘Cause it don’t matter what I’m drinkin’, Lord, as long as it drown this sorrow I’m in
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I start drinking Friday, I start drinking Friday night
Lord, I start drinking Friday, start drinking Friday night
But then I wake up on Sunday, child, there ain’t nothin’ that’s right

My man he left me, child, he left me here
Yeah, my good man left me, went away and left me here
Lord, I’m feelin’ lowdown, just give me another glass of beer

What good can drinkin’ do, what good can drinkin’ do?
Well, I drink all night but the next day I still feel blue!

you can substitute any other part of your life, other than a man, and her songs still ring just as true, still hit those same notes of struggle and pain and the desperate hope for something better, for some bit of happiness.



Maybe I’m not really sick anymore.  Maybe I just learned it’s easier to say I am.

Maybe if I just tried again, got up on that horse again, I could be someone.

Maybe I was never sick to begin with, just sick of life.

Maybe I’m really better now, Maybe things are better now,

But I won’t give them or me a chance to grow, a chance to bloom, to afraid to fail



What will happen if I open the door, Open the door to life again?

What will happen if I step outside, step outside of my safe place again?

Step outside into the real world again, with expectations, obligations, and responsibilities?

Where I have to perform like the elephants at the zoo and the monkeys at the circus?


What if I make mistakes, What if I can’t perform anymore?

What if I can’t make the grade, fail to beat the score, can’t move fast enough anymore

Can’t keep up with the pace, find myself again failing the race.

Lose my place, keep trying anew, finding I can’t make a fit anywhere.


Things going wrong, haywire again, find myself stuck back inside

Unable to venture out, unable to win, the bar too high that was once so near.

Finding I’m back at the bottom, but this time there is no net

No one believes I can’t make it yet.  They say I’ve had time enough

To get back into that groove, can’t keep quitting when it gets too tough.


No more support, no more kindness, no more safety net to catch me now.

End up back in my head, can’t get out ever again

Can’t leave my shelter, my safe space, I know now

No one will believe me if I try again and fail.


They will say she is just not ill, She is just too lazy

To do her share.  She is selfish, expects the world to

Work for her and us to tell her so.  She wants to wallow

In her despair, Brought on by her own failures.


The system will say she had her chance, that if she had been telling the truth

She never would have tried again.  She just could have stayed inside, no one

Ever questioning the tide.


But maybe I was wrong, all those years ago…

Maybe I wasn’t really sick, just swallowed up in my own sadness,

In my inability to change my life.  Maybe I just gave up, gave in,

To my inner world that said I’d never win.


Maybe I should have kept trying, and I would not be so stuck today

On whether I deserve a second chance at life, or whether I should stay.

Inside.  Safe.


So I’ll never know if I could have won, Never know if I could do it again.

The risk is just too high, can’t be a failure all over again.

Once is enough, and done is done.

Metabolic Weight Loss, Instability, Regrets and the General Pointlessness of Things

So, I am partway way through my 3rd week of 4 of Metabolic Weight Loss nutrition and exercise program.  Have I lost any weight?  No, I had lost 1 lb, but then I switched from Lithium to Depakote, whose side effect turns out to be salt and water retention!  No kidding!  I jumped out of the frying pan  (lithium) just so that I could jump into the fire ( depakote).  Stopping the lithium was supposed to stop the ‘voltage dependent drug-induced R(enal) T(ubular) A(cidosis)’ that was characterized by my body thinking lithium was Salt, and wasting the real Salt instead, leaving way too much Potassium in the body that can’t bind with lithium like it is supposed to do with real salt.  So, my nephrologist was in agreement with me that since the lithium was so effective in stabilizing me, then we should stay on it as long as possible.  However, my psychiatrist felt that it was imprudent to do that, and really pushed and pushed for me to change off the lithium to anything else.  So, after like 6 months, I finally gave in to her and agreed to switch to depokate.

