Suicide Watch 2011

Excuse me while I drama queen it up. Because mental illness is just my excuse. Obviously.

I have myself on personal suicide watch. I know. Call the doctor. What the fuck is she going to do anyway? I don't intend to tell anyone around me either because it's pointless to do so. I just can't hack the stress anymore. Duh.

This whole year has been leading up to me going in just such a direction.

Getting out the Army.

No babies.

Living with my mom.

Now thousands in possible truck repairs a month before moving; which means selling our car and that doesn't even cover our costs. We need two cars.

Not knowing if we'll have an advance before we leave.

Losing my health insurance and medication.

My marriage slowly going to shit.

My husband telling me to get over it and stop being negative. And the new, "I don't want to hear it, so don't say anything.". That one stung a tiny bit.

I'm a mess folks. I want nothing more then to be done. I don't want a part in any of this life. I don't want to try anymore to find some fucking light at the end of the tunnel. You find some silver lining in this bullshit. There isn't one. There hasn't been one.

Do I have to be the goddamn loser at every corner? I get it. I'm a horrible fucking person or something. Karma bites people in the ass. Can karma just leave me the fuck alone now? Please?

I am holding back from just openly sobbing. I'll probably have to go hide in the bathroom to compose myself when he gets home for lunch. Of everyone, he's likely to be the least inclined to want to deal with me anyway. Me and my bitching and whining and making things seem worse then they are.

Damn me and my bipolar. How fucking dare I say anything. Shut my fucking mouth already. (He did not say those things; maybe he's thinking them.) If only he knew what solution I wanted to use to make that happen.

Anyone want five minutes in my head? Anyone? Me either. I don't want any more minutes in my head. I'm sick of the self-inflicted pain and suffering and torture.

And I am hating myself so much right now because my babies are at school. But I sit here reminding myself how good their lives would be if I wasn't always the fuck up. They could have it all folks. Instead, they have me.

I'll still be here tomorrow. No gun equals life. I don't have pills that will kill me; I don't think. No point in just making myself an inpatient psych case after getting my stomach pumped. I can't get a car parked in the garage. And I'd pass out long before I could ever get myself cut enough to bleed out. Nope, haven't been thinking about this at all.

I'm not asking you for help folks. I'm just telling you what it is. This isn't a good-bye. I just wish it was.

Oh ghetto truck....

I know that our truck dislikes us.  You would think it would be thrilled to have my husband worship and adore it like a small boy with his first Matchbox car, but apparently not.

 

We had a group over for a BBQ last night and it was randomly decided we'd all head out to a strip club.  Yes, a strip club.   Hush your mouth.  I happen to like going.  Just to watch.  And obviously I don't feel objectified and schtuff like that.  So, we decided to go to the strip club in a big group.  As the only female, I was mostly volunteered to keep the guys in line and be the designated driver.  Which was fine with me on all accounts.  Everyone did whatever they needed to do to get ready.  People were even scurrying around to help us clean up from the BBQ.  And ONE of the guys volunteered to stay here with the kids.  He wanted to play Playstation.  Haha!  He's also on crutches, so I don't really blame him.

 

It was decided we'd take ghetto truck.  Since I was driving.  And since we ended up with six people.  One sitting illegally in the back end since we still don't have any seating installed.  Don't bother telling me he shouldn't have been there because trust me, I know.  I drove anyway.  And no.  This was not a somewhat intoxicated decision on my part.

 

Things were perfectly fine until in the middle of the worst road we could possibly have to drive on to get to the strip club, the speedometer went out again.  So, I'm driving.  Of course.  Stupid truck.  Shaun grabs one of those contraptions that reads for codes that point to issues.  He has to reach between my legs to where my left leg is to plug this thing in.  Which he insists on doing while I'm driving.  More brillancy.  This after they made me pull over because they couldn't go to the bathroom before we left.  It was like having a truck full of toddlers.  Anyway...  This orange contraption thing also tells you how fast you are going.  And I must be pretty damn good because even with him reaching around trying to plug this thing in, I was within 2 MPH of the speed limit without the speedometer.  In the dark.  And no swerving.  So yeah.  Score one for knowing how to drive with children in the car.  Even the tall kind.

 

We were headed to El Paso.  Which is maybe apparent to someone who has read for awhile.  And as we got on to the interstate in El Paso the truck just started acting weird.  Maybe it had been acting weird the whole time, but we'd been enjoying our trip down so much it was possible we hadn't really paid enough attention.  Anyway, I'm on the interstate, center lane and suddenly the truck is doing something like shifting, but throwing itself into high RPM's which aren't registering.  Because when the speedometer goes (remember we don't have this at this point in our trip) we also lose the RPM gauge.  So it's revving or shifting.  And then TRANSMISSION HOT is flashing at me.  NICE.  All the guys at once are like shouting directions.  If they'd just let me be, I'm pretty sure I could have gotten myself pulled over, out of cruise and in to neutral, but they had me all flustered out.  Four backseat drivers.  All mechanics.  Ack.

