Me

I have been sitting on this blog for two days. It's hard to pinpoint exactly why I can't seem to get it out there, but it really has been difficult. I thought that I was doing well. I have been doing everything I should. Things are coming together and it felt good. I was sort of brought up short yesterday by a judgement of my character that was so very wrong.

The thing about the comment was that it honestly could have been a compliment. It should have been. Yet, I felt like this person should have known me better. It made me wonder how well I put up a front. I thought it was time to be honest with myself. I needed to reflect. The awful thing about the reflection is that I still don't like what I see. Even with all the changes and steps forward, I don't see myself the way others obviously are. So, I thought if I got it out. Really talked about who I am and how I feel, it might help. This may never see print. It might. I guess it really depends on how well I express myself. I started in poetry, so this may go very metaphorically.

When I look in the mirror every day, I absolutely HATE the person looking back at me. I hate the weight gain and the feeling that I am just not remotely attractive anymore. I hate that I have bags under my eyes. I never really smile for the sake of it anymore. It's not that I am not happy. I am. I just don't deserve to be. That girl staring back at me, she's the one person I can honestly say I hate. I have a self loathing so deep, most people would probably be shocked to hear it. As my physical body falls prey to the darkness that is my perception of myself, it just gets worse. It's like a run away train, but it seems to have no plans of stopping anytime soon.

I grew up under the heading of "NOT GOOD ENOUGH." I have lived there my whole life. Nobody intended that for me, but it was how it was. I was too curious. I was too talkative. I was too forward. I needed to be more like a girl/less like a girl. All of this in childhood. I needed to watch my weight. I could not wear my hair that way because it looks like I didn't care. I had to wear this. I couldn't wear that. I was too slow. I was too fast. I cried all the time. I never showed emotion. All of this in my teens. The cycle kept going. I shouldn't date him. I should marry him. I should run from him. I should do this/that different in my marriage or with my kids. My kids are that way because I do this. I should grieve for my daughter as long as I need. I should just get over her. I should take my kids outside more often. I should protect their health and find indoor activities. It just goes on and on. I was never good enough. I have spent my life watching others and hoping I could catch on and find the "right" answer, but as soon as I did, I was wrong.

Since I took my life back and stopped listening to those people that did that, whether they knew it or not, I haven't seen so much of it. They have learned to accept that they couldn't do this. It doesn't change the damage done. No matter how good I get at something, someone is always going to question it. If they don't, because I was raised to feel inferior, I will. I will always question myself. I cannot name the times in a week that I say, "My head says..." because I know that how I feel and the reality can be different. This goes for all aspects of my life. I will always question my choices. If I am called out for something, I take it to heart because I know, whether they do or not, it's my fault. It always is.

As I grew into my own, people started realizing that I had grown up. They started to realize I was a grown up that was seen as responsible. With responsibility comes no little amount of expectations. Now, I am expected to do all manner of things, even when it means dropping important appointments or schedules in my own family to do them. I am expected to do them as an adult of the family, PTA, etc. Guess what? I never get those right either. As a matter of fact, when all that gets added into my already insane routine, I start getting my own stuff wrong.

Now, I know some of this is just that "not good enough" demon running around in me, but I screw up more than anyone I know. I forget dates, birthdays, appointments. If I don't forget them, I mix them up. I have tried date books, reminders, and other assorted things. They don't work. So, I throw myself into it harder and faster, trying desperately to prove I am not a screw up. I put in all I have to prove that I am good enough.

As I do this, I let my marriage slip. I am so concentrated on proving I can do something right, that I unknowingly step down there. So, my appointment life is going well, but my marriage is getting more tense. Alright, I need to find a balance. I reach for that balance, but ultimately, something falls through and I screwed up again. Sometimes it's small, but most of the time, it feels really big. I have so many things going on, most of which can't be put off or let go, and I am screwing them all up. Sometimes, I feel like the universe is playing an epic joke on me. I honestly feel like I can't win. Then, when something goes right, I question it because I know I don't deserve it. This is me.

