Sunday, January 08, 2017

The Son

The Son is now 12.  He has been diagnosed with a condition called selective mutism.  I have fought and fought with this child about going to school.  He shuts down in situations that are unfamiliar or stressful.  His way of dealing with stress is to physically and verbally shut down.  Because of this he became truant at school.  Some days I couldn't get him in the building, other days with the responsibilities that I have, I just didn't try.  Something had to give.

Last year he was on a program called homebound.  An instructor came to the house or the library to meet with him a couple of times a week and he did his assignments.  This year, when I asked for him to go back on that program, the response was "Well, why don't YOU just homeschool him."  Yep they washed their hands of the problem and now it is ONLY my problem.  So, I am homeschooling my son with an online program called Acellus.

The Son does go to counseling every couple of weeks, they talk about nothing.  Counselor says he is doing better. 

I try to get him to talk to me, I try to give him responsibilities, I try to engage him.  The only things he cares about are video gaming and basketball.  His coach calls him a beast, and he is talented at anything digital.

To work on me, I have to get him at a point where he is functioning in situations that are social.  I have to get him to stop relying on The Mama so much.  He is very attached to me.  I think that is partially due to the fact that his Dad is no longer alive.  I know that is a lot my fault, I am very doting after the tragedy that befell our family.  The child witnessed everything and I do overcompensate for that.

December 21,2015:  The evening before J's death.  Son and I were sitting on the couch playing with the Roku, adding channels.  The den is outside of my bedroom and adjacent to back porch.  J is on back porch and acting strange.  I tell J -- you just need to go to bed and tomorrow will be a new day.  He complies-- and lies down.  I go back to couch with the Son.  We stay up for a while, and I can hear J snoring (I now wonder if they were sounds of a death rattle.)  Son and I fall asleep on the couch.

December 22, 2015:  I wake up, go outside with the dogs, come back in -- unload the dryer, fold, and start a new load of laundry.  I go upstairs, start coffee, feed the guinea pigs, just little morning chores.  The coffee is ready and I go into the bedroom to ask J if he would like a cup.  J is cold and unresponsive, I yell trying to wake him, then the Son wakes.  I call 911, then my Daddy, the EMT's, Fire, Police all come.  The Son sees it all, the attempts to revive. His sister arrives, the ambulance takes Daddy away, we follow to hospital -- I go berserk on staff and try to break down door to ER.  He is confirmed dead.  The Son sees and feels it all - to himself, observing, not making a sound.  Yes, I tried to shield him, I kept taking him out of the rooms, he wouldn't leave me.

I will be researching this condition and keeping this blog going with the progress being made with his situation.  He is funny, bright, and I've been told quite handsome.  Standing at 5'4" at 12, he's a big boy, and we need to learn to control our emotions before he becomes too big to handle.   He's a gentle soul, but he's also a troubled soul.  I love him.

Sunday, January 01, 2017

Day One of 2017

Here I go again, going to try to start to journal again.  It's been a while, I have been neglecting me, and I need to get back on track.  Seems the best way for me to do this is to "talk about it."  Since, I don't like to burden folks with my problems, I just write about it.  If someone reads it, then yay.  If someone comments, then eh? Please be constructive.

This first return to posting will seem to be quite whiny, but I've let lots of things just go and I'm disappointed in myself for the way I have allowed things to progress in my life.

So day one, getting it all out there.
  1. J has been dead for over a year, and I miss him dearly.  I have used that as an excuse for "not" doing things for too long.  It is time for me to "suck it up, buttercup."
  2. I have lost 45 pounds since July 4.  Yay me, but I am not done.  How? I haven't had a soda -- only water and coffee, an occasional milk.  I am also completely stressed out.
  3. I have let the finances get out of control again.  I do this when I am depressed, and I also have a very hard time saying NO to anyone that asks for something, especially my kiddos.  My biggest downfall financially is fast food, I get in a funk and don't want to cook, or the dishes need done and I "can't" cook, or time is limited and I don't cook -- so what do we do -- spend $40 a night on junk,cigarettes are another biggie.  Shame on me.
  4. I have allowed my children to walk all over me.  I think I'm compensating for the loss of their father by trying to "give" them whatever they want and by not disciplining enough, and tip-toeing around their feelings to keep them from having stress.  I have tolerated behavior that I would not have tolerated under other circumstances and I am quite angry at myself for my own behavior.  Boundaries have been crossed, respect has been lost, and I have got to regain control and get them back on track in their own lives.
  5. Daddy is miserable, he lost Mom 5 days before I lost J.  We have both been grieving.  He talks about wanting to give up, and this makes me worry.  My siblings aren't in a position to be able to care for him as much as I can, so I am not only taking care of my household but his too.  He wears me out, but I love him to pieces.  Bless his heart.
  6. I have stopped going to church, my faith has faltered, I have not been a good example to my children in this aspect.  Church used to be my fuel to keep me going, now I dread and fear walking in those doors because of the wave of emotions that hit me and the tears.
  7. My house is disgusting, gross, stinky, dirty, cluttered, messy, dusty, grimy, dishes piled high, laundry looming everywhere, it is really just ewwwww.
  8. Things aren't that great at work.  I missed a lot of work healing emotionally.  I needed work as a diversion, but was made to take medical leave, now that I am back I feel as though I am treated like a teenager, my spirit is broken, I feel micromanaged, nitpicked and truly resent the fact that I am treated this way.
  9. I am too nice, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings, thus I allow everyone to walk all over me.  This is not good.  I need to learn to be meaner and learn that my feelings are just as important as those of others.
Hopefully talking about my shortcomings, and discovering that my blessings far outweigh the petty things I see as problems will help me to heal and to grow this year.  I know that I can do better.

Mama died on December 17, 2015 - just a little over a year ago too.  She called me on the phone constantly.  She reminded, she pushed, she nagged, she pushed me, she pushed me hard throughout my life.  I haven't had anyone pushing me for a while now.

Time to pull myself up by my own bootstraps, and get on with life.  I know I CAN do better.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

The End

It has been quite a while since I blogged.  Blogging was extremely cathartic for me.  Therapeutic is an understatement.  But with three kids, an ailing parent, and all of the other excuses that I can think of, it became non-existent in my life.

It has been years, and oh so much has happened.

And tragically, it all has ended.

My husband died on December 22, 2015.  Five days after my mother died.  I jokingly told my brothers and sisters in Christ -- "Be careful what you pray for..."  I have prayed to God to remove the burdens of my life.  Fifteen years married to an addict, over three years of an ailing and dying mother.   In five days, two of my "so called" priorities in life.  Gone.

Grief sucks, it's guilt, it's anger, it's memories, it's stupid little things like "Frosty the Snowman" that make you cry when the line is sang "Don't you cry, I'll be back again some day."  It's a daughter saying, "Mama who will walk me down the aisle?"  It's a daily I DON'T WANT TO!!!  It's panic attacks, it's I want every one to just go away and leave me alone. I just don't want to do anything.

This sounds like a giving up letter, it is not.  It is a get your life back together letter.  I HAVE TO get out of this funk.  I HAVE TO go to work.  I HAVE TO pay attention to three kids that are currently floundering on their own, because Mom has just lost it.  I HAVE to clean the house -- it is GROSS.  I just HAVE TO.

I miss him.  I miss my mom.  I miss me.

The Estranged Enabler is no longer, she is now a widow.  Widowed by his disease.

I have heard that in order for a seed to grow, the seed dies.  The new plant will then grow.  With death comes new life. 

I HAVE TO ... live again.