 

Since we were on the interstate it wasn't easy to see anything.  So it sat for a few and we wondered if starting it would help because honestly ghetto truck has more quirks and stupid things going on with it then any vehicle I've ever owned.  Get it moving again and can't even accelorate properly.  On the interstate.  In the far left lane.  Why they wouldn't let me get over to the right originally I'll never know.  With windows that are tinted too dark for me to see shit.  So I have two, maybe three, of the guys telling me when I can move over.  Then I have to put it in neutral, with hazards, and coast down the first exit to the access road I can find.  *sigh*  I should mention that I'm still drivng because everyone had been drinking before we left our house.  I'm the unfortunate obvious choice.

 

We sit in this parking lot for a bit and the guys check for leaks and fluid levels.  Nothing.  The device we have doesn't read any error codes through the trucks computer system.  We've got nada.  We sit for 30 minutes.  Try again.  My husband took the wheel this time.  We get through a stop light 75 yards down and have to pull in to the next lot.  We're done.  Ghetto truck is done.  We obviously can't get it home.  It's a parked bitch.  Lovely.

 

At this point?  It's roughly 11PM.  A few want to leave it sit and hop a cab.  Hope for the best at bar close.  But we don't do that.  They call around and one of the sgts is willing to drive down and pick us up.  Fab.  So we sit.  And sit.  And sit.  And get permission to leave the truck sit in this restaurant parking lot.  Which they are attributing to the manager scoping me out and liking what he saw.  Which I call bullshit because I was right there and didn't notice him do any such thing.  Regardless...  This sgt?  He took the LONG way.  The LONG way.  And he stopped at every Valero gas station he saw to see if that was the one we were at.  About 2:30AM?  Yeah.  Him, his wife and a friend of theirs show up with two cars.  Don't forget there are SIX of us.  And we get a ride home.  Leaving the ever fabulous ghetto truck to fend for itself in big old El Paso.  And we arrived home about when we would have if we'd actually had any fun.  3:30AM.

 

The husband and one of the guys we were with are currently in El Paso.  Provided no one decided they liked our rims, or our sound system, they should be in the very slow process of towing it back.  So good to have friends who have trucks capable of towing our big ass truck.  Even Penske doesn't rent tow dollies wide enough to load it up.  And for now we at least have a secondary car for Shaun to go back and forth to work.  But.  Depending on cost for repairs.  We might have to sell the car.  Yes SELL the car.  To FIX the truck.  So ridiculous.  But the car is paid in full.  The truck has a loan on it.  *sigh*  The only other thing we could possibly sell is the sound system.  Installed, the previous owner spent about $2000 on it.  But still.  *sigh*

 

Folks, we can't win for losing.  I think even we saved money we'd ever have any.  We've never even been given a chance to get ahead.

Maybe one more day.

I called again for a doc appointment at our clinic here. And the best they could offer was Monday morning. If I'd called a civilian doctor with my symptoms, I'd have been seen today. Ugh. You can't tell me that a fever, sore throat, pain and clogging in the ears, cough, chills and sweats don't warrant an appointment. Seriously. So post urgent care appears to be my only option. And given the annoyance they put out at having to work, I'm waiting a day or two yet. I just need to be healthy enough for Halloween.

I start packing on the 1st. Or as soon as I buy some boxes. I know buying boxes is lame, but I want them to be as uniform as possible to maximize space in our U-Haul trailer. The more we take in the trailer, the less the Army can lose. The less I have to worry about that, the better.

And so randomly, I have a love/hate relationship with TLC's What Not to Wear. Style advice and help is great. $5000 in money to update your wardrobe is awesome. Spending $200-$300 for a pair of pants? That's a 'what the ****?!?' thing for me. Maybe I'm just too cheap. But I cringe when I pay $20 on a pair of new jeans. I think that part of the show is sending the wrong message. You don't have to spend $300 to get a well fitted item of clothing.

I've been watching far too much television this week.

Well, the chills are coming back. (It's actually been a few hours since I started writing this.). I suppose I'll take some more meds and get back to watching Bridezillas. I'm classy like that.

Jessa

Alive. Or something like it.

I don't even remember when I last thought to blog. Or even wanted to.

I'm sick. Beyond sick. Throat, ears, chills, fever, body aches. I've got it all. This is my 3rd day on complete outs with my body and I've been feeling off for a week now. Ugh. I could not get in with a doctor right away, so I'm counting on my random stash of antibiotics to do the trick. There was no way I could wait.

