Category Archives: Incessant Whining

I’m Sorry We Made Fun of You, Gerabaldine

When I was a little kid, my friend had this kind of ugly, knock-off Barbie that was almost completely bald save for a few follicles of millimeter-long brown hair. I don’t know why she was bald but we named her Gerabaldine. And we laughed and laughed. What a hoot, right?!

I had actually planned on blogging about something only marginally related to my hair situation and not at all about my hair itself. But… I figure I’ll see some of you sooner or later and I won’t be able to hide it so…we may as well just go there and get it over with.

My hair is falling out. A lot. Get the whole story »

I’m Just Not Ready for Any of This

Ugh…today is a hard day and it’s only 10:45am.

It started last night with the huz and I talking about our ten year old daughter who is starting to ask questions about Santa Claus. Of course we want to be honest with her but 1) she asked when our five yr old was around, so we really couldn’t and 2) once you spill the beans about Santa, the whole house of cards will come tumbling down—Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny—all that magic will evaporate in an instant. I’m not ready for that.

And today, my daughter has her last cheer event of the season. They cheer at games until October and then they do competitions for a while and then the season is over. I’ve been a very involved cheer mom and so it was hard to put her in a car this morning with her team, knowing I won’t have any contact with her until after 7pm tonight. At the last competition, cheerleaders and parents weren’t totally separated all day but at this one we are and I hate it. I didn’t even get to hug her goodbye this morning. She was in the car doing something and then BAM…they were leaving. I told her I loved her and she’s like “Okay, bye mama”  OUCH. Get the whole story »

Braindump

The feeling. It’s subtle but it’s there…quietly threatening.

The only way to describe it is to say that I’m starting to feel disconnected from everything around me…again. I hear you, I see you, I talk to you—but it’s like there’s glass between us; between me and the world. It’s like a…precursor to depression; not as bad as the real thing but not so great either.

It could just be hormonal mood swings that will be gone as quickly as they came.

I hope.

I’ve been weaning myself off Wellbutrin realllllly slowly and it’s working out okay. I just hate being beholden to medication. I know if you need it you should take it but there’s this nagging voice in the back of my head that always reminds me that this is my BRAIN we’re tinkering with and that being on any brain-tinkering drugs long term might be bad for you and really, who’s going to tell you that? The drug makers? Pffffftttt. RIGHT.

So anyway, what I think I really need right now is to TALK, with actual spoken words (as opposed to emails and IM’s) to someone who isn’t my husband or children. I’ve been isolating myself….burying myself in new projects and hiding from the world. That can’t be healthy *sigh*

/braindump

Let the Sun Shine In (Before I Bite Someone’s Head Off)!

Hi! I’m happy! How are you?

Ha…I know. That kind of intro to a post just makes me sound crazy. Pretty soon I’ll be handing out flowers at the airport in a melon colored sari. And right now? That doesn’t sound half bad because the clouds have parted and the SUN IS SHINING! For a change.

You see, for months now, I’ve been on this rollercoaster of mood swings. I think it’s commonly referred to as PMS except mine is more like Pre-Menstrual Life Force-Sucking Demon from Hell…or PMLFSDH. And I do NOT exaggerate.

You menfolk might just want to check out now since I’ll be talking about lady things like OVULATION and PERIOD and BLOOD. Although a real man would stay. And leave a supportive comment. Or at least tell me I’m pretty.

Okay, for those that are still playing along at home… It starts around ovulation—my sex drive escalates because mother nature is a whore that wants to knock me up AGAIN. I mean really, the time you’re most fertile and likely to conceive should be the time you LEAST want to get busy but nooooo… Propagation of the species blah blah blah. WHATEVER. Like we NEED more oxygen-hogging PEOPLE on the planet…

So anyway, after the three day window of IREALLYWANTSEX closes, the PMLFSDH starts to kick in. I become irritable. And hungry. And anti-social. And anxious. And SO SO SO tired. Like the “my whole body aches with tired” kind of tired and I nap every morning as soon as everyone leaves. And I have ZERO motivation to do ANYTHING. And I don’t answer the phone. And I get sad. And melancholic. And I feel persecuted. And I’m positive everyone hates me. And I break out like a 14 year old boy. And the mood-elevating drugs are a FAIL. And did I mention being irritable?