I have no faith in myself. I don't feel strong. I feel like a grain of sand in a very large ocean. I swell out with the tide, only to be pummeled over and over by the ever rising and falling waves. I see my life in all it's colorful glory. Some of those colors are ugly as hell. Some choices I questioned at the time of making them, I have deemed the right choice. The thing is, I will always question my choices, even long after they are gone. If I always live in this cycle of feeling not good enough, I will always question where I went wrong. I love my life and the people in it, but I look at them and wonder, how in the hell do they love me. I sure as hell don't.

If I seem different, it is from a lifetime of learning to cover up my true feelings. The majority of anger and upset that people see, is directed at me. It is, yet another, clear reminder that I won't ever cut it. It's just a projection of how I feel about me. I don't question how I got lucky. I am afraid to. I have a wonderful wife and two beautiful kids. I do wonder what they see in me, but I don't question it. I think that they are why I have gotten as far as I have. They keep me sane.

I am getting better about all of it. I am learning to trust my wife, and a few others, as to when to question and when to simply let it be. They are teaching me how to at least be alright with myself. It's a long road. I have spent a very long time feeling worthless. I am slowly starting to see worth in myself, but sometimes I wonder if I will ever see myself the way others do. There are few things that I have accepted. I am a good mother. I love my kids. I will always fight for my kids. I will always do what is right for them. I know enough to know that is true. I love my wife. I could stand to be a better one to her, and I need to, but I am working on it. As far as loving myself, maybe some day. You all know I am a fighter. I will fight for it. Let's just hope I do it right. Let's hope I am good enough to get there. Some days I think I might, but most days...

Life's Not Fair....

If you have read my blog for any length of time, you know that once upon a time, I was the black sheep. I was the girl that would never grow up, the girl that got married too early and would fail, and the girl who wasn't considered responsible enough to have kids of her own. While, I concede that my marriage did not last, I can say that it lasted longer than most of my other family members' marriages, by a hell of a lot. I mean, my marriage to Puck has lasted longer than my own mother's. And yes, I was young when I first got married. When I had kids, I had a long road to really learn what being a mother was about. I got there, though. They will tell you. I got there. Somehow, I went from the black sheep to being the most commonly referred to as "responsible". Of all the aunts, cousins, and my own mother, Puck and I are considered to have the healthiest relationship. We are considered to be the most responsible, despite the living pay check to pay check. It took me until today to figure it out, though. I could not, for the life of me figure out why.

Today Puck had to go over to my grandmother's and do a few things. It wasn't anything much. She did a little shopping, washed the dishes, and made things more accessible for my grandmother. It was the first time either of us has done this for her, due to living the autism life. Apparently, my family has been "taking turns" to "care" for my grandmother. That sounds nice, doesn't it? If only it were the way it sounded. When they say taking turns, they mean that my mother goes over there four days a week and the rest of the family the other two. Now, before you feel bad for my mother, she IS the only one without children home and she does live closer than the rest of us, but come on! Both of my aunts have older teens. They should be able to carry something more than two days between them. Now, as you may recall, I stated this was our first time. That is true, but we have been told on numerous occasions that our children tire my grandmother out. We have been running all over kingdom come and, honestly, with this life, it is hard to add something extra in. We have been wanting to do more to help, but we were so completely unprepared for what they consider "care".

Puck did the shopping, to which we found out that the last time she went, was when I took her. She brought it into the house and chatted for a minute. Though my grandmother was obviously in pain, she stated she was fine. Yeah, my ass! Thankfully, Puck sees these things and knew she was hurting. My grandmother was insistent that the milk would not fit in the mini fridge, to which Puck told her that "she would make it." She did get it in there, but it got us thinking. Why did nobody else do this? She really can't walk, let alone be climbing stairs. Once the groceries were away, Puck grabbed the dirty dishes to take them upstairs, as my mother says she does every night, to wash them.