Well, we expected the hyperkalemia (excess potassium) to resolve, since my body would not be wasting its own real salt anymore since there would be no lithium to trick it.  So, all my symptoms were supposed to recede and be ‘normal’ again.  But what ended up happening is that my feet just grow bigger and fatter and more and more painful all the way up to just under my knees.  I look like I’m walking on big giant stubs.    Sleeping or putting them up does little to nothing to help them go down.  I had to fight with my psychiatrist and my nephrologist just to get an earlier appointment to see my nephrologist sooner.  Then my Case Manager at my mental health clinic insisted I acknowledge how she had made it all come together so I could see my nephro sooner, because she talked my psychiatrist into talking to my nephro about the swelling issues.  Except, I saw my nephro yesterday, and he had never heard of either my case manager or my psychiatrist or my clinic and the only reason I got in to see him earlier was because he heard my messages and was concerned about what I described going on.  So, my new case manager is not just trying to grub for acknowledgement and validation from me, her client, but she also lies about what she does ( and probably about what she doesn’t do, too).  Neither she nor my psychiatrist had anything to do with me getting my nephro to see me sooner.  It was ALL me!  That means, I am really failing to be getting the help and support of my psych team and they are not doing any of the communication between providers that they are supposed to do and the follow up too.  That means I am doing all the coordination and pushing and organizing all on my own.  So what good is it to be determined as SMI (Seriously Mentally Ill) and then being told to go to ma particular clinic for all your cares so that everything will be coordinated and followed up on so you, as a SMI person, will not have to fight the system with each interaction or symptom or whatever.  So that you, the disabled person, will supposedly be getting help to do and stay on top of all these things and not have to get stressed out and can concentrate on getting better, more stable, more ready to return to work or volunteering, etc.  But they don’t.  They just keep pretending and taking all the credit and leave you to fight all the battles on your own just like as if you had no SMI designation or had no Disabled designation, or were a regular working person contributing to the community with little more than small issues to be dealt with, not the large ones of Bipolar, Schizophrenia, etc.  But now that I am recognized as disabled and SMI, I have no choice to what services I can receive.  I am forced to go to 1 out of 1 clinic, and I am forced to work with the ‘team’ I am assigned (Psychiatrist, Nurse, Case Manager, and, on some teams, you even have to accept the primary care doc that is on your team–you can’t even go out into the community to choose your regular doc!  Every doc you see must be in the clinic is where they are going with this.  They even have a pharmacy you must use in the clinic as well).  And now, I have no choice over any healthcare providers at all.  I am lucky they have not yet put me on a team with a primary care doc, or a nephro specialist.

So, anyway, back to the original point.  I finally got thru to my nephro that I needed him to see me, and he did.  He is such a great and awesome doc–my best doc by far.  Wish he could be my doc for everything!  So, he is concerned that my body is not recovering like it should be.  Now that the fake salt, lithium, is out of my system, I should hold a normal amount of salt in my system to bind with the potassium.  They should both be at about the same ratio.  I should not have to worry about the hyperkalemia anymore, nor should I have to worry about hypernatremia.  But, I am definitely having hypernatremia issues—that is, way way too much salt leading to this huge swelling.  This should not be happening, except there is a rare possibility that I am having a a rare side effect of the new med, the depakote. Once in a great while, some people get the side effect of intense swelling and salt retention.  Hah!  I let them talk me out of taking a med that we had gotten well controlled that worked wonders for my stability, just so I could avoid the future potential pitfalls of that med on my kidneys, and now I’m on a new med, which is not causing me heart and liver issues by retaining salt and water!   And now, this is not well controlled the way the lithium and its side effects were.  And the depakote is not stabilizing me as well as the lithium was either.

So, back to the original point.  How am I expected to stay and maintain a healthy weight, a healthy body, and a healthy attidude and move forward in my mental health recovery when this is what I’m dealing with?  I can’t lose weight cause all the mood stabilizers have that as an effect.  Most of them also have really bad effects on me like the lithium leading to the kidney problem and the depakote leading to the heart problem.  And if I’m forced to keep gaining weight, and I am having difficulties with all the related side effects, then how would I be able to lose weight, even with the metabolic stuff?  And if I can’t stay sane and lose weight and deal with the heart and or kidney or whatever other issues would happen….then how am I supposed to stay positive enough to move forward and become a productive citizen again?  Is it the illness, the side effects, the meds, or the complications…that keep me disabled?  That keep me from being a useful human being again?  And damn it, I am tired of suffering and tired of my life never being able to move ahead.  Tired of being unable to do things.  Tired, so tired.  Something has got to give.  No matter what I do to get better, something else is sacrificed to make it happen.  So there is always something never getting better.

