Tag: advice

Divorce, Humanity

Meds and the medsing meds.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

So, these last few weeks have been full of small glitches in the routine, which, yes, I know are ACTUALLY the routine. but still.  sick kids, sick me, sick them, sick middle of the day, procedures, appointments missed, car troubles, money troubles, and so on. . . fucking daylight savings time and missed buses! and you get my drift. . .

so, i’ve been off my routine.  and one of the things i’ve done is been inconsistent with taking my anti-depressants. and thats had weird results.

somedays i have a really weepy afternoon, full of conversations (internal) with an ex, that will never ever happen, and shouldn’t and won’t. and the weep will make me realize i haven’t taken my meds, and will also make me realize i haven’t dealt with a certain something that is on repeat in my brain.

today i have forgotten to take it, and i have no excuse. its my Sunday of relax. I mean, well, i get from wakeup til one, when the kids return and we cook , or play video games or have family come by… today there’s another practice, which i hate, but whatever. i just texted the coach to see if she could do the driving for the kid. we’ll see.

i’m not depressed, i will tell you that.  i’ve friends who are, have been, and what i have is not this.  When the marriage was so hard, I had all the therapists tell me to get on meds, honestly, and I kept saying no because i knew my upset was situational and not chemical. ( i know i’ve talked about this before, but i think it bears repeating, again and again, in case someone needs it).

Once the separation started, the therapist at the time, said the only thing that ever made me change my ways.  She said that being in a hard situation for so long will change your chemicals… and thats what i needed help in dealing with.

oh.  so my crushingly depressing homelife, full of repetition and hope and deflation could be eased with a chemical? no. first i needed to be the only adult here, because i can really count on me.

really.

and that matters a hell of a lot.

but . my point. meds and the medsing meds that i am not always taking.

what i wonder about is this:  these things that are popping up on my weepy afternoons and my mind-ratatattat that i am hearing/feeling…. ARE they things that I must feel in order to have them dissipate?  Have I somehow been dulling these details with the meds? –and the only way to actually heal from them is to FEEL all the feels, even these stupid, old wound ones?

i honestly probably need to seek a therapist, right? does some OTHER person have the answer to this? do I ?

ha. just occurred to me i might find an answer in both directions: if i get consistent again and also if i just stop.

blagh. but, as i need to count on me, and so do my kids, i should probably find out if there are repercussions to stopping before i do.

because hello. MOM.

so what if i just had raisin bran for lunch? i’m the adult.

laughing… its my sunday thinks…

Pills Unwifedmotherexpletive
Photo by freestocks.org on Pexels.com
Humanity

Sage on the mountainside.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

i can tell you this.

i’d never hangout on the top of a mountain. that seems fraught with peril. i’d much rather a small cabin tucked into a nook for safekeeping, with herbs hanging from the rafters and birds that are my friends and some predators that have adopted me and protect me while i sleep.

visitors get to sleep by the fire.

so thats one thing. one thing of all the things i could tell you . so many.

when i went out to clean the chicken coop i discovered one of my hens had died in the night. and its possible she was bonked to death by the several roosters (4) that i have. but i am sad. and after disposing of her in respectful ways, i didn’t really feel like diving into chicken poop anymore.  so the wild springclean has slipped down the list.

but i’ve torn the plastic off a single window and opened it.  ( i am not willing to commit to the plastic-free windows til we are past the frost date because sheesh, frosty toes are bad.)

i was barefoot today.

Still am.

Another thing is this:

I’m lonely, true. But I am so happy that I am not dead, and that I am not still struggling to find my way in that relationship.

Another thing is this:  even with a jackass for president, the world is still indescribably beautiful, and we should all be working for peace in the whole of it.

If this means shunning gun manufacturers or right wingers who think hurting someone is okay, then i’m allright with the shun.  both the silent and the vociferous.

Let’s find out who they are. yeah?

and another thing:  i have organized three whole bookshelves for myself.  and this, in a room that once held all the books of the world, three, for me. only me. all my books. well, hells bells, not all. but comeon, i’m making a point.  there is Poetry, there is ART, there is serious fiction and then there is fantasy fiction, because i love a good swashbuckle with magic, and maybe a dwarf.

its kind of thrilling. and it felt really nice to do for myself.  amidst the dozen popup books, and the christmas collection and the riordans and the nonfictions, there they sit… my three shelves… the kids won’t even notice, but that was my saturday gift to myself. a little mom in the mayhem.

Maybe not trekking up to the top of the mountain will give peace to the seekers.  That would be nice.  I can make soup? Come visit.

#sageonthemountain Slow Down Be present. Take it all in.

 

Humanity

Things… sprouts…upward and onward.

