Wednesday, February 17, 2016


Sometimes I want to scream as loud as I can and throw things and punch things until either they break, or I break. 
Sometimes I want to sleep forever and ever.
Other times I feel nothing at all. UNcomfortably numb.

I assume I have lingered in a chronic depression for a very long time. Some days are okay and others, very bad. 
Sometimes I wish I had a visible physical ailment or a pain that I could just go have a tests done and once it was confirmed, I could receive the proper treatment. 
Mental illness is far more complex. Only I can describe my symptoms to someone else to give me treatment. But I have never been anyone else to compare my emotions to theirs. 
Maybe everybody feels this way and I am just more sensitive to it? I really doubt it. But it's hard to say how I feel is severe depression or minor or chronic. Maybe my anxiety makes it worse. Maybe I am just a worrywart.
Perhaps I am just a miserable person and that is my personality. 
Considering I love to laugh and have a wicked sense of humor, I don't think I am generally miserable. That wouldn't make sense.

I experience suicidal ideations every day. When I read an obituary or an article about someones death I feel envy. 
They don't have to suffer anymore. No more pain and anguish anymore. And most of all they are free from financial stresses. 

I have stated often that I would not be here if it weren't for my kids. They need me so I exist to care for them. David says he needs me too, but he could survive without me. It's the kids I worry about. And the cost for my funeral. That would be an extra burden on my family.

But, no worries, I am not going to die. If there is any higher being, I am sure they plan to punish me for whatever for as long as possible. I will probably suffer until I die of old age at 110, with my luck. 
I certainly hope not to live that long. Another ten years maybe and then I will be ready. Joshua will be 13 and the boys will be 18 and 21. 

I hear you saying, " goddamnit go to a freaking doctor already!!" 
But, and there is always a but, I have no transportation, and most importantly, no baby sitter for Joshua. 
I have no friends and no close family, at all. Not even one person. Except David and he works very early, until late. 

Each day is long and each day is, eh just another day. Another day in a wasted life. Another day. 
Joshua brings me sunshine where, otherwise, there would be none.

Monday, February 15, 2016

the days of whine and roses

Time is ticking down to when we have to be out of the house. We have  been doing plenty of cleaning and getting rid plenty of stuff.
Unfortunately, I am married to a pack rat/ hoarder/ slob, so to get him to part with some items are more than frustrating. He seems to have this idea that all this old junky nonsense might, one day, be worth something.
My amateur opinion of those items is that they will only be good to recycle. No fool would pay for his old junk.

Some of his crap we've been moving place to place and it just takes up space. He has boxes of t-shirts and hats he has memories attached to.

We hope to move to a local town until the end of the school years. But really aspire to leave the state eventually. I want my kids to get out of this nowhere town. Someplace with culture and entertainment. I've been trying to get out for my entire life. I hope I can do it.O:-)

Monday, February 08, 2016


We knew the eviction notice was coming but didn't know when. The house we are renting had been in foreclosure for a couple years. I think they just finalized the process in January. We got our notice on Feb.1. 24 hours we had to get out! David was able to get us three weeks. We are hoping we will have our $7,000 from taxes by then so we can get a new place.
We all want to move away, anywhere, and we are excited about that. I need a fresh start. I only hope I can transfer my probation to wherever it may be.
We all need a change and some new scenery. New people. Maybe a younger town, one with museums and nicer parks. I would like some cheap transit system. We are thinking a lot about Tennessee.
 It's going to be stressful and not easy. I'm tired of being stuck in this town.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Memories are weird.

Tis the season of endless Christmas songs. Last night I heard this Nat King Cole tune lightly wafting from the boys' stereo, alerting me that Thanksgiving is now over and Christmas season has begun. I stood in the hall listening quietly as it registered a part of my memory. Not as much the specific song, but the music. It brought me to many, many years ago. But not a specific memory,more like a feeling of a moment. A familiar  and comforting moment. It was a pleasant feeling. A feeling of being safe and happy. Oddly, enough I don't know exactly where or when. 
My Papaw died in 1985 of complications from Alzheimers disease. After he died, I remember finding tapes of Nat King Cole around my Mamaw's house after he died. I can only assume the memories of the Nat King Cole music is from my early years when he was alive.  I am not even sure. 
Strange how unusual things can trigger a memory. A song, a sound, even an aroma. Fortunately, mine are all good memories. Even if I can't picture it in my mind.

Sunday, November 01, 2015


As a kid I never "oohed" or "awwed" over kids and babies. But I was a rather abnormal child. Oddly enough, I always knew I wanted to have children one day. There was nothing more appealing to me that spending my olden years surrounded by my kids and grandkids on holidays.

Seth was born in late 2004, the first of my three sons. And he is dramatically different from the other two.
He is me.
Actually, quite a bit better than me.

He's very intelligent and loves to read. So much so that he has gotten in trouble for reading too often in school instead of paying attention.