And I am not the mother I thought I could be, and I am barely holding on to life for my kids.  No, really, I mean if my ex misses one support payment because he changes jobs, or something else, we could end up on the street.  And I am certainly not capable of raising a family like that for the next 2 years.  I couldn’t even take care of me in that state for a month.  I live in fear of this every month.  I just found out my ex is moving to California from Az, where we all currently have been.  But his agency can’t find him computer programming work in Az, so they found him a spot in a place in Cali.  But he’s not happy with it, it won’t meet the cost of living changes.  And he’ll be looking for a new job once he’s there.  When he switches jobs, a new court order must be petitioned by me, then the court takes several months from time of filing to rule on it, then the court orders the employer to hold the money and pay it to the state the custodial parent is in.  Then the state processes the funds and distributes them to me.  So, if he even misses one normal payment of the 2x/mo….we are evicted.  We lose our car insurance and can’t drive.  Our house of cards falls apart.

So, I think I have made mistake after mistake, leading to a tenuous existence from which my grip will surely slide sooner or later.  I should never have quit working.  I should never have stopped the lithium.  I should never have gone down this path.  Where to go now, to start over or push on, I don’t know.

On Being the ‘Nice Sheep’ from now on

All my life I have been fighting the world to get what I thought I needed.  Nothing has ever come easy.  Since 1999 I have been fighting the mental healthcare establishment to get the ‘right’ treatment, to get what I believed I needed at the time, to get the best meds or the best treatment or the best therapy.  And over all those years, I was finally feeling I had won, that I had finally gotten everything I needed.

But then, the way my state handles Medicare mental health provision just changed, and I will very possibly be losing my Primary Care doc, as well as my specialists and forced to start over with unknowns yet again.  In addition to this (as if that wasn’t stressful enough) I am being pressured to change my psych meds, the same meds that got me to this point of actually starting to make progress on my issues and change my behaviors.  Before these meds, back in 2008, I had over 2 dozen serious attempts.  I can’t imagine changing these meds, for the risk of going back to the place where all I wished for with every waking breath was that my next breath would be my last.  I can’t even conceive of changing these meds and taking the chance of re-entering that hell.  I don’t even care what physical issues I develop by staying on these meds.  I don’t care if my kidney problems develop into full kidney failure, or if my potassium goes so high that I might have an asymptomatic massive heart attack and die, or that my EKG will change even more and maybe cause fainting or sudden death.  I don’t care if I am risking these things.  I want to be in my right mind, clear headed, coherent, and stable emotionally.  I don’t want to live with no physical illness or symptoms for forever if it means there is even a possibility that I will not be in my right mind, that I will be confused, disjointed, slow, fuzzy.  What is the point in living forever if you don’t have your mind?  Can’t they understand that I will risk all those dangers caused by the meds if it means I will keep my senses, even if my life is foreshortened?

I think I am tired of fighting all this time.  I think I will at long last yield and drop my gauntlet.  I will become the sheep that all mental health providers dream of making each client into.  The sheep who has no complaints about meds, services, therapies or providers.  The sheep who says and does exactly what is suggested by the provider.  Change meds?  You bet.  Baa.  Change providers?  Sure.  Baa.  Jump off a bridge?  Absolutely!  BAAA!  No longer have any ideas of what is wrong or what I need or what would be best?  Guaranteed.  BAAA!  From now on, I will a passive, calm, agreeable sheep and do what I’m told.

I Thought I Made a Friend

but I was wrong.  My daughter’s best friend and SO, K, has a really great mom.  Turns out she and I have lots in common, including mental health diagnoses.  Our kids are also a lot a like.  This felt so right when I got to know J.  But now I found out from my daughter, that J only tolerates me, that she finds me too ‘chatty’.  That when one of her cats died recently, she thought of calling me for support but decided against it because I talk too much and she didn’t want that.  sad pony

Well, if you can’t make a friend who shares 3 mental health diagnoses, who shares being a single mom to a kid who is also dealing with mood disorders, whose kids go to the same school, who basically is so similar to yourself, then who can you make friends with?  I’ve always been called a chatter box by my parents when I was young, by teachers in high school and middle school and grade school.  But I have to feel really comfortable and really trust the person I’m talking to to be able to ‘chatter’ like that.  In college, I went weeks without saying a word.  For 6 years I have not had any friend at all, and could only talk to my kids.

Any way, if you can’t make friends with someone so similar to you, who CAN you make friends with?  I guess I should just learn to be silent even with people I am comfortable with, and then maybe I could make a friend.  But what’s a friend for, if you can’t talk?  So, I guess, I continue on alone.

