I was next door at one of my parents rentals today.  Suddenly I realized I had to pee so I took off to my house.  I got home and ran upstairs and quickly took of my shorts and undies.  I did my business and then suddenly thought, "gee, that feels weird, feels like there is something dangling out of my butt."  I thought for a second and then realized, in my big rush I DID NOT PULL MY THONG UNDERWEAR DOWN!  I had just pottied on my undies!!!!!!!

Once I realized it I had to figure out how to get them off with out covering myself in pee.  I took em off, tossed them in the trash (I was in a hurry for a lunch with friends) ran naked back to my bedroom grabbed fresh undies and hurriedly put my clothes on before my husband came in, after all how would I have explained why I was suddenly naked?

I remember now, there is a reason I stopped wearing thongs, at least I only had to pee right!!

I checked my mail today and was delighted to see a big ole envelope from my bestest blogger buddy Cris Cullen.  I was stoked, I was convinced more good mail would follow. 

But then I saw it.  The envelope from DMV. 

REGISTRATION!

Uggggggg NOOOOOOOOO.  I hate car registration.  It always sneaks up on me, I never plan for it, and I always get fucked trying to find the money to pay for it.

 

But wait?

I started the envelope system.  That envelope is the one I have been most vigilant about from the beginning.  Any extra money I’ve gotten in the last few months has went there.  When I was sure there was enough in it to cover both of our registrations I moved it to the safe and started a new envelope for next year.  This time instead of waiting until the last minute to find a way to pay it and most likely getting a late fee I told Rob to go grab the cash and pay it as soon as possible.  I was almost giddy.

The envelope system may not have solved all of our financial problems.  We aren’t out of debt, money is still tight BUT it did stop it from being worse.  Instead of borrowing from next week to pay registration it is already handled.  One less thing I had to stress about.  

If this is what financial peace is all about, sign me up, I like seeing a bill in the mail and being excited to pay it!

 

In other news, my kids have been real treats lately.  Codi has taken to destroying my home office.  Total destruction.  Ripping up check books, papers, etc.  Dismantling drawers and basically clearing the entire top of my desk off.  A couple weeks ago I walked in to see that him and or Brandon had climbed on my desk and retrieved my spray glue, then they proceeded to see how much stuff they could glue to my desk and carpets.  I came in right about the time that they glued an entire piece of 8.5 x11 paper to my desk drawer with so much glue it was literally dripping…that is a hard thing to accomplish considering it was SPRAY GLUE, it sprays a fine mist.  How long do you think they had to have sat there spraying to make it drip?

Probably about as long as Brandon had to squirt the Febreeze bottle the other day to make a full 12 x12 puddle of Summer Breeze Febreeze in my house, not to mention the amount of time it took for him to soak Codi’s head in so much Febreeze that it took 6 baths SIX for my child to stop smelling like a piece of upholstery. 

Last week I was brushing Codi’s teeth.  We walked downstairs to find Brandon standing by the window with his hand covering something on it.  When I looked at it, he moved his hand revealing a foam sticker letter and simply stated, "Codi did it."  I had a good laugh at that one because it didn’t even occur to him that he had just blamed his brother who had been upstairs with me.  This is Brandon’s new favorite thing to say, "CODI DID IT."  Codi does everything.  If Codi is in the kitchen in my arms and a Cheeto comes flying through the air from the living room to the kitchen CODI DID IT.  If Codi is taking a nap and "someones" cup of milk spills CODI DID IT.  If Codi is playing with the trains and "someone" rips a book CODI DID IT. 

I have found a new theme song for my children CLICK HERE TO ENJOY IT

I’ve always worn glasses.  For a very brief time I tried out contacts.  I have never wanted to gouge my eyes out so bad.  They were worse then the worst allergies I’ve ever had.  I gave up and went back to glasses.

Recently Codi decided to totally mutilate my glasses.  Brandon never did this, but Codi, Codi has some sick obsession with trying to see just how much damage he can do to my glasses in the fastest amount of time possible.  This time he snapped the whole arm off.  I attempted to crazy glue it on, NO.  I tried taping it, NO.  I gave up.  I went almost 4 days with no glasses and finally super scotch taped them so I could at least wear them while working on the computer. 

The problem was I was still getting headaches.  I realized I hadn’t been to the eye doctor in years so maybe it was time to do that.  I went and guess what?  My eyes were different!  I ordered some new glasses but since it would be a few days before they were ready I decided to give contacts a go.  I knew if I asked for a sample they would cost nothing and get me by until my glasses came.  This time we discovered that my eyes don’t tear well.  So I have to keep lubricating drops with me at all times.  