Nothing is happening around here that could be considered noteworthy.

This weekend is Halloween and no costumes are ready. We're supposed to be having a party on Saturday night. You would think hosting a Halloween party would mean we had costumes. But we don't. And no money to even pretend to scrape one, much less two, together.

And why is there again no money? Ghetto truck. Ack. Go figure that WE would have a car with no AC and a truck with no heat. Really? So we replaced the tempdor accuator (no clue on the spelling - sorry). And we put some coolant in. Explain to me how my husband can be a mechanic and NOT notice the coolant was low? Oy. So the truck again has heat. And the car still doesn't have AC. We obviously know which vehicle my husband drives, don't we? I'll admit it pisses me off that I drive a car with no AC in 100+ degree weather, but he's so worried about himself having heat in Wisconsin. A horse apiece if you ask me. My car should be fixed too. Hmmph.

So yeah. Nothing noteworthy. But I will try to blog again soon.

Day #3. Part #1. Graduation.

 

Our second day in Texas, and third day of our trip, was just as hectic as the first two.  Once again, we had a 5am wake-up call in Austin.  I didn't mention it in yesterday's post, but on our way to San Antonio the day before we'd sat in wall to wall traffic for 45 minutes behind an accident.  Thus we were late and missed some of the events for the graduation.  Like the Airman run.  So it was our worry that we'd end up missing the actual graduation!
 

Thankfully our travels to San Antonio for the actual graduation were smooth and we made it with time to spare.  We found a fabulous parking spot  Saved up almost three entire rows of seats and welcomed up our family as they trickled in from their various parking spots around Lackland.  It was still kind of cool and we actually had on thin hoodies.  We had to find the shadiest bleachers so we could avoid my mom and her sunshine whining from the day before. When everyone had showed up, we started digging in to the McDonald's breakfast they brought us.  Only to have to put it down and start the stand-up, sit-down of graduation.

 

Graduation is such an amazing thing to witness.  Like I said yesterday, there were 722 graduates.  They had the flag detail.  And the band.  Plus the rest of the guys formed up in their individual flights.  An amazing thing to see all that proud blue on the parade grounds.  Also amazing was the amount of uniform we were proud to be with in the stands.  My uncle is retired Air Force; though he didn't appear in uniform because he'd have to shave his facial hair.  Slacker.  My cousin, a sargeant, was there in uniform representing the Army.  My cousin-I-don't-really-know is dating a major in the Air Force and he was also present in full uniform; which is humorous when walking through crowds of newly graduated Airman.  I got to be there as the active duty military spouse and my aunt put in her 20+ years.  And we were all there as the proud family of a graduate.  My mom getting to be a new military parent.  Basically, we just had a lot of military pride happening and that wasn't even everyone in our family.

 

With everything going on, I really couldn't tell you what happened in what order.  There were a few training MTI's who graduated.  MTI = Military Training Instructor.  The guys who make your life hell in basic.  There were the introductions of the commanders and whatnot along with their spouses.  There was one speech.  Or was it two?  The National Anthem.  The Airman's Creed.  The Air Force song.  I got video of my uncle singing.  Haha!  And they did their march around the parade grounds.  As they went past, I'm pretty sure I got a view of Uncle Choo's Airman friend and so I snapped a few pictures of what I will say was his flight during the parade.

 

Once the formalities were finished, it was again time to play the "Where's Our Airman?" game.  Only this time we really had no clue in what general direction we should be headed.  I do think I found him this second time too.  We converged on him and Airman friend.  Pictures were taken.  Same as the day before.  Only this time the guys were stammering and probably a little freaked out about being in close quarters with a Major.  I don't know that they were quite sure what the protocol was for that.  I don't know that they intended to spend graduation day with one.

 

As things ended on the parade grounds we all headed, or were supposed to head, to the barracks.  Home for the last two months for my brother and his fellow graduates.  My cousin and I, with four children, headed off and arrived there first.  We waited around.  Expecting the others to actually walk straight to the barracks.  As usual, with our family anyway, they had all sort of wandered off in various directions.  Leaving us to be confused, tired and a bit pissed off honestly.  So we decided to search for the barracks alone.  And we ended up there alone.  We didn't quite realize we weren't supposed to be in the barracks without the guys, but no one got in trouble so well just pretend that didn't happen.  Since no one was there, I did get ample time to take some pictures inside to show all the friends and family back home just what it's really like when you are there.  Not exactly the fanciest of quarters.  And once everyone arrived there were more pictures.  Uncle Choo with his sock roll.  Uncle Choo in front of his locker.  And of course, Airman friend with his things.  And with their MTI.  If nothing else, we were very thorough with pictures.