And this shit goes on for TEN TO TWELVE MISERABLE DAYS in which I pray every second for my period to come—I literally sit there staring at the white toilet paper willing a hint of pink to magically appear on it because I just want the PMLFSDH to STOP. I mean, really,  who prays for their period anymore? That’s so high school. And college. And first six years of marriage…

But then I wake one day, like I did this past Thursday, and I’m happyish. I don’t hate the world. And I don’t want to bite the heads off of live humans anymore. Not even a little.

I know without even looking that my period has arrived.

I can answer the phone again. And make plans with people. And do stuff like clean the house and plan meals and spend honest-to-God quality time with my kids and feel warm and fuzzy about life and I’m so happy to feel happy that I become giddy. And I make jokes. And I don’t want to eat big bowls of butter and sugar. Or a pound of bacon. And I feel like exercising again.

And everyone breathes a sigh of relief because that awful woman is gone and the awesome, fun, patient one is back.

But I know it won’t last and I find myself mentally calculating the number of good days I have left until the huge black clouds comes back and take their preferred spot right over my head and the cycle starts all over again.

So, if you know me and I suddenly check out, nowhere to be found…or I snap at you…or criticize you mercilessly…or eye your food like I’ve been starving for months…or don’t do ANY of the stuff I said I would do etc etc etc?

Well, now you know why. Just go away and leave me the hell alone.

If I’m not completely embarrassed by something I did or said, I promise I’ll call you when I get my period.

Always with the Guilt…

I’m not an anxious person by nature. I mean I do worry about things but I don’t SUFFER from anxiety naturally. It’s actually a side effect of my antidepressant which…I’m pretty sure I can’t live without. So. I just deal with the unfortunate side effect of random anxiety.

It doesn’t come every day. In fact most days I don’t have it at all. But when I do, it’s horrible. Today is one of those days. It made me think I had an upset stomach at first. But then the guilt started creeping up on me and that’s when I realized that this horribly unsettled feeling I have is the anxiety monster. Again.

The guilt, always with the guilt… It overwhelms me and I feel so awful. I don’t know what to do with myself.

All I can think about is lost time and missed opportunities and things that will never be again and I just want to cry except I can’t because my kids are here and it would upset them. And considering that every ounce of guilt in my pounding heart is about my failings as a mother, the last thing I want to do is upset my kids.

Why? WHY do I dwell on these things? My rational self knows it’s just the anxiety talking and it also knows that regret is a useless emotion, that what’s done is done. Nonetheless, all I can do is think about how my kids aren’t babies anymore and all the times I didn’t play dolls with my daughter (because I really hate playing dolls) and how now she likes to go in her room and read or draw. With the door closed. And it’s like a sign to my crazy anxious heart that she is slipping away from me and I want to cry for all the times I missed playing with the little girl that she is no more. And I know it’s absurd. I know I have done plenty of memorable, wonderful things with her but I can’t think about that. All I can think about are the reasons I should feel horrible; all the ways in which I’ve failed.

My son is 4 now and while I feel so shitty and anxious that I just want to roll up in a little ball and sleep forever, that I WANT to do that is just one more example of how I am failing him. Why am I not outside with him. Why are we in the house? And then I think of all the reasons we’re not outside and goddammit. I’m just full of excuses, aren’t I? So I pledge that tomorrow will be different even though I’m pretty sure it won’t be. I know myself. And I fail again.

So I give in and I take the Xanax. I never want to but it works and soon all of this will seem silly and maybe even comical—but you know what? I’m going to publish it anyway. Because this is the truth.

