I Literally Can't Even...

I think I have acquired a new boyfriend.

I really have some mixed feelings about it.

We met on OKCupid, and decided to meet fairly quickly. Decent match percentage, I guess, but I guess we were both somewhat lonely.

He's a demon in the sack. Which is good.

He doesn't seem very ambitious though, which is something of a concern...

Love in the slums. At least he's a creative type like me, I guess. Bit arrogant. Bit out there. It's like dating myself, and I'm not sure if I like it.

And of course, I wind up feeling like I'm cheating on my ex.

Considering I've known the guy for four days, I'm starting to think that maybe this is a rebound. Which I'm mostly okay with, but I don't know. I'm not even sure if I'll ever see him again.

And I might be okay with that.

All of this is very out of character for me.

Stop Telling Me I'm Pretty

I've been spending a lot of time on OKCupid lately, in an effort to get over my ex and remind myself that there are good men out there.

Sadly, this hasn't been the most successful of endeavours.

Online dating has left me incredibly jaded.

Seriously gentlemen... Stop calling me pretty. I get that you like the picture I put up. Yes, it is me. But that isn't everyday me, that is my best face. That's what I look like after half an hour of effort with make-up.

That's just the hook. What I want you to notice is my personality. I want you to notice that I write, that I go on adventures, that I'm happy with who I am, despite being a little too fat and sometimes kinda lazy.

You say I'm pretty, and you reduce me to nothing more than a masturbatory aid. And I feel... I feel like I will be rendered obsolete to you the minute you discover that I'm fatter and uglier than I look in my profile picture because I take really good pictures and am kinda good at make-up, even though I tell you that in my summary. Or worse, that I will become obsolete somewhere down the road, when you notice that I begin to sag and wrinkle.

And I don't know that that isn't accurate.

Yes, I'm pretty. Sometimes. And I like to look good, because I like myself. But that is the absolute least thing you could mention as an opener.

Ask me about who I am. Ask me about what I do. But don't tell me I'm pretty. We both already know you think I'm reasonably attractive, else you wouldn't have bothered to message me.

And when you call me pretty, I know that you are either supremely unimaginative, or you are pretty goddamn shallow. And why would an intelligent, self-assured, independent woman like myself want a shallow unimaginative man like yourself?

Did you ever get that far? Did you ever think that maybe you should be trying to prove yourself worthy of me, rather than tossing out a token compliment like a rich nobleman offering a trifle to a beggar in the street?

I am worth more than that.

Don't call me pretty. Don't start with that.

It is NOT what I want to hear. It is not what any of us really want to hear.

What we want to hear is that we are useful. That we are worthy. That we are interesting. That we have value. More value than the same word you'd use to describe a ten cent scrap of lace.

I Think The Universe Is Messing With Me

Been a few days since my last post even though I totally intended to update daily...

However, a sick kid and volunteer work has had me exhausted.

I wouldn't even have the energy to post today, did I not need to put it all somewhere.

Today I did a 14-hour shift. I met a gentleman that is interested in me and is actually somewhat local on OkCupid which I have been browsing to remind myself that there are other decent men out there...

I'm toying with the idea of going on a few dates, (avoiding relationships, I just need to get out) despite my feelings for my ex.

Who decided today was a good day to try having a big conversation to defend his sanity while I was stuck typing on a cell phone in-between trying to get work done. That conversation lasted for three hours and only served to convince me that his sanity is definitely not so present right now.

It has been a very strange day. I would like a strong drink.

Ode to Frank

Oh Frank, you have no idea how guilty I feel for ending your life.

When I go into my bathroom, and I see your corpse, I am reminded of my many failures.

Sorry Frank.

I was not strong enough to set you free like I ought to have. Instead, I suffocated you mercilessly, and left your corpse where it landed.

Now it is there, dried, dessicated, a hollowed-out husk, an object of mockery and self-loathing.

Frank, you didn't deserve death. I'm sorry for whatever sad misfortune led you to seek residence in my mop.

And I'm sorry I haven't given you a proper sea burial yet either. Life has been hectic of late, and while I've tidied the most important areas, the corner where you are enshrined has not been high on my list of priorities.

Perhaps, Frank, wherever you are, you will get this message, and you will forgive me.

Tomorrow I shall bury you properly.

May the lemony goodness infuse your soul.

Peace be with you dear Frank. It's not your fault you were born a spider and were thus my mortal enemy.  

Honour to you, Frank. Honour to you.

Shame on me. 