The lady gave me a lesson on putting them in.  "LOOK" she said, "they come with handy little numbers now so if you can see the number you know it’s the right way."

Cool fine.  Only she didn’t tell me if I was supposed to see the numbers on the inside or outside.  If they are one way the inside reads 321 and the outside 123.  I assumed this was the wrong way since she originally showed me with 123 INSIDE.  

Turns out she was wrong.  They were inside out.  Then yesterday I managed to totally crease and mush the contact so I couldn’t even see while driving.  I gave up and popped them out and trashed those ones.  This morning I was trying a new pair of contacts.  Instead of 123 they said OK.  I saw the words OK and thought that means put them in.  Seconds later I was clawing my eyes out.  After fuckng with them forever I finally flipped them so they read KO (but read OK if I looked from the outside) and lo they fit perfect.  I HAD THE FUCKING THINGS INSIDE OUT ALL MORNING.

I seriously fail at contacts.  I pinch them, tear them, put them in wrong and let them dry out.  What kind of person puts not one but TWO contacts inside out.  Dear lord I can’t wait for my glasses to be ready!

By the way, these are my purdy new glasses.  They can’t get here fast enough!

 

Believe it or not these cupcakes are packed with fruit and veggies and taste like the richest chocolate cupcakes ever! To find out how visit here!

Holy shit I posted a recipe.  To see what it is go here.

I just wrote this post. It was beautiful. Then I hit refresh, and since my new blog format doesn’t auto save the whole fucking thing was gone. I’m pretty fucking pissed. Here is my redo, it won’t be as great as the first because the first was from the heart with no thinking, and this version is the over thought version.

My therapist and I discussed methods of distraction. Things to alleviate some of the stress I feel. Stuff to bring me down. I confessed to him that when I’m in these depressive states I avoid doing things I know will make me happy because I get lost in the emotion of it all. While being depressed is hard when it is happening it is comforting and easy and a place you feel safe. He gave me a list of things to help and I was stunned at how much of those things I did while I was in an up state. Burn candles (Salt City, I always do when I’m up), eat good food (I haven’t felt like cooking at all lately), bring in fresh flowers (last week my flowers died, I threw them out and didn’t replace them, a vast difference from the house full of flowers only weeks ago).

One of the other suggestions was doing something you love. I confessed the only three things I’ve ever consistently loved in my life, reading, cooking and scrapbooking. I also told him that other then Twilight I haven’t read since my kids were born. I haven’t had the time, the interest, the money. I haven’t scrap booked since Brandon was a year and a half old. I still cook, but I haven’t cooked with intense love in well over two months. It is hard to sit down and read when there is always a little person in your lap, someone wanting to turn the pages for you, someone needing more milk, someone with some interruption that must be dealt with now. I left promising my shrink I would try and do something positive.

In my head I knew this would be hard. I was already becoming reclusive. I had already noticed myself pulling back. This time instead of just hiding I came out and told my friends. I’m in hiding, I don’t want to leave my house, I don’t want to do anything LEAVE ME ALONE. Of course I didn’t want to be entirely alone I just don’t want to leave my comfort zone, my home, my chair, my safe spot.

While discussing with Ginger my therapy session, we somehow stumbled on the idea of going to Barnes and Noble.

WAIT? Didn’t you just say you don’t want to leave?

Yes.

But. There is an exception and Barnes and Noble is it. It is my happy place. A place where I feel understood, relaxed, surrounded by the thing I love the most. We made plans to go Saturday (yesterday). I was giddy with anticipation. I have not been to the bookstore in ages. Sadly probably over a year. I counted the minutes until Saturday at noon. My husband told me I should stay home and rest. I laughed. Silly boy, doesn’t he know there is no place more relaxing then a bookstore?

Ginger and I took off on our mission. We arrived and I suddenly felt powerful and in charge. This was my turf. First we enjoyed lunch, cheesecake from Cheesecake Factory and some coffee and then off we went. We started in new releases, moved to discount books, on to journals (I could go broke in that section alone), up the escalator to teen (shush there are some great books up there), around to biographies, and ran smack into the food section. The two of us spent minutes pouring over picture after picture of cakes and cookies and chocolate. I hungrily flipped through page after page of slow cooker books, of appetizer books, food books, cookbooks, omfg GET ME AWAY FROM THIS SECTION NOW! We stumbled back towards biographies, passed a book dedicated entirely to potatoes, past children’s and over to the bible section. Yes I wanted to purchase a bible. I want to learn about all religions. I hate being the ignorant one in conversations. I want to learn Kabala, Buddhism, all of it.