He loves to talk to anyone, yet is somewhat socially awkward. This makes me sad.

He is highly anxious and worries about anything and everything. He is extremely anxious when it comes to Joshua. He is so concerned about something bad happening to Joshua. As a fellow sufferer of anxiety, I try to help him with calming techniques as much as I can.

Seth is extremely sensitive and easily upset, especially at school. If he doesn't understand something he might cry out of frustration. One kid that was in a class with him said he wished he had earplugs.
:( Teachers can't stand him because he needs extra encouragement and reassurance( not their fault, they have a lot of kids to tend to and they don't have the time)
Seth becomes obsessed with things he is interested in. Lately it is a Youtube series called "Battle for Dream Island" or something. He has printed out the characters and cut them out and pasted them on popsicle sticks and has them perform episodes, rolling dice to determine the outcome. He knows their personalities and voices.

He loves non-traditional or typically girl toys. he often wonders why the cool toys are for girls. He loves My Little Pony and wants a Bratz Doll. But at the same time he is extremely insecure in the fact that he enjoys these toys. I told him that he can play with whatever he wants, toys are toys. Sean sometimes picks on him and I shut that down quickly.

I feel very protective over Seth. Because he is so much me.
Sean will be fine in life, but I am more concerned about Seth because he is so quirky and unusual. In his adulthood those traits can allow him to excel, but until then, other kids (and teachers) tend not as accepting of his differences.

He saw a psychologist a few years ago that determined that Seth simply "marches to the beat of his own drummer"
And I love that about him. I hope he's never forced to change.

Friday, October 23, 2015


One day, to distract myself from reality, I read an article about a young nun and her reasons to go into a convent and some of her experiences. I found it quite interesting for reasons you may not expect.
I am not a religious person, actually I don't follow one at all. 
But I found myself fantasizing about her life, the young nun. The fact that she doesn't have to make any decisions. At.All.
She has a routine she would follow every day, she had chores to do and she just prays the day away. She doesn't have to make any decisions. If you don't have to do that, you can't make the wrong ones. Right?
Granted, I have no desire to pray the day away. But if I could just exist in a everyday boring routine and not have to decide anything, it would be pure bliss. 
David and I have always joked that we had our first child to make choices for us. even back in the days when we wanted to simply go out to eat, that decision was annoying as heck. 

Then as time goes by, you have to make bigger and more important choices. I don't want to decide because I might make the wrong one and , unlike those "Choose your own Adventure" books of  my youth, you can't go back and pick the other option if you discover you picked a shitty choice.

These days I sit knowing I should do plenty of things, but afraid to do the wrong thing, so I do nothing. That is me.
Perhaps I am so consumed by my anxiety. Thankfully, David is smarter than me. I am pretty lucky he picks up the slack because these days I am quite worthless.

If anyone reads this, they probably think I am a huge whiner. Which is okay. I really don't have anyone to vent to and many years ago a therapist told me to write down my feelings or some nonsense. So that is what I do.  If I don't post anything for a while, that means I am doing okay. I  add to this blog ting when I am feeling my most pathetic. Such is life, I suppose.

But in the last few months, I have been arrested, fired, threw my career away, filed for every government assistance I can, and still cannot pay the bills, or the rent. David works his butt off for little money and I have no qualifications to get a job other than the career I cannot continue in. So I think anyone else would be miserable as well. It  is what it is and sometimes I think I just exist in a low level depression and self loathing, functioning day to day. I don't see a bright future for myself. And that is hard to realize.
For years, I could always find a light at the end of the tunnel. But it isn't there for me anymore.

Thursday, October 22, 2015

The Haunting story of David Sharp

I have always had a fascination with all thing macabre or horrifying. The creepier and stranger the tale, the more interesting I find it.
Today I stumbled across a documentary on Mount Everest and the fact that over 200 people have died atop the mountain and many, due to the extremely high cost of removing them from the mountain, end up remaining there frozen in time. The bodies lie there in the snow as climbers step over them. Apparently, some of the bodies are pushed off of ledges and cliffs so they will be out of view.
David Sharp was a British climber that froze to death on the mountain in 2006. The documentary I saw actually had him in it.  The group doing the documentary passed him while he was huddled in a cave, they thought he was already dead at first but noticed movement and breath vapor. They encouraged him to keep moving and went on their way. 30-40 people passed him dying in the cave and kept going.
I have never even thought about climbing  a mountain. Heck, I have only seen snow once. But I am so haunted by the fact that this poor man froze to death all alone in the span of a day. Granted, at that altitude hypoxia and frostbite are so common, one has to keep moving or die. But I cannot imagine walking past a barely alive human being and continue to move on.
I just imagine what that poor man was thinking sitting in that cave knowing he would probably freeze to death alone in the dark. The thought horrifies me.
Apparently his frozen body remained there for a year before he was moved. A grim reminder to other climbers that it could happen to them, too.