Dear Craigslist People

Dear Craigslist People,

I know you turn to Craigslist to find a bargain (unless you’re one of those jackasses that posts nekkid pix of yourself from your Grandma’s bathroom…the crocheted poodle toilet paper cover is a dead giveaway, just in case you were wondering how I knew you were at your Grandma’s house perving it up in her bathroom. Also, FYI, pictures taken in your nasty bedroom with the Whitesnake poster on the wall OR a Spongebob blanky anywhere in sight? NOT HOT )

Anyway, I know you folks want to save a few bucks so you look around on Craigslist but seriously, you need to KNOW a few things…

If I’m selling 60 pieces of name-brand girls clothing, all in excellent condition and I’m only asking $20, which, for the math-impaired, is 33¢ an item, I’m NOT taking pictures of every single item and I’m NOT going to answer stupid questions about every item and I’m NOT going to sell it to you for five freaking dollars—especially when I know your cheap, sorry ass is probably going to turn around and sell it on eBay anyway. Which is fine. I hate eBay so better you than me. But I’d give it to Goodwill before I’d let you have it for that—go buy it from them. I mean really…have you NO shame? I’d be embarrassed to ask people to give me a SEVENTY FIVE PERCENT price break…

The same goes for the Little Tikes Craftsmen Tool Bench. Dude…it’s in mint condition and I’m asking twenty dollars for it. Do NOT send me an email asking if I’ll take five for it.  Is there anything in my listing that says this is “Let’s Make a Really Bad (for me) Deal?” If you seriously can’t afford more than five bucks, maybe you should SELL YOUR COMPUTER (I’ll give you five bucks for it) and get rid of your internet service instead of lowballing people on Craigslist all day long.

And finally, for all you asswipes that bug the living crap out of me and beg me to not sell my stuff to someone else and then don’t show up… I wish you a scorching case of herpes with a nice sprinkling of genital warts. I mean you clearly have a phone, since you called me 17 times to make sure I hadn’t sold the item(s) you so desperately wanted. How about picking up said phone and letting me know you won’t be coming? I might even be nice and understanding and NOT wish you a lifetime of oozing blisters and weird bumpy things on your nether regions. But if you offer me five dollars? All bets are off.

As ever,
IzzyMom

Attitude is Everything!!!

When I woke up this morning with my head throbbing, husband grousing around and my children carrying on about one thing or another…I wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. I feel like that a lot lately, as noted in a previous post. I think my exact thought this morning was that every day lately my life feels like it’s imploding “to collapse inward as if from external pressure.” I don’t know if it’s me, like my perception is skewed and nothing is really as bad as it seems, or if it’s exactly as it seems and I’ve just reached my saturation point.

I actually said this morning, in a moment of extreme fed-upness, and in my husband’s general direction,  “I can’t stand you people anymore. One day I’m going to run away and never come back.” Nice. That mother-of-the-year award I was coveting is definitely a pipe dream now.

It’s not that every second of every day is awful. It’s not. In between the impatience and outbursts and complaints, there is love and laughter and fun. But if I had to sum it all up…it’s still pretty sucktastic. I’ve totally been phoning it in with the kids being back in school. PTA membership papers sit on my desk ignored. Girl Scout event emails calling for parent volunteers make me want to run and hide. It’s all I can do to get up and get the kids off to school. Everything that’s not mission critical just keeps getting backburnered. How long can you do that, exactly?

I just…don’t feel like I have both feet on the ground. I feel tethered by a very, very thin thread and I’m up there just blowing around in the wind…waiting for something to pull me back down. I’m not depressed, per se. But it’s something.

Every day is the saaaaaame. My husband is always in a bad mood and I’m overwhelmed. I never get enough done. I’m always ten steps behind everyone else and playing catch up…just trying to get through the day so I can lather, rinse and repeat the next day.

Again, I have to ask…is it just me? Am I seeing things through a warped lens? Could I shake this off if I really wanted to?

Whilst lamenting to my BFF this morning about my husband, who has been PMSing for about a year straight, she brought up something I haven’t thought about in a very long time—the law of attraction. Basically, you attract what you put out there. She was talking about how it can be difficult to get yourself out of a funk because you’re feeling so negative and thus, attracting more of it to you.

We were actually talking about my husband but in that moment, I started thinking of myself and wondering if I was the architect of my own misery. In my head I envisioned one of those photocopied flyers that an old boss had tacked up in her wood-paneled office. It said “Attitude is everything!” and proceeded to tell you all the ways in which a bad attitude will defeat you.

Shit. My attitude SUCKS, I thought. But then I countered that with “How can you have a good attitude when you’re surrounded by people who are perpetually dissatisfied? SOMEONE is always unhappy and we’re never all happy at the same time. We’re so…out of sync. And I don’t know how to fix that, even with the world’s bestest attitude.