 

At the point when we finished in the barracks we were pretty much finished.  Graduation was really and truly over.  When we got outside the building, the kids watched some of the trainees as they practiced on the pad below the barracks.  And they played with the giant bubblers.  Water fountains to some, I think.   I took a few shots of everything.  Then we had a random Airman outside take two family shots of us in front of the building.

 

And then it was off to explore San Antonio...  But since it's a post in it's own.  We'll leave you hanging right here.

Texas Trip Day #1 and #2

How silly of me to have forgotten that I can blog via email for so many days!  Ugh.  My mind really is going.  Email is much easier than blogger when you are mobile.  For sure!  Now I can share a bit about our trip.

 

Our first day started with a 6am wake-up call.  We needed to get up and get on the road since San Antonio is about a 9 hour drive for us.  We left later then I anticipated, but we were still officially on the road before 8am.  And I figured that was pretty decent all things considered.  We got to the east side of El Paso and it was already time to stop for a bathroom break.  For me.  How pathetic.  Here I was telling the kids we were going to stop as few times as possible and before an hour was even up, I was stopping.  When we got back in to the car, my 'Change Oil' light came on.  Ugh.  I had just changed the oil the day before.  After texting Shaun to ask what I should do, I managed to get the hood open and check the oil TWICE without hurting myself.  I also learned that carrying a roll of paper towel is immensely useful for this type of travel fun.  Everything seemed fine, so it was determined I could ignore that.  And on we went.  For the most part the entire trip was just that, a trip.  We drove.  We stopped at rest stops.  In Kerrville, TX we stopped at Cracker Barrell like we'd done in 2010.  We were actually staying with my aunt and uncle in Austin, TX and we arrived a bit before my mom and other aunt.  So, we waited around for them and played, "Suprise the Grammy".  She was definitely surprised which was great.  I ended up getting the bigger surprise when she gave me a diamond solitaire ring for my 'not quite here yet' birthday.  And then I found out we had to get up at 5am so we'd be to San Antonio in time for the beginning of the festivities for basic graduation and stayed up until midnight anyway.  Of course.

 

Our second day?  OMGBUSY!!!  Driving 700 miles in one day sucks, but I swear it felt like it was the day that would never end!  You get a whole bunch of the females in our family together, throw in a few kids, add the 'long-lost' cousin none of us know, lots of sun, getting up at the crack of dawn and you have a mild recipe for disaster.  Regardless, my brother was the main attraction.  So I was there and I tried to suck it up the best I could.  The kids went and left a message for Uncle Choo on the graduation video being made since I knew my mom was buying one.  I found my brother in his flight after they'd formed up on the road nearby and snapped his picture a few times.  Later finding out that it is really hard not to make faces at your older sister as she bounces around trying to get a good picture of you in said formation.  When you can't move.  Ha!  Score one for big sister.  We also spent a good deal of our time walking back and forth from the bleachers on the pad to the welcome center for bathroom trips and whatever else we realized we had to go there for.

 

Anyway...

 

At some point, all 722 of the trainees that were graduating with my brother, were lined up on the pad being pronounced Airman.  I'm sure you can imagine the hoopla of the crowd!  And once they'd gotten their coins and done the Airman's Creed, it was time to play, "Find Your Airman", in a sea of guys and gals who all basically look the same except for the super tall and super short ones.  I was the one who finally found our Uncle Choo and even though I was there first, I let my mom have the first hug.  Her baby after all.  I know I would want the first hug if I was the mommy.  And then we all hugged him and made a fuss.  And took pictures.  And harrassed the Airman friend of his who actually hung out with our insane family for the rest of the weekend.  That kid will go far if he can manage us!  Hehe.  We took lots of pictures of him too.  Since his dad couldn't make it.  {My mom even ended up purchasing a professional shot of him so his dad would have it.  So yeah.}

 

Once we had Uncle Choo things got more hectic.  The boys needed to go to the BX and get bars so that they'd be able to add ribbons to their uniforms for the actual graduation ceremony the next morning.  And we were all talking over the top of each other.  Already fully annoyed with each other before it was even noon.  We were hungry.  It was hot.  My mom complained endlessly about the sun.  HELLO!  TEXAS!!!!  So after walking to the BX.  And finally walking back from the BX.  It was time to discuss lunch. 