Lovelovemotherexpletive

so. my week of spirit continues.

these are the things.  today is friday. two of the days i had kids home with me. once, a pickup at school because of ‘butt stuff’. once, a kid who couldn’t go because of ‘hurting stomach’- i was worried about coming ‘butt stuff’.

my mom had a procedure on her shoulder which i took her to and from with potentially sick kid lurking…it was fine. kid was fine and procedure was 1000 times better than the last one and we are all so very happy about that.  i even took her home this time, to HER house.  last time, it was a family sleepover at mine.  (my house is a little chaotic for her, at this point, though she’s in grandmotherly love with us)…

i lost a little of my slight rhythm, and intention was unfocused in the changeup of the days.  A little work popped up and I was hyper aware of the money of taxes, as I’ve just gotten my bill, and it seems the table was swept clear in a mad rush to make sure I earned some dough this week, extra and on top.

I can pay my taxes though

and while i did not earn a tremendous amount of money, i do have to pay taxes on the alimony that comes in, and thats the ticket that makes it tough. I will barely make it, but I will.  I saved enough and put it all aside enough, to pay the Man, and to pay my first quarterly payment.  this is BIG, and i whisper it. and turn around, and feel like i need a ‘no spend’ month to get some money back in my accounts again.

This weekend the kids are gone.

and i am cleaning house. the sickness must be laundered out.

the chickens coop must be cleaned out, because i would like to sell the eggs again and these ladies are too blecky after a long winter ‘cooped’ up. (chicken language: its everywhere..)

I am visiting a friend who is having a popup shop but I AM NOT SPENDING ANY MONEY, CECILIA! 🙂 but i will laugh with her, and it is always wonderful wonderful to see her.

I am meeting my sister’s new boyfriend. hee hee. I’m so excited.

Boy holding trophy spring triumph UnwifedMotherExpletive
My kind of Daffodil

This is the season where all the work that has been happening underground becomes visible.  the savings. the growth, the uncurling bean. uncurling unfurling.

what can you see from where you are?   Are you further up and further in ?

 

Humanity

spirited activity

Lovelovemotherexpletive

i’ve got several support groups going right now, support for me, i mean.  i’m a hermit, we all agree, and natural shyness plays a part, as well as the hearing loss.   but these unconnected groups (2) have each asked that its members make some sort of week-long commitment to something they desire.  just a week, small things, little pokes in the monolith of ‘what we want’.  and so i have chosen.  ready?

i’m taking time this week to find my connection to Spirit.  I lost my faith in God when my Dad died, in totality.  Evidently I was mad, and also, now evidently, I had made my deity in the shape of my father.  I am working my way back to something that is related, but utterly different, and i’m just naming it Spirit, maybe as a copout? but as a way to communicate to others what it might be like… for me its like spring earth, chill damp but sunny… potential and a captured bit of change.  a focus on the surreal of nature and the connection i have to the larger world, stars and all.

how do i go about this? i mean, church ? no. no church. i can’t be hemmed in like that.

humility is involved, as always… because i am small, in a big big world.  (so are seeds…dig? )

and writing. i like writing. and want more of it.  and it sends out tendrils into my smoky soul.

six days, right?  tiny.

teeny.

writing as a callout to divinity? universality? maybe i should light a candle.  maybe i should follow a prompt? look at an inspiring card? tarot? oracle?

maybe i should wear my favorite sneakers? dress the part? pencil holding hair? earrings? i know, i’m mostly just kidding. i know there’s nothing exterior that has anything to do with my inner.  but maybe if i put my feather earrings on it will remind me of the flights i take that fill me up and earth me down…

maybe my metaphors will be strong and able to hoist me over the threshold…

see what i did there?

 

love you guys.  i’ll keep you in the loop. 0307191408

 

Humanity

MOney Mony

Lovelovemotherexpletive

So, here in the land of the spring chill, the snow is just about gone. and the copious amounts of dogshit are uncovered… along with the shock and awe campaign of crocus and snowdrop.

Its a tough haul for me right now.  Haven’t been making enough in the freelancing world to satisfy my quotas.  And yes, I can live on alimony and childsupport, but I am bleeding to try and not to.  And, I don’t mean that I am bleeding.  I mean that I am desperately desirous of a financial future which does not involve my listening to J moan. Because the problem really is that I agree with him.  I SHOULD be supporting myself and my children. I SHOULD!

all those other arguments involving the reality of my situation and the kids and the house and the all of it, don’t weigh as much in my inner drama as the capital letters higher up.

and i’ve heard all kinds of arguments against my feelings, and i get it. i wish i could believe in them.

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So, I’m trimming down. I’m cancelling things and I am asking for scholarships to some of the things I want to keep doing but can’t afford to.  And it makes my ears burn and it makes me cry in shame.  (and yes, my sister, i know you would loan me money, but these are my choices and i’m sticking by them. )  Now, if someone else told me about these things, I have a whole host of supportive things I would say.  But me?  I literally feel pain in my heart.

so much shame.  my friend Alix says to me ‘i’m pretty sure capitalism is not okay’. … and i laugh and that feels much better than shame.

and i don’t have any answers or any directions right now. just applying for more work over and over. and stretching to do stuff i don’t feel super comfortable doing. so there. needs. discomfort.