Before I knew it we were sprawled out in the middle of the isle reading excerpts of our possible candidates to see if we would like them. Neither of us speaking, passing books back and forth, blocking the path for everyone else but we didn’t care this was our store, our place, if you don’t like our mess get out. I imagine we could have stayed there longer if my husband hadn’t called screaming about CRISIS CRISIS THE BOYS…PRIMER…NAKED…PAINT ON “PARTS.” I knew, at that moment how much the book store ha helped. I laughed off the primer. Meh, so what. I wasn’t stressed that Rob was stressed. I didn’t care that I hadn’t done a thing all day, and I didn’t even rush to leave. Ginger and I picked up our final book choices, moseyed back down to the journal area and travel area then meandered over to the magazine area. Finally we checked out. I left the store with my little green bag of gold.

I couldn’t wait to get home and read, but I was smart enough to know I couldn’t read with the kids there. Ginger and I passed time watching a movie and then finally my parents took the boys for the night. I wasted no time grabbing a book and perching in my favorite chair. Four hours later the book was finished. I hadn’t eaten, I didn’t care. I was refreshed. I was hungry for more books. I pulled out another one went upstairs, climbed in bed and read myself to sleep.

This morning I woke up tired. I wanted to sleep more but how could I sleep with more books to be read. I only had a small window of time with out the boys and I wanted to soak up as much of this new found happy pill that I could.

Today I am so revitalized that I am actually looking forward to cooking dinner tonight. To making good food, marinating, having company. I am a little distracted because there are still books over there screaming “you don’t need to clean READ US READ US.” I have to admit it is hard to ignore their screams.

My therapist was right. Forcing myself to do something I love would inevitably make me happy. As much as I tried to hate the book, tried to wallow in my depression I couldn’t. I was lost in the book. Dreaming up characters, following their love story, picturing scenery, smelling the fresh pages, enjoying the noise a hardback book makes when you crack the binding open for the first time. I was drunk with words and pages and books, I was happy, I was distracted.

My husband made a good point, at the rate I read I should really go to the library so I don’t pay as much money. The thought of that got me excited. Going to the library all alone surrounded by free books, oh yes, I could handle that! I can’t wait to go get myself a shiny new library card. Looks like I have plans for next weekend…if I can make it that long!

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Like I said in my previous post my therapist would like me to document things I am going through. One thing that stands out like a pink elephant in the room is when I start sinking down I go on spending binges. I always have. Before I would go charge up a new credit card. At one point I had two Target credit cards. I’ve been known to be in a bad way and come home declaring to my husband that we MUST buy a new TV now because the old one is just ugly. The next thing I knew we were opening a Good Guys account and not just buying the biggest fanciest TV but throwing in a retardedly expensive Bose surround sound with a subwoofer bigger then my car.

I remember once, being in the midst of a mood and going to Old Navy. I somehow walked out with $600.00 in clothes charged to my Mastercard. Two days later I felt so bad that I went to return about $400.00 worth. The only problem was, in those two days they restocked and while I returned the $400.00 in clothes I walked out with $500.00 more. So somehow I ended up buying $700.00 in crap all because I was feeling sad.

When I was on bed rest I couldn’t stop online shopping. One day, the sheet on my bed ripped. I didn’t feel right ordering another $120.00 sheet so I went to another cheaper website. Before I knew it I had ordered, sheets, pillowcases, a blanket, two kids feather duvets and two kids feather beds. When the box came I was so afraid of what I had done I pretended they screwed up and that I hadn’t really ordered the expensive ass blanket and returned it. I purchased irately expensive bedding for Codi’s room because it made me feel better, never mind the set I had for Brandon was so expensive I needed to take a loan out on my house to buy it, and never mind that it was a million times cuter then the new set for Codi, dammit I wanted something shiny and new and it was for my baby so it was okay.