 

[It's late, my daughter has been a beast all day and I just don't have a good blog post in me, so yeah. That happened. I'm sorry. Let's never speak of this again.]

My Kid Is An Asshole!

My daughter is frustrating me today.

It seems like every five minutes she wants something that only I can provide to ensure her day-to-day existence remains stress-free and entertaining.

It's not that she wants things. That I can handle. It's that she has interrupted me three times since I started trying to write this post, first because she wanted a glass of iced tea, then because she though we should play, and this latest time because she can't get past the first three minutes of her DS game.

And it's always with the whine in her voice.

My kid is an asshole.

As a mother, my job is to make sure she turns into a decent human being. And I'm trying. But most kids are naturally assholes.

Sadly, my kid has gotten the message that she should be entertained 24/7 coming at her continually from a large part of society.

I feel that there are a lot of forces at work in the world that are turning people into total jerks. In my daughter's case, she's largely been raised by her grandmother or the daycare ladies while I was busy trying to bring in enough extra income to keep everyone fed and the whole family financially afloat.

In the daycare my daughter attended, the children are never told no. There is a multitude of activities to keep children busy all day long, and should a child have an issue with another, or grow bored with the activity they are doing, they are simply directed elsewhere.

Now, I'm all for keeping children engaged and involved, but it strikes me as setting a dangerous precedent; a precedent where children do not learn how to control their emotions, or focus their attention on a task that they deem less than scintillating. And in the real world, the world that they will have to grow up and interact in, those skills are essential.

We are raising our children to be ego-centric dickheads. Some of them are already walking around today, and we wonder why they're having zero success when we told them how smart and wonderful they were growing up, only to have them discover that the real world doesn't really give a shit that they were like, really freaking good at making friendship bracelets in 7th grade.

Amateurs. I can make one with like a whole eight strings. And patterns.

Now, being no saint in the "Let's distract the little shits so I can watch my shows" department, I'm not entirely innocent here. I love my electronics. I love how the tablet can occupy my kid when I really need to focus on writing or when I have to make an important phone call. I love how I can sit her down with Lego Star Wars on the DS and it makes car rides pain free. I love how she always wants to use my cell phone to play games when I have it out... Wait, no, I hate that shit. That is my toy.

But electronic babysitters also teach kids that they should be entertained all the time, right from waking up to going to sleep. That isn't the case. There's got to be a healthy balance. Kids need to develop real work ethic, and figure out how to find satisfaction in a job well done, even if it's a job they don't particularly enjoy or find all that fun.

Which is why, after I'd worked for twenty minutes-feeling guilty for yelling at her to figure out the game or put it down the whole time-I told her she would be helping me do the dishes and if we got them all done, we could make rice crispy cake after, but only if she did the dishes without fussing.

And you know what?

...

The little shit loved doing the dishes.

She wasn't supposed to have fun, dammit! She was supposed to learn work ethic!!

I'm not sure if I won today or not, but at least we have rice crispy cake now.

 

HTMHELL

So I intended to post something every day. Even if it was just something that happened during my day that I had to sensationalize. 

This post is barely squeaking under the self-set midnight deadline.

You see, I have spent the majority of my day elbow deep in HTML, all to deliver shiny new social media buttons in the sidebar for the all of four people who are actually read this blog.

But... I succeeded. I used this tutorial:

And it was really easy once I got the hang of it, even when I had to MacGyver a way to adjust my icon sizes.

It may have taken me all day to actually get the hang of it, where it would've taken someone familiar with HTML all of fifteen minutes, but by God, I learned something new today and I'm proud of myself. Both for learning something new, and for not smashing my computer like The Hulk in the process.

Because I sure freaking wanted to. 

What Would Social Justice Warrior Do?

Today I took my kid to the park.

All well and good.

But we get there, and this little boy starts immediately yelling at my daughter and beaconing her to come play. He was very demanding. Told her what to do from the minute we got to the playground.

Now, to be clear.. My daughter doesn't know this kid. I don't know this kid.

For some reason that little shit-head seemed to think he was entitled to make everyone around him his bitch. He's up in there calling on a race to the top of the monkey bars but of course he doesn't yell to race until he's already started running and is half-way there. And then he calls my kid over to whatever he's doing only to lose interest by the time she gets there and demand she go run elsewhere.

I did not like this kid.

And when this kid started to throw sand at my kid, I very nearly came unglued. It'd be one thing if she was a big eight year old like he was, but she's barely six, and small for her age. Not exactly going to let my kid get bullied while I'm right there.