My Son Has a God Complex

Oh, god, what do I do now?!  My son thinks he knows everything about everybody else, thinks he is smarter than doctors, and thinks mental illness is a weakness in one’s constitution that they could stop having by only believing they don’t have it.  He thinks he is omniscient, omnibenevolent, and omnipotent.

Tonight he condescended to tell my daughter and myself that 1)not only does he know more about mental illness than she or I do, 2) but that he also knows how to help her (and me, as an afterthought) become un-depressed by just using magical thinking (I think I’m happy, I think I’m happy) and of course, 3) that he knows mental illness is just a creation of man (for what purpose, I’m stymied–but then humans are stupid little beings who need a god’s guidance).god doesnt exist

He deigned to hold court with us, telling my suicidal, cutting, daughter that she was making up her depression.  That all she needs to do is think positive, live well, and be outgoing and social instead of introverted and a loner.  PS–if you don’t already know this from other posts, my daughter, H, has and always will be, the most outgoing, friendly person you will ever meet.  She has always spent more time out than in–has always ran headlong into anything interesting or different or new.  She has always had dozens of friends, and has always spent lots of time with them.  She has never been a homebody or one to sit still.  So, for my ‘god’/son to tell her its in her head and all she has to do is be outgoing, well, duh.  She already is and it doesn’t change the fact she is depressed!  god_is_disappointed_in_you_cover_lg

He went on to say that psychiatrists and psychologists, and therapists are all quacks, and he will personally never see one, but then, he won’t have to, since he said he’ll never be depressed because he won’t let it happen.  He also said that psych meds are ridiculous, because all they do is addict people so they can’t function without them.  So, when I tried to counter by saying a few years ago, I was very ill with my bipolar illness, but then I got on my current meds, and I am so much better, a different person even.  He said, ya, that’s how they hook you.  But then you have to keep taking them because you’re addicted now.  So, you don’t really need them now, but you are hooked.  So I said, but if I stop, I’ll get sick again.  And he said, that because you’re addicted.  There is no countering with him.  There is no logical debate of facts, theories and outcomes.  There is only ‘A knows all, A is always right’.  He has an answer for everything, even if it makes no sense and cannot be supported.  He won’t budge, won’t see the error of his thinking.  He even denied that mental illness are a chemical disorder, sometimes combined with trauma, life events, and heredity.  He said that he is not predisposed to mental illnesses, even though I have bipolar and depression and PTSD.  I even compared mental illnesses to diabetes and heart diseases and other things like thyroid or COPD.  He told me they are the same!!  That once a person is out of the hospital following a heart attack, that they no longer need to take meds!!  He even went on to say that people with diabetes don’t need insulin!!!  He supported this by saying they didn’t have those issues when they were born, when they were five, or even teens.  So that means they don’t really have those illnesses…they, like mentally ill persons, are simply weak and only need meds during a crisis, but not afterward for longterm maintenance.  He is insane!!!                god like, yes

I don’t know what to do with him, or even if there is anything I can possibly do at all.  He is 17, and can’t wait to get out.  Until recently, he has never been like this.  I raised him to think logically, to gather information, to form a supported opinion.  I raised him to be respectful of others’ perspectives.  I raised him to be kind and caring and compassionate.  I raised him to think for himself.  But, ever since he has joined a certain church, he has become a person I do not recognize, and no longer want to know.  Where is the clever, brilliant, kind young man I raised all these years?  I feel as though I have lost him forever, as though he is gone from my life completely, even though he will be with me for one more year.

This saddens me so greatly, I cannot express in words.  I feel like I am mourning, but he is still here.  I don’t know this person he has become, and I don’t like him.  I want my son back.  I miss him.  And I feel like I must be a terrible mother, have done something awful somewhere along the line, to have lost him like this.religious differences 2

Whose Illness is More Important?

Not suicidal, just dead 2Recently, I have been struggling with physical issues (moderately severe) caused by the only drug that adequately manages my bipolar disorder.  I always was aware that this day might come, that I might have to make a choice between mental health and physical health.  That in and of itself is hard enough to deal with, causing me much mental distress, that is not even yet solved.  I don’t even know if I can solve it so the situation would be acceptable.