I never realized my sprees coincided with my lows, because I wasn’t always as acutely aware of my lows as I am now. Which is why I realized Friday that I fucked up. I told Rob Brandon needed some sandals. This was true; he only has Crock type sandals. He doesn’t have anything for going out and looking nice. Rob gave me grief, which I get because we are broke (gee I wonder why Shannon). I was already sinking low and he made it worse. Before I knew it I was at Payless writing a $150.00 check for about 7 or 8 pairs of shoes. Then I walked to Walmart and spent over $200.00 on shorts for the boys, a couple dresses for me and some other shit I didn’t need. We left for California and that night in a moment of frustration I found myself at Kmart spending $100.00 on things like paper plates, cereal and baby lotion. Yesterday morning I realized this was all bad. Very bad. So today I packed up all the shoes and returned them (minus one pair Brandon had worn), I have a bag of things to return to Walmart, and the Kmart stuff I’m stuck with because we don’t have one here.

Even if I don’t spend the money on me I’ll spend it. I’ll buy for the boys, for my husband for my friends, anyone. I can’t get in trouble if I’m buying clothes for Codi right? My husband won’t get too mad if the money I spent was on a shiny new trinket for him.

My husband is reading this right now wondering how he can kill me, collect life insurance and run away and find a NORMAL wife.

I told my therapist about all of this. He said it was good that I recognized that I was doing it and the next thing we need to work on is exercises to make me stop the behavior before it starts, get worse or continues.
I am trying to document all of this. Write down the phases I go through so I can remember them, but also to draw attention to them in case any of you are going through this.

It’s hard living with this disease, this affliction because everything is a problem. Everything is like dominos, tip one and 30 fall. The spending causes depression, the depression causes me to eat, the weight gain causes depression, the depression causes me to push people away, the loneliness causes depression, the depression causes…well you get the point.

There really is no relief from it all either. When I’m not having lows the logical answer is that I’m having highs. Only, when I’m having highs my OCD kicks in. Suddenly I’m on top of the world cleaning, organizing, doing projects, cooking and GO GO GOING! Do you know how much anxiety it causes to go like that? The exhaustion that comes with that kind of lifestyle. Before I know it, I run out of steam, crash and find myself right back where I started, depressed and feeling inadequate because I can’t keep up with the insane cleaning, cooking, parenting that I could just days earlier. The guilt fuels the depression monster and suddenly I can’t even tell which way is up.

That is where I am now. I’m staring at laundry I should be putting away, and dishes to do and crumbs on the floor and all I can think is I’M NOT DOING ENOUGH, I SHOULD BE DOING MORE BUT I CAN’T FUCKING DO IT MY MIND WON’T LET ME. This makes me feel worse. It makes me afraid my husband will come home wondering what the fuck I did all day. Afraid my kids will get less then perfect because I don’t have the energy for a bubble bath tonight. I’m afraid people will think I’m falling down on the job. I don’t know who I am if I’m not the best. I don’t know who I am if other husbands aren’t jealous of Rob’s wife. Jealous because she packs the best lunch and cooks the best food. I don’t know who I am if other men in my life don’t come to my house and wish theirs looked as tidy as mine. Who am I if I’m not the most on top of it mom at the preschool. All of this causes an identity crisis and OH MY FUCKING GOD IT IS ENOUGH ALREADY I DON’T NEED ONE MORE GODDAMN PIECE OF SHIT THING IN MY HEAD.
So there. That is a look into my daily mind. Enjoy.
 

I’ve been sort of quiet on here lately.  I’m going through some stuff in my head and I guess I feel like there is only so much I can whine about it to all of you.   My therapist and I were discussing strategies to help me during high anxiety situations.  In the middle of it I stopped and told him, i feel like lately I’ve been getting sucked back into the hole.  I noticed just 10 days ago I was on a high cleaning spree, on top of the chores, on top of my parenting.  Suddenly I noticed a change.  Doing laundry is like pulling teeth.  Vacuuming?  Who ME?  how is it, my most favorite thing this week has suddenly become something I can’t even stomach doing.

I am supposed to practice doing things I know I will enjoy even if it seems impossible to do it. I am supposed to practice stepping out of the situation and looking at it as if I’m only watching it.  So far tonight I have practiced eating ice cream with chocolate chips on it. 

That is something else I haven’t spoke about in a while.  My diet.  Or lack there of.  My lack of exercise.  My lack of giving a shit about much of anything lately.  I haven’t talked about it because I got really sick of two certain skinny ass bitches criticizing my struggle with weight.  I always find it amusing when someone who has never had an issue with weight feels like they are entitled to judge.  Kind of like people with out kids pretending they know the first fucking thing about parenting.  The truth is I can’t find it in myself to care about dieting right now.  The weight gain depresses me, but the depression cycles around and makes me eat more, makes me more lethargic, makes me feel more like a failure.  