However.

I am as lily white as they come. My daughter is also, so far as I know, even though she looks like she might have some brand of not-Caucasian blood in her somewhere.

And this little boy, this little dick-head of a boy, happened to be black.

Cue uncomfortable dilemma. Do I tell this little black child off like I would any little white child that was doing the same thing?

No. I can't do that. We're not allowed to do that, not in this town, I've been called a racist for less. Only ever by other white people, which seems a bit odd, but still. I do not need to have the reputation of a racist. (I dared to express dislike of someone not of my own colour. This was racist, I guess, because racism in a small town apparently = expressing dislike of any person of obvious minority, even if they are clearly a jerk by any standards.)

Pretty much everyone where I live is like this guy, only dumber. 

Suffice to say, the little black kid got to get away with being a total jerk today, but I bought my daughter some ice cream and have vowed to say something next time if I ever see that little shit act that way again.

And I suppose, if nothing else, my daughter and I both learned a valuable lesson about reality vs. idealism, and the universe probably got a smidge closer to balancing the scales. Some days you're the dog, some days you"re the hydrant, and black people as a whole have had a lot more hydrant days.

Today, that little boy got to be the dog to my white-ass hydrant. And I guess that's just how it is.

At least there was ice cream after.

I Am The "Crazy" Ex-Girlfriend

Dear (Former) Boyfriend,

I'm sorry about the 5000 instant messages. And the 500 word emails.

It's just... We were once so close. I thought I'd marry you.

The future is suddenly even more frightening without you. I thought your love was as steadfast and unshakable as mine. It certainly seemed that way for the better part of a year.

We made each other laugh so often. We had so much fun together.

But now, it's like you've managed to just forget all the good times. And over what? A few minor arguments? The fact that you seemed to think I was in charge of keeping you entertained and engaged?

You say it wasn't as though you didn't give signs that you had doubts, but I think your communication skills are lacking. After all, saying you weren't sure about what you wanted to do about the future is not the same thing as saying you weren't sure you wanted us to have a future.

Nor is looking at rings with me three days before dumping me and saying, "I love you" very indicative of your uncertainty.

I am having a great deal of difficulty believing that you haven't lost your mind yourself. Which isn't to say that I'm claiming my behaviour since the breakup has been particularly rational, but at least I think I have a pretty valid excuse. You ripped the rug right out from under me.

We never yelled at each other. Not even once. Do you know how rare that is? How amazing?

Well. Obviously not, I suppose.

I still love you, you know. Despite how very much I'm hurting. Despite how you've deliberately hurt me in the days since.

The last time I saw your face, I was going through the gate at the airport. You still loved me then, I think. How is it right or fair that you should get to break up with me via instant messenging? That you should not have to see the look on my face every time we speak? That I should be left with my last memory of your face looking heartbroken at seeing me leave?

And you continue to avoid my questions. All I want to know is if there's someone else. If there's some reason you seemed to suddenly decide you no longer love me. If you can make the claim with truth in your eyes. If you really have lost your mind. If you realized that you had never loved me at all, not really, despite acting as though you had...

It's always one of those things. Always. But you can't even say which one.

Don't you understand how worried I am? I'm scared that you are suffering from the grips of genuine mental illness. I'm scared that I'm going to lose you even more than I already have.

You were never very concerned about your hygiene. You had pushed nearly everyone away. Now you've pushed me away. And I don't know what to do. I can't be there for you if you are going through something.

And I would. I love you that much.

I told you that I didn't want to live without you. You seemed to mistake this for suicidal intent. It was not. It was simple truth. I don't want to live without you. I am not going to kill myself. I just don't want to live without you. I will. But I don't want to.

You made me so happy for so long. You walked into my life at my lowest point, and loaned me your strength when I needed it most. You turned what would have been the worst year of my life into the best. And now I'm expected to just forget that?

How could you?

How could you walk into my life and give me happiness and hope? How could you treat my daughter like your own? She still asks about you, and I don't know what to tell her. How do you explain to a little girl that the first man to love and accept her as his own isn't coming back?

I haven't told her anything, because I genuinely don't know if this is you being legitimately insane and there's a chance that you may level out and regret everything and want to come back, or if this is just you suddenly revealing your true asshole of a self and you won't answer me when I ask.

I know I should just give up. I know I should just move on. But my heart screams at me that it loves you, and doing so would be a betrayal of myself.

This isn't my first rodeo. I'm no stranger to heartbreak. I'm usually pretty damn good at picking myself up and moving on. But then, I've usually had some genuine answers from those other instances. I always knew then which of the four options it was.