 

Lunch?  Disaster.  My cousin and I, with our children, unintentionally got left behind when we couldn't get in to traffic after the rest of them.  We were headed for the Enlisted Club, but they parked in the Officer Club lot and we knew the guys couln't go in to certain spots.  And even though the buildings are just one, we didn't know where we could/couldn't go.  And for whatever reason, they fully missed a large, obnoxious sign in front of the 'restaurant' they were in.  Ugh.  It was a buffet and by the time I made it through the line.  Twice.  Because Lorelei dropped her entire meal in the buffet line.  {Which I looked at and just walked away from without even finding someone to clean it because I was having a meltdown.}  There were two things I'd eat.  Mashed potatoes and gravy.  One bread roll.  I literally picked at it.  And sat through lunch with my arms crossed and a scowl on my face.  See?  Mood.  My aunt spent the whole rest of the trip asking me if I was okay.

 

Since my brother failed his inspection the night before.  By one point.  Which also cost him honor flight.  By one point.  He had less time then the other guys, but he took that in stride.  And decided to use that time to make sure things were on the up and up in case of another inspection after we dropped him off for the night.  Seriously, he has grown so much in two months!

 

Again...anyway...

 

We went to the mini mall on post.  They weren't allowed to leave Lackland anyway.  And my mom spent an hour looking for an outfit to wear the next day.  And only came home with an Air Force t-shirt.  Which she didn't wear to graduation.  And I don't get how she didn't like the shirts she tried on, but wore the same type of shirt at graduation.  Whatever.  It was a mess.  Again, all of us together.  Insanity.  So Uncle Choo and friend took my phone and Caleb and the boys wandered.  My phone kept wandering off with whatever Airmain we had in our group.  Since none of them had one and I thought they should be able to wander away without us and enjoy some sanity.  They deserved it.  We ended our day at Baskin Robbins.  And Uncle Choo ended up with a waffle cone ice cream the size of his head.  {See picture.}

 

After Baskin Robbins my cousin and I said good-bye to the group so that we could head back to Austin.  BUT...  I saw a sign for The Alamo while we were on our way.  When I said I wanted to see it, she took us to see it.  So we ended up wandering downtown San Antonio.  Saw The Alamo.  Spent a short time at the San Antonio Riverwalk.  Where Caleb had a bloody nose.  And ended up eating dinner out at Rainforest Cafe.  And then we finally went back to Austin. 

 

It was time to get some rest for Day #3.  Graduation!!

Home Sweet New Mexico.

We made it home safe and sound.  Now I get the pleasure of unpacking.

Unfortunately, I came home without an iPod.  And without a computer.  So blogging is going to be sparse for awhile.  I'm sort of reduced to only using my Kindle.  Basically I don' get to do much online.  I also lost access to all my passwords, so I'm out of luck for certain sites.

As soon as I can I will return with photos from our trip, but for now you'll have to suffer through short Kindle posts.

Two car accidents later.

It was another early day for us here in the beautiful state of Texas.  My brother officially, officially graduated basic training at Lackland AFB today.  Basically, it was another super long day and even though I haven't had a chance to talk about the trip at all, we've all been getting on each others nerves and we're tired.  So, you know, quality dysfunctional family time.

Anyway...

As we were driving around on Lackland after we'd seen my brother's digs of the last 2 months, my cousin got rear ended.  More like nudged.  It was enough that she felt it and we all had to get out and look to see.  No damage, but I think Mr. Stripey Pants Air Force was a tad embarrassed.  If you don't want to hit a persons car, do not try to stop 1/2 inch away from it at a stop sign.

And then....

As we were leaving downtown San Antonio around 6pm tonight to make the trip back to Austin with our four kids, we got into an actual accident just as we merged on to the freeway.   Only us!  I'll just put it in pictures...

This...

Was ripped off the top left side of this, as the semi it was loaded on to went under an overpass...

Causing us to get hit by said flying chunk of blue metal that we promptly then proceeded to drive over the top of...

After all of this, the battery in said car died.  It was towed.  It was charged.  There was a gash found in the front left tire, but on the inside where you'd never see it.  And we don't know if the electrical issues my cousin is having are related, but right now she's driving it here with her brother a following behind.

We are all perfectly fine.  And for whatever reason that blue 'box' didn't get the windshield and we didn't actually run it over with any of the tires, it just rolled around under the car before it spit back out into the exit lane; where my uncle retrieved it over an hour later.

And this is how I vacation...

Our Airman!

My baby brother!!!

Can't even tell you how stinkin' proud we are!!!

Way to go Airman Uncle Choo!!

PS:  We are having a blast.  We saw my brother today and got to hang out at Lackland AFB.  Tomorrow is the official graduation from basic.  We've already seen The Alamo and the Riverwalk in downtown San Antonio.  I have a sunburn.  Our feet are tired and we are sleeping like rocks so we can be up at 5am to get where we need to be.  But this trip has been more shades of awesome then I can say.  And we might even make it to Sea World.

Outfit thoughts?

This post would otherwise be titled:

"Can Jessa dress herself?"