I am supposed to document my struggles with parenting. The moments when I lose it for no reason.  My therapist suggested I document it here.  PS, he sometimes reads, WAVE HI TO MY SHRINK!  I guess that means I should document tonight.  I got in an angry place.  It might have stemmed from an argument I had with Rob before he left, but I somehow doubt it since I was in a shit ass mood before I even walked in the door.  I feel sick, my stomach hurts, I’m cranky for no reason and then BAMN life hit me in the face.  

Rob left for softball and Brandon just started poking the beast.  Poke poke poke and before I knew it I was on fire.  i was yelling to yell.  I tried to step outside myself but I couldn’t beat it.  Finally I went upstairs and helped Brandon get in bed so we could both have some alone time.  Now I’m down here feeling sad at how I handled it all and so the cycle continues.

My final issue right now is my performance at work.  I fucked up last week.  Not a little one.  Not the usual where I spell repalce instead of replace or funrace instead of furnace.  Nope I made a good one. Simply because my brain isn’t there.  My brain isn’t anywhere.  I’m not enjoying cooking anymore.  I’m not enjoying much of anything and my head feels almost empty while simultaneously overloaded.  I haven’t filled out a lick of paperwork for the bankruptcy, and I can’t even remember simple conversations from this week.  I don’t like making mistakes.  I like feeling powerful, I like feeling in control, having my shit together.  I like knowing I’m irreplaceable, knowing what I do matters.  I do not like fucking up.

I’ve also noticed myself pulling back lately from friends.  When Katie told me that the cabin in Tahoe fell through for the weekend I was thrilled because cabin, Tahoe, that meant PEOPLE and PEOPLE scare me, I don’t want to be around people.  People be gone!  I feel like sitting at home with a blanket, some cough medicine and a soft pillow.  I don’t want to clean, or organize, or do laundry or worry I want to do NOTHING.  Well, maybe do nothing while I read a book and sip some ice tea. 

I’ve noticed, doing NOTHING is impossible now that I have kids and I’m expected to be an adult.  How can I do nothing while most of the world is doing something?

My head needs a break.  I need a new psychiatrist.  I need the time to pass quicker between now and the time when my medications are at the right dosage.  I need…peace!

A few weekends ago my mom and I merrily spent the day at the local nurserys buying things for my garden.  Potatoes, onions, chives, basil, cilantro, peppers, tomatoes, oregano, etc.  My garden was going to be glorious.  The next morning BAMN peppers, onions and half the tomatoes gone.  Cilantro GONE!

I was livid.  My house is swarming with squirrels.  SWARMING. 

I moved on, got over it and was making peace with the squirrels.  Until last week when I went outside and discovered the little pieces of shit dug up every. single. one. of. my. tulip. bulbs.  EVERY FUCKING ONE!  The dug so goddamn deep it looked like someone had rototilled my garden. 

My heart broke.  Tulips are my favorite flowers. My favorite part of this house is all of the established trees and flowers. The tulips popped up with out me even knowing they were there.  I was thrilled.  I was thrilled when I saw the iris’s pop up last weekend.  I was stunned when the daffodils came up.  I enjoy seeing all of my different trees bloom.  I don’t enjoy seeing a destroyed tulip garden.  I don’t enjoy seeing all of my long tulip stems strewn about in the dirt.  

What I enjoy less is when I got home last night from a really long trip to find my last two remaining tomato plants DESTROYED. 

MOTHERFUCKERS.  I AM SO FUCKING MAD.

SQUIRRELS YOU ARE ON NOTICE.  KEEP THIS SHIT UP AND I AM TOTALLY GIVING MY HUSBAND FREE REIN WITH HIS PELLET GUN!

(Only not really because I may be an asshole but I’ll never hurt an animal.  You are still on notice though!)

So what do I do now?  My visions of fresh home grown salsa are dashed.  Brandons Halloween pumpkins munched on by rabbits.  What do I do?  Give up.  Stop planting?  Succomb to the idea that I have to buy all of my veggies from the store?  

Sigh.  I just wanted some fresh salsa!

 

** I should ammend this to add, the fucking veggies weren’t even planted, they were still in their little plastic containers and were only there for a few hours.  I planned to put up walls around the tomatoes but I never even got the goddamn fucking chance!