Moving on, when I know, for me, it's fairly easy. But you won't tell me anything concrete.

So all I can conclude is that the only crazy one here is you. And that tears me apart in a way nothing else can. Because if you're really in the throes of mental illness... I can't do anything but urge you to get help while you're like this, and wait for you to come back to yourself. If you ever do.

And waiting is really difficult, because I still love you as much as I did when you proposed in a Subway restaurant and I loved you enough to say yes, even though it was in a frickin' Subway and we were waiting in line to order a delicious sandwich. And I'm so afraid that I will be waiting forever, unless you give me the answers I need. Unless you can look at me over the webcam (long distance is a bitch) and I can see what your face says that your words don't.

And I don't think that's too much to ask after a year and a half of devoting myself to loving you.

Sincerely,

Your "Crazy" Ex

P.S. If I'm crazy, it's because you made me that way. And yes, I still love you, and yes, I'm pissed off at you for this. You can be angry at people while still loving them, if it's real love. And it is. For better or worse, it is.

Dress For The Job You Want

Writing the last post took a lot out of me.

More than I expected. Barely anyone has read it, which is fine, I don't expect to be an overnight success or anything but if the universe saw fit to grant that I wouldn't be mad but some of that stuff came from a pretty personal place, even if the advice therein is generally impersonal, so publishing it, even on a simple blog, felt like kind of a big deal.

Going over it brought a lot of things to the surface, and I had more trouble with the post than I expected, given that I have been working on that list offline for about three weeks.

So I was having a mild existential crisis over trying to really establish myself as a writer, after all, this is my first really serious attempt at creating, well, seriously, and I was feeling a bit morose at my prospects if I was having issues writing a fairly simple list about how to live well.

But luckily...

I was in the middle of editing the post when I realized I was going to be late to go watch some geriatrics get older so the friend who runs the home (it's a semi-private retirement home) could go do some errands.

Without pausing to think about it, I grabbed my coffee, threw on a coat and ran out the door.

I was about half-way down the block when I got distracted thinking about sub-plot for the book I'm trying to write and stepped in a puddle. It soaked the bottom third of my pant legs, so I rolled those up and continued on my merry way.

I was about half-way there when I realized that I looked ridiculous: 

• There was a flowery mug full of cold coffee in my hand. Not a Go-Cup, a lidless mug. 
• I had on a coat that is as comfortable as it is ugly, which is to say: Very. (It's about four sizes too big, is shapeless, and has the colour scheme of grey Uggs) 
• My pant legs were rolled up to my knees, exposing stubbly legs (It's not that I don't shave, it's that I'm lazy about it)  and the tops of my ankle socks. 

Personally, I think I've got the whole "dressing for success" thing down rather well. I might be somewhat stereotypical of the absent-minded writer, (or possibly a hobo) but I've never felt more like a "real" writer in my life.

I suppose it isn't much, but it's the little things that keep a person going.

44 Things I'm Trying to Remember That I Already Know About Life

Having gone through, or maybe still going through, the absolute worst breakup in the history of ever... (But seriously, it's pretty bad, even most of my most naturally miserable friends agree that this is unusually bad, however, I digress.)

I've complied a list of things to try to help me remember how to be a whole person. One day I may expand it into something more, but for now, here they are as they are, because it would be a shame if I was the only person they benefited.

1.       Take only what you need.

2.       Give only what you won’t miss.

3.       Be as kind and forgiving to yourself as you are to your best friend. If you don’t have one, be the best friend you always wished you had to yourself. 

4.       Always aim to be a better person than you are currently. Who you are can always be improved, and while being yourself is important, try to be the best version. When you succeed at that, try to be even better than before. Grow as a person. It is essential. 

5.       Learn how and when to say no. (When you really do need a weekend at home to recharge your batteries, don't agree to help someone move.)

6.       Learn how and when to say yes. (When you really don't need another weekend staying home and playing video games, offer to help your friend move.)

7.       Remember that your time has value too, and it is more valuable than currency. You can earn more money, but you can't earn more time. 

8.       Work, and learn how to take pride in your accomplishments. Even the small ones. Making your bed in the morning is not meaningless because it feels great to get into a made bed at the end of a long day.

Beautifully folded towels are strangely satisfying.

9.       Play, and learn how to not feel guilty about it. Play like a kid. Aim for free, fun, explorations and discoveries, imagination, and laughter. 