As she got up the stairs, she found dishes all over the counters, the stove, and in the sink. The dishwasher had not been run and was full. There were coffee and food stains all over the counter. How is this "taking care" of grandma? It took Puck 15 minutes to get this cleaned up and straightened out. It wasn't a one day mess. This was a culmination of dirty that was being ignored. Yet, someone in the family is there once a day. I don't understand. Puck was horrified. We then realized that they have been bringing her ONE meal every day. I don't eat much, but that is just ridiculous. This woman is the paramount female in our family. She not only raised her kids, but had a major hand in raising their kids' too. A dismissal like this, no, a disregard for this woman and her home is terrible. Now, we only have one car. We live on a limited income. Yet, if we had the key and the means, we both have said we would be there everyday as a silent entity. We wouldn't want the family to know because, let's be realistic, they would stop coming. They would assume we would just do it, except they aren't really doing it.

Now, here Puck and I stand in judgement of those that have spent a lifetime telling us that we aren't doing it right. They all agree that we have grown up and are the most responsible family, but it is now clear to me why. While they have been repeating their mistakes, living in their bubbles, and judging every move that we make, we have been raising two children with autism. As time goes by, we get better at time keeping, appointments, hectic routines, and life in general. We try really hard not to repeat mistakes because, in all honesty, we learned long ago that if it doesn't work, it doesn't work. Yes, we have done some unconventional things. We don't always do it the way others would, but it works. We found a way to make it work. When it stops working, we find a different way. We don't go back. They have all slipped into bottles of one sort or another, to stew in the troubles they have and how hard life has gotten with this extra chore. my mother has been stressed to her max with getting a room ready for my grandmother after her surgery. Yet, in two weeks, I haven't spoken to her after five that she wasn't at least tipsy.

We don't drink. We don't take vacations. We don't have that luxury. We are going from midnight to midnight. There is always someone awake here. We run from start to forever, because there is no finish. We would love a vacation. We would love to go visit family on the opposite coast. We would love to have a weekend getaway, just us. Every member of my family has done that this year. We don't get to. We are in the trenches of this life. It is hard, but we are content. Maybe instead of drowning everyday in substances and bitching that they can't do it, they should look at those around you that you admire. They say that we are so responsible, but our lives are busier than we let on. They don't hear about the fights for pants or teeth brushing. They don't know about the routine appointments to different therapists. They never hear me bitching that Puck works nights and we don't see each other often. Yet, they envy our lives. They don't know what we do. They really don't. We have the healthiest relationship, according to them. Could it be that we are the way we are because, despite how hard it is and the things we have to give up, we accepted the responsibility? The last time Puck saw her family, was when we left them. Yet, they can't manage a simple task like wash one person's dishes and wipe the counters without whining that they need a vacation. They are "too stressed out."

As far as caring for those whom they love, they should be putting in more of an effort. You don't know how long you have with them. To my family, who feels they do so much and can't possibly do more....We know grandma doesn't have long. So, stop putting in a half assed effort and give with your whole heart. You taught me that life isn't fair. It's not, but you play what is dealt to you. Follow your own advice. Despite the fact that our life doesn't really allow for the extra's, we manage it. So I suggest you figure it out. Otherwise, don't bitch at me that YOU can't do it. We do it every damn day!

My Homework...

So, I am going to try and do what they suggested I do and just run a stream of thoughts out here without stopping. It was a good suggestion, as my life seems to be jumbled together, much like my thoughts. I feel sort of stupid doing it, especially in a blog, but I don't really write much anymore do to an injury, so you all get the benefit of this piece of advice. I have been attending therapy, both group and singular for parts of the crazy that is my life. I have tried to stay positive. Mostly, I have been able to do that, but some days are really so much harder than others. I am trying to deal with so many things at once. Due to the public nature of my blog, I will be likely editing some of what I write out, thus keeping my anonymity, but hopefully it still flows in a readable manner. Alright, so here goes.

Lately, the world has been spinning. I have been living in that person I was years ago, that can't do anything right. It is making the things I am trying to accomplish very hard. I am wanting desperately to grab hold of my life, but find that it is not something I have been able to do. I am dealing with my own personal demons, many of which are the reasons behind the counseling, but I have been dealing with stuff for the kids too. Both kids have hit that puberty stage, where they have suddenly gotten harder. Their meds are not working as they should and I have lost complete control. I am not sure how to gain it back. JJ has been stealing almost daily. It doesn't even seem to matter what it is anymore. It is like it has become a habit. Where he used to give excuses or try to hide it, he is now just throwing the word "whatever" around and genuinely seems to not care what it is doing to us all. I feel completely disregarded. On the best day, I feel like I am struggling to regain control. On the worst, I wonder why I even try. His attitude has gotten so terrible that I have entertained the idea of a home. Logistically, I can't do that, for many reasons, but it has crossed my mind.