I'm not in to modeling and you'll see plenty of pictures of me in this stuff.  Provided you don't all tell me this is the most horrendous pairing of items ever.  So....  I want something that can keep me comfortable in a temperature that my cousin says will be between 60-80 degrees.  Not helpful.  I didn't want to over do it because I want things I'll wear again.  Without further ado....

The stuff I'm planning to wear to my brothers basic training graduation later this week...

Grey 'Mary Jane' flats.  I have never purchased a pair of flats in my life.
These were $14.87 at Walmart.

Me like!  Particularly in pretty much new condition.
Just $6.99 at Goodwill.

Okay, I admit the presentation here is horrible.
You'll have to trust me when I say it looked good on me in the store mirror.
This was $12.00 at Walmart.

Necklace and earrings that I already own.
Lia Sophia a number of years ago.  $$$$ at the time.

The whole outfit.
I only own this pair of dress pants.  And yes, they are WHITE.
I got them at Goodwill a number of years ago and I think they were $7.00.

I do have a pair of gorgeous pair grey/silver heels.  The ones I wore for my wedding reception.  I could wear them instead of the flats.

The silver/grey wedding reception shoes that I <3!

My guess is that I'm not going to be in heels friendly areas.  I'm also not wanting my feet to hurt all day.  And, I think keeping white pants clean is enough of a challenge.  I can rock a set of heels, but I think with everything going on the flats are my better option.  That and I need to justify these flats since you know I sort of just remembered the silver heels in the closet.  Oops.  I think I'm going to bring them just in case I change my mind; the pants are super long.

My hair is going to look like it always does.  I have coordinating make-up shades.  And to finish it off I will be giving myself a French manicure.  Which I can hopefully still do on my own hands like I used to be able to while in cosmetology school.  Six years have passed, so I might be just a tad rusty.

Whatcha think???

Leavin' ... on a ... jet plane.

Our July 2010 trip to San Antonio in ghetto truck.

If you are one of my Twitter friends you might have heard me mention something about my baby brother graduating from basic training?  Yes!?  No?!  Well, my baby brother is graduating from basic training!!  This week!!!!  He'll be a full-fledged member of our United States Air Force by the weekend!!

I've been upset with the idea that it's not at all affordable for me to head out that way.  This is a huge deal.  And I'm closer here then I would be living in Wisconsin which makes it twice as hard to swallow the fiscal impossibility pill.

BUT...

I have this super fabulous cousin.  And I think she loves me for some reason because she has been asking me about this for ages now.  And?  She's putting money in my checking account to get the kids and I to her zip code.  That's right!!  My uncle, her dad, is retired USAF out of Lackland AFB and they stuck to the area because they felt like Texas was their home after so many years.  Plus my cousin went and married a Texas boy.  So...I get to see my Texas family for the third time since we got here!

I can't even tell you how excited I am!  Even after my husband tried to dash my excitement with reminders about how many days of school Lorelei has missed and how Caleb's grades aren't so stellar.  And trust me, I understand and realize those things.  But this is a ONCE IN A LIFETIME thing.  I am so damn proud of my baby brother!  He'd been doing nothing.  In the literal sense.  He thought getting money to drive his friends to concerts so they wouldn't drive home drunk was a full time job.  So, I mean, if you thought he was a loser, I wouldn't even try to correct you.  But he finally found something and from what I've heard this has been pretty damn life changing for him.  And he's rocked it!

To add to the whole chaos of this situation... My mom is flying down to Texas from Wisconsin for the graduation.  Guess who has no clue that her oldest and two grandchildren are going to be in attendance?!?!?  It's going to be one hell of a week for my mom!  The last three people she'll expect to walk in my aunt and uncle's door?  Us.  I hope the jet lag doesn't make her too tired for kids who are ready to smother their Grammy in hugs and kisses.

Anyway, we leave on Wednesday morning.  I'm a bit freaked out.  I woke up with a damn cold sore {thank you dear mother for contracting the herpes virus} right dead center which will not be gone soon enough for all the pictures I expect to be in.  I'm not sure I have anything to wear.  I'm going to have to fake it somehow.  Caleb doesn't own dress clothes and I'm just not in a situation to be able to get him something.  But he's ten.  So whatever.  I have to get an oil change which means an unexpected trip for an oil change tomorrow morning.  I have things to charge and gather and pack.  Have I ever mentioned that I'm not really one to take random seven hundred mile expeditions on short notice?  I will be leaving for San Antonio in just over twenty-four hours and it hasn't even sunk in that I'm going yet.

But...  OMG!!!  I'm going to fucking Texas!

Self-reflection is a bitch.