10.   Try to balance these two things so you have the freedom to do both.

11.   Give yourself a break. From work, from play, from feeling bad. It is okay to laugh if you read a funny joke when you are sad, it is not a betrayal of self or of your feelings. And if you mess up, forgive yourself and aim to do better next time. 

12.   Grieving lost people or things is fine, but wallowing is not. It's really not the end of the world, but it's okay to let yourself feel like it is, but only for about three weeks or so. There are so many amazing things to see and do, people to meet, places to go. If your loved one has died, they'd want you to live. If it's the loss of a relationship, well, sometimes that's permanent, but sometimes it isn't, and if you're not in a good place, you'll miss all the opportunities. 

13.   Do what you love. Try to make a living off of it if you're very good at what you love. Give it your all. If it doesn't work out, though, try something else and do what you love in your spare time. (I don't expect to make a living off writing, but I happen to have a lot of spare time right now to devote to trying, so that's exactly what I'm going to do.)

14.   Take some time to exercise your imagination. Read. Write. Watch a movie. Sit and daydream. It's important. Trust me on this one. 

Somewhere out there, this exists. Imagination can take you there. 

15.   Apply your imagination before you make any major decisions. That's why it's important. This is your life. Of course there will be unforeseen circumstances, but there will be less of them if you try to figure out what some of them might be. 

16.   Determine and prepare for the worst possible outcome, as well as the best. What happens will usually fall somewhere in-between. If you are prepared for the worst, you can handle anything minor that might go wrong. Getting stuck on one or the other will hold you back and disappoint you, so don't invest too much time into thinking either is going to happen, but prepare for the worst and hope for the best and your life will often fall into a good place. 

17.   Don’t dwell on the worst-case scenario, prepare for it. Then you don’t need to dwell.

18.   Learn how to manage your money, stick to a budget, and have fun within your budget. Debt is no fun, so try not to get into any more than you really need to or will be able to repay. 

19.   Be grateful for what you have, and set goals to obtain what you want. Instead of playing CoD for the umpteenth time, brush up that resume and apply to jobs for an hour every day if you're not happy with where you're working. Do it before you hit your breaking point. You can still play CoD after that hour if that's your thing. 

20.   Learn something new every day. (I'm learning Dutch on LiveMocha. Would recommend.) 

21.   Be kind to everyone, but don’t spend much time on those who are not kind in return.

22.   Do not assume everyone has the best of intentions for your life, and do not assume they have the worst. Mostly, people are concerned primarily with themselves. They may intentionally or accidentally step on your life to try improving their own. Don't let them. 

23.   Do assume everyone has the best of intentions for their own life, but they might not agree with you on what's best. Or how to get where they need to be. Nobody really wants to be a drug addict. Nobody thinks that's what's going to happen when they take their first hit. Nobody wants to get into bad relationships. But sometimes, they do, and then don't want to acknowledge their own part in it. Sometimes, you have to just let people make their mistakes and learn from it in their own time. 

You know what they say... 

24.   If you’re not able to share something, don’t flaunt it around people who don’t have it. This includes but is not limited to; money, time, and your love life. 

25.   But don’t allow yourself to feel guilty for sharing it with them, even it they want you to feel guilty.

26.   Try not to resent those who have what you do not, especially if they share it with you, but if you do, don’t show it. Use it as motivation to improve your own life. And be grateful for what is shared, because they don't have to. 

27.   Ask for what you want. The worst people can say is no and you won’t have it, just like you won’t have it if you never ask.

28.   Don’t automatically assume people are trying to take advantage of you deliberately. People can’t read minds, are inherently self-centred, and are going to be unaware they are putting you out if you try to hide it. Consideration goes both ways, and you can avoid a lot of conflict if you remember to assert yourself before you get angry.

29.   Be honest. Be honest with yourself most of all. If you don't know how you feel or what you think, take some time to figure that out before you act.

30.   Nobody is perfect, not even you. Forgive them, and forgive yourself, but make sure to ask that they and you do better next time. We all deserve a second chance.

31.   Don’t give anyone outside of your family more than three chances if you have remembered to assert yourself each time.

32.   Give yourself all the chances you need. You're the only one that has to spend all day every day with you. This is the most important relationship with anyone you will ever have, treat it as such. 

Best be good with who you see in one of these. 

33.   Try to be consistent. You cannot blame people for not knowing what you need if you don’t know either.

34.   If you make a mistake, apologize. Apologize to yourself if you need to. 

35.   Give people a chance to cool off when they’re upset. Emotional decisions are rarely good decisions, and if you let people cool off before you force them into any, life will be easier. Do this for yourself too, insofar as you can. 