Then there’s my daughter’s bf (female to male transgender) and his mom.  Twice now I have taken in the bf (K) for a week each time, when his Mom had to be hospitalized (psych).  This last time, while his mom was in, and he was staying with me, he became suicidal and I had to have him admitted as well.  Then, my daughter’s therapist recommended she be looked at by a psychiatrist for possible mood disorder.  I then learn my daughter has been cutting, and is suicidal also.

I am so torn.  I feel like I need to go into the hospital just for my quandary alone. happy pills I feel so hopeless about my own future, no matter what I do about my meds.  The kids are almost grown, they could make it without me.  But I feel selfish to even think about putting myself into the hospital when she is struggling so.  When she might very well go into the hospital any day at this point.  So, I think I should make my own troubles go to the back of the line of things to take care of in my head.  At least until my daughter is out of danger and is stable again.

They say on airplanes that if there is an emergency and the oxygen masks drop down, that if you have children or other dependents, you should put your own mask on first, because if you do your children first, you may die and there would be no one to care for your kids, and so everyone would die because you took care of your kids first.

So, do I defer my own current troubles, and take care of my daughter’s?  Or do I save myself first (by going to the hospital) and then take care of my daughter’s troubles?  Could she wait that long?  Is it right to make her wait like that?  What about me?

the blue pill or the red pill


Somewhere Else, Someone Else

my daughter wont even tell me whats going on with her, even when i ask every single day.  turns out, after she screamed it at me, that not only does she not even want me to know what is going on with her, she really fucking does not want any help i might have to give.  ya, because all that time and effort and attention i poured into her for 15 years was for nothing.  ya, cause i totally dont want to be the one she turns to when she needs help.  ya, cause i certainly don’t want to give her any help.

so not only wont she tell me whats really wrong, but even when i figure it out, she wont take my help.  she just slaps me away and pushes me back, she doesn’t want me, she doesn’t need me.  she leaves right away in the morning and never comes back til 10.  she cant even fucking stand to be in her own house, cause no one helps her here–cause she pushes them back and won’t tell them anything.  its so bad in her own house, she fucking feels she has to spend all her waking moments somewhere else, somewhere else where they are allowed to know whats wrong, where they are allowed to help and support.  somewhere else, who she loves more than me.

and here all this time, i thought i was soo nice, so concerned, so caring.  but it turns out, i am actually unwanted, unnecessary, unloved.  good thing i dont care, or this might really be hurtful.i give you my heart image


Ok, so a week ago, my therapist made a comment.  A little one, that was just slipped in.  I didn’t actually register it at the time.  It was later, after I’d got home, bits of the session were floating about in my brain and i was resorting them again.  And this one kept drifting back over and over.

It was that she had casually slipped in that we no longer qualify as DID.  I sat with this for a whole week, until this week’s session.  And I said it our right at the beginning–had I misunderstood?  Am I really not DID anymore?  How does that work?  How do you go from being DID, and then one moment you’re just not DID anymore?

Her answer was that from what she observed, I no longer act as separate personalities, but rather as one ‘blended’ personality.  She said she does see parts of all of them, but they are now blended together with me, the one who fronted.  So, I guess that means we are ‘integrated’, and I guess it also means there is no ‘we’ anymore, just ‘I’.  It is strange, because I don’t really feel any differently. This is going to take a little getting used to.


No More

I really mean it this time (ya, sure, like I did so many other times)..and I’m gonna do it this time.  I think I have just reached the end of parenting.  There is nothing more my kids absolutely need from me, and even those things that they still really do need, they refuse to accept.  I can no longer have conversations with them where knowledge is shared both ways, I can no longer give them advice or even ask about their day.  I am rejected, shut down, unappreciated.  Unwanted, unclean, unnecessary (from an anime called Black Butler).  Well, that is me now– I am extemporaneous in my own life.  Somehow, I didn’t think I would fully reach this point of lack of usefulness in my teens’ lives until each reached their senior year.  But, I guess I am lucky enough to get such presents early.  Whoo-hoo yay me!

So, it is like living with 2 people I can’t even smile at, much less have an innocuous chit-chat with.  I can’t do anything remotely parent-like.  So, I just am done.  Done with being treated like the scum on their shoe, done with being treated ungratefully, with not ever getting any appreciation or thanks for anything.  Ever.  As far as I am concerned, from now on I will let them do as they will, and I will only do for myself (except of course for housing, clothing and making ingredients available for food).

I knew one day I would be done parenting, I just didn’t think it would come this soon.  Or with so much bad feelings.

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