I think the only thing I've ever really had any long term success at is blogging.  And I don't mean SUCCESS in the manner of making money and a bajillion readers.  No one would pay me for this shit.  It's just been, for me, a success because it is one thing that I have never wanted to give up on.  One thing that I never get bored with.  I've never regretted using my time to do it.  I've always felt happy to blog.  In fact, for someone with anxiety, I sure as hell don't mind telling a crapload of people I'll never meet about some pretty intimate details of my life.

I'm also really successful at Facebook.  Which I don't really think counts as a hobby.  Or as a long term project.  And certainly Mr. Zuckerberg is far more Facebook successful then I, or I'd be running that bitch and it wouldn't suck so bad.  If you spent any time staring over my shoulder, however, you'd think I was training for the Facebook Olympics.  If you ask my husband what I do when I am online, his answer would be Facebook.  Hands down.  He's pretty sure it's the only thing I actually like to do.  And some days that would be an entirely true statement.

You know what the lame thing is?  I don't really know what I like.  I don't know that I have ever really taken the time to find out.  Shouldn't I have done that?  I mean, I know that I do like things.  I like listening to music.  I like to read.  I like to sew and craft.  I adore blogging and Facebook.  Even though Facebook makes me grind my teeth and cost me a dear friend.  I enjoy taking photos.  I like making photo books with those photos.  But mostly, I like to sit in a recliner in my living room and stare out the window while hiding from the world.  And until I figure out what is keeping me here like a deer in the headlights, I don't think I'm ever really going to figure anything out.

Because I'm like a deer in the headlights.  I don't know what I'm doing most of the time.  I don't even really know who I am.  I have no real identity.  At least, that's how I've started to see myself in recent months.  If I look in the mirror, I'm just there.  I don't have a label.  And as much as it's good to not force labels on people, I would like something I could tattoo on my forehead.  Something that would give a person a clue about who I really am without it being WIFE, MOTHER or BIPOLAR.  Because quite honestly, in real life, that's all I got.

Who am I really?  If I was struck by lightening right this very second {which I have not been} and someone had to speak about me at the funeral {which I do not want to have} what could they really say?  Quite honestly, I can't think of anything to say about myself.  Not that I think I should be vain enough to sit down and pen myself a nice eulogy, I'm just thinking out loud here.

And it's not a matter of my mortality.  But it is a matter of being someone.  I don't want to be Steve Jobs or Mother Theresa.  And I don't just mean I want people to think I'm a nice person.  Because for whatever reason, there are plenty of people that still manage to think I am.  I want people to remember me being passionate about something.  Anything really.  And I don't particularly want them to remember that I spent too much time on Facebook writing witty status updates.  And let me tell you, when I want to, I can write one hell of a witty status update.

I think there's a point to all this.  And maybe it's just that I'm sick of being afraid.  And lifeless.  I have no focus.  No goal.  Nothing long term.  And I'm sick of feeling like there is no purpose to my life.  A potentially deadly thought for someone sitting in a depressed state.  {How lovely to be able to recognize something and still be so powerless against it.} Of course, I do have to make sure those small beings I created stay alive on a daily basis.

I don't have a passion for anything.  I don't have something that makes me tick.  I don't have that thing that puts a spark in my eye.  Something that makes me feel refreshed.  Alive.  Important. Vital.  I'm not living life right now.  I'm walking, talking and breathing, but I am most definitely not living.  And I know it.  I just don't know if there is anything I can do about it.  At least not right now.

Self-reflection is such a bitch.

Marriage and depression.

I've been avoiding my mental health a lot lately.  Trying to pretend things are okay when really they aren't.  I don't know why I try to do it.  The depression I'm feeling continues to get worse.  I have my moments during the day when for maybe an entire afternoon I'm in a pretty decent mood, but it easily ends.  It's like being a flickering light.  I flicker in to full brightness and then I flicker out.

This depression is putting a lot of pressure on my marriage right now.  I hate to say it's come to that, but the stress of this year coupled with what I'm now experiencing have really done a number on us.  We're not, like, anywhere near ending things.  Or even just separating.  Heck no!  There aren't any reasons to do something like that.  I know in my mind that this is the depression and not us.  But it's still really, really hard around here right now.  I feel like every moment is a fight within me just to try and not let it drag us down entirely.  To keep it in the forefront of my mind that this is just a temporary moment.  Though I do worry that I'm creating moments we won't recover from.  *sigh*

Right now, for me anyway, the hardest parts are really the things he says.  I know, kind of, that he doesn't mean it the way it sounds inside my depression.  But these things are still really hard to listen to.  And he doesn't get it.  He doesn't know why those things are upsetting to me.  To him these things are just fact.

"Well, you never want sex, so..."

Nope, I don't want sex right now.  And since you never try to get any, why are you complaining?  And I've pretty much said that to him.  I'm not going to jump you.  It's just not happening right now.  I'm not really here.  When I want sex, I will let you know.