I am so angry at myself for missing the psychiatrists' appointment today for the kids. I can't say for sure that it was my mistake, but it feels like it. I have been running and running and things are starting to fall through. I realize that. I also realize that I need to take better care of myself, though haven't figured out how best to do that. I am not eating right. I am not sleeping. I am just go, go, go. I need to stop for a minute and breathe. I need to look around and realize that I am not alone. I do have help in Puck. I just feel like sometimes, she does so much. I wonder if I asked too much of her when she signed on to help me raise these two. I know she would object, but I can't help but question it.

I meet with the advocate tomorrow. I am terrified to do that. It's like a last line of defense in this long ass battle with the district. I don't understand why it is so hard to get help for your kid, when it is obvious they need it. Even when presented with unfailing evidence, they turn a blind eye. What happens if my son does something that is jail worthy? What then? They don't know. They know it's possible, but they choose to ignore it and pursue the idea that it is all rainbows and sunshine. It's crap. I know they don't really realize what we do at home, but even when presented with a clear picture, they choose to interpret it as "my problem" instead of ours. We are raising these children together. How is it we can't find a common ground?

Like with SS and her teachers. I have been told she doesn't "look autistic". The teacher could not tell me what autism actually looked like, nor should she have been able to, because it never looks the same. Add in the fact that she is a girl, and there is a world of things these teachers don't know. SS has been up EVERY night in the kitchen. Her tests show that she has not metabolic issue, but she is up at 3 or 4 AM gathering food and hoarding it in her room. Often times, it is not something I would give her. Honestly, I worry that some night she is going to eat something she shouldn't and get sick. She has been blatantly ignoring us. When I say that, I mean we will tell her no and she will do it anyway, right there in front of us, all the why arguing why she should. Again, puberty and a med imbalance is likely to blame. I think that is why I cried this morning in the office. How could I screw up the most important appointment for them? It's still a blow.

Her teachers are stark raving mad.  They refuse to acknowledge her autism and have been less than accommodating in all aspects of schooling. They make me feel two feet tall. I am the one teaching most of the subjects, but in their eyes, I know nothing of my child. She walked out of class the other day and handed me a five dollar bill. I asked the teacher where she got it. She said she didn't know. This woman has ten children in her two hour class. How does she not know? I asked her to give the money back to the student, if she found out which child it was. I then asked her what the deal with this "contest" my daughter keeps bringing up. Again, she didn't know. I wonder what she really does, if she can't keep tabs on ten kids in two hours. I could do that in my sleep. She is the "accredited" teacher, but I do all the teaching. I know my kid. Don't look at me like I shoved a pencil in your eye, when I ask you a question or tell you about something that may affect you.

The insistence that there be dates on every scrap of paper she turns in, absolutely irritates me. You see that the work is there. You, as a school, are adamant that it is not the day, but the weekly hours, that count. So, tell me why you require a date on everything. You said the date didn't matter. Now, I have to go back through over 40 school papers and date them, all because you are too lazy to look at the lesson plan that you made for me. I don't have anything else to do, really.

And don't even get me STARTED on the situation with my mother and grandmother. I don't even have words.

See what I mean. I ran all over with that. It's a pretty good look at where my thoughts are and where I have been lately. Add in my personal stuff, and you have one hell of a mess. I am pretty positive. I know that I have to go through these things to get to a settling place in my life, but damn the ride is bumpy. I will continue with all I have to do. I will attempt to remain positive. As far as caring for myself, well, I do have a concert coming up. I think I deserve that. I think we both deserve that. I need to be more mindful of the fact that what I go through, affects those around me. Puck is feeling it too. Years of feeling alone are hard to break, but I need to. So, we are going to this concert. We deserve it. It will be a good time to step back, breathe, and do something completely selfish for once. It will be good. I will be good. It will all be ok.