"Cheer up."

I hate those two words when put together in a sentence.  If I could, I would.   But I can't, so I don't.  And just because I have one hour in the day when a smile actually comes through the clouds and fog doesn't mean I've magically gotten through this.  Because I haven't.  And I have no idea when I will.  Or how long any sunshine I find might last.

"What's your problem?"

If you don't shut up, it's going to be you!  Perhaps I shouldn't say that, but it's true.  I'm depressed.  Everything and nothing is wrong.  I can't put it in to words.  There's no quantifier.  It is what it is.  As hard as that is to take as an answer.  I don't have one that is better.

"You never want to cuddle."

Nope.  I don't want physical contact much right now.  It bothers me.  Even the kids hugging me sometimes makes me feel squeamish and claustrophobic.  And it's a sad state to be in.  But a passive aggressive conversation with the dogs about it, it's not helping your case.  Sometimes I'll try and curl up with you, but mostly I won't.

And do you know why these things hurt so much?  It's because it feels like I'm being scolded or accused.  I already know what I'm not doing in our relationship.  If he thinks I don't realize the sex draught.  The lack of cuddling.  The few and far between smiles.  He's more mentally incapacitated then I am right now.  And I know how I look on the outside.  Because I know it's mirroring what I'm feeling on the inside.  I haven't had contact with anyone outside this house except cashiers at stores, Facebook, email and blogging.  I'm in hiding.

I think right now the effort I'm putting forth is lost on him.  He can't see the strain I encounter just trying to maintain myself.  How often I wish it wasn't necessary to shower.  Why I just want to throw the dishes away instead of loading the dishwasher.  Why I see him sitting on the couch, but it is too hard to get up from where I am sitting to walk there and sit next to him.  How sometimes that idea is revolting because it would mean close physical contact and I just don't want to be near anyone.  He doesn't know how bad I feel about what this is doing to the physical and emotional sides of our relationship.  I know it's happening.  I can see the train wreck I'm causing.  I've done this one too many times to miss it.

I really hope this all goes away soon.  I need a month of feeling good.  At least a month.  I'd love longer, but I don't expect to get longer.  I don't even expect to get that long.  But I want it.  I need it.  I keep hoping that something will happen to trigger it.  And I had hopes that our anniversary yesterday would do it, but was just as withdrawn as I was before.  So now I'm hoping it will be Halloween activities that snaps me out of it.

The new chapter.

Or maybe this is just an entirely new book.

I can't fully explain it, but my desire for a fresh blogging slate the last few months has been weighing on my mind. When I started blogging under the DoxieNoodle title I was excited.  I really felt like that was the 're-branding' I needed.  I felt an emotional tie to all the words the four years I've spent blogging have brought to my life.  And now?  Now I just feel a sense of closure there.  Like all the reasons I was there just don't make sense any more.

I really did start out as a mommy blogger.  I wasn't doing reviews and giveaways.  But I was blogging, almost solely, about Caleb and Lorelei.  I didn't talk about marriage or divorce.  Both of which occurred.  I didn't discuss bipolar disorder.  Though I found out only months after I started my original blog.  I carried that baggage solely inside.  Choosing to put my focus on remembering just what was going on with my kids.  On any random day.  In fact, I didn't even have any readers.

Recently I realized that I am no longer a mommy blogger.  I sometimes go a week or two without even a mention of things the kids are doing.  I may have even gone longer then that without realizing it.  As they grow, my blog changes.  Maybe not out of necessity, but just because it does.  Blogging about them having math homework certainly isn't as interesting as blogging about the time my daughter, then three, pointed a fake wand at my son and a (former) friend's daughter and shouted, "MAKE LOVE!".  Now that was blog worthy.  But I want to go in new directions now.

I suppose this all sounds like a bit of a big nonsense ramble, but I know what I mean in my head.

In addition to feeling the itch to move.  And the desire to carve out a new, more adult focused, space.  I have a reader I'd like to lose.  His name?  Ex-husband #1.  There are just too many times that I've felt forced to hold my tongue.  As I'm sure you can imagine.  And a new space makes me feel that I can talk more about what it is like to be a divorced parent.  One who is remarried and dealing with an ex-spouse who has also remarried.  Because oh boy has that been a blog worthy experience.  But as I originally started blogging so that he could stay up to date with the kids after our divorce...I couldn't just ask him to stop reading.  And then believe that he had.

And so here is to clean slates.  New spaces.  And hopefully the same friendly faces of the readers I had while writing at DoxieNoodle.  Cheers!

{Did you notice the new name?  I thought it was a bit clever.  Cheeseheads and all.}