36.   Respect the boundaries of other people, as you want your boundaries respected. And have some boundaries. If you don't, you will be a doormat, and you will be unhappy. It's fine to be easy-going and accommodating, but it's not fine to do things that hurt yourself so you can preserve who you think you are. 

37.   Recognize that these boundaries may not be the same. Some people are touchy-feely, others are not. Some people think it's just fine to have their friends walk into their homes unannounced, others would really prefer you call and set up an appointment to respect their time. When in doubt, ask. 

Within reason. Not everyone is into BDSM.  

38.   Enforce your boundaries, but only be harsh if you've tried asking nicely and explaining your reasoning already. Most people won't think to ask. 

39.   You need to be harsh to enforce your boundaries if being kind doesn't work. If you can't do that, you can't be happy.

40.   People will gravitate to you if you follow these rules. Not all of them will be good. Some will seek guidance, others will seek to exploit.

41.   Be cautious about how much you offer for the above reasons, but be as generous as you can afford to be. What that means is up to you, but don't short-change yourself so someone else can live like a king while you flounder for their scraps. 

42.   Your boundaries and your body should be treated like they are sacred, by you, and by those close to you. If they can't do that after you've asked, they shouldn't be allowed close. 

43.   There are exceptions to every rule, even this one, and particularly that last one. Forgiveness should be granted to the elderly, small children, animals, and yourself. And sometimes, a strong shot of whiskey will get you through things nothing else can. Just don't do it every day. If it's that bad, see below. 

44.   See a doctor or therapist if something hurts and you and the people around you (or a single shot of whiskey) can’t fix it. This is the exception to the last rule, and the only rule without an exception. Nobody should have to suffer needlessly. 

Home Invasions

Woke up this morning to dripping at 5 a.m. I made sure my buckets were in place and my blankets were not in the cross-fire, and went back to sleep. I then proceeded to sleep in. 

Regardless, I got my daughter ready for her day at school just in time for my mother to come over uninvited and unannounced (again) with a bunch of dresses. I'd planned to have the kid wear a nice ruffled shirt that I got her for her birthday, and some shiny black leggings, along with fancy gold shoes, but... Overruled by a simple sentence. "All the other girls will be in dresses." 

Thanks Mom. Let's make sure my daughter adheres strictly to societal norms, doesn't have any original thoughts, and is given those insecurities about herself and her choices nice and early.

Freaking wonderful.

I didn't make an issue out of it. There are bigger and better things to worry about. Like how the hell I am going to manage to get far far away from my mother so I might have some hope in hell of raising my kid the way I want.

I think the difficult part is that I know my mother means well. She's just a little messed up in the head. Bringing my daughter a butt-ugly dress to wear to her Kindergarten grad is a relatively minor incident in the grand scheme, of course, but the continual undermining is very wearing on me.

Not to mention not being able to feel like my home is the sacred space I want.

Of course, just as I was about to have a bath, Mom comes over with a bunch of plastic plates and food, saying that she'll be feeding my brother and uncle in my home. Again, no consultation.

I would have said fine. But, I guess I just want to be asked. Have the choice to say no. Be respected.

It's a complicated situation. My brother isn't allowed to be in my mother's home by virtue of a restraining order taken out against him by a cop that lives down the street. He did utter some threats as he was being taken in, after all, he is mentally ill and didn't want to go to jail or the psych ward. I forget which time it was. Troubled kid.

Regardless, my mother seems to think that I should be glad to have a mentally ill barely-adult boy coming to my home at all hours because he has "nowhere else to go." If the kid stayed home with his uncle or got a real job, god forbid, this wouldn't be an issue. But her permissive parenting "style" (if you could even call it a cohesive style) has resulted in very negative consequences for us.

I wound up being delayed with the whole "independence" thing, my brother is turning into a spoiled entitled bastard. All things considered, I feel I got the better deal. Maybe he'll get so far as I have one day, if he ever decides that's what he wants, but I don't know.

I have really got to get on getting my driver's license. And enough money for a deposit and first month's rent and a job in the city. Well. I've got to get a job to really hope for that much, but there isn't much available in this small town that I'm qualified and able to do. Arthritis is a real bitch.

I do know that I don't have the means to offer much in the way of guidance and I have my own child to protect.

I lock my doors these days. And I keep my cell phone charged.

Most mentally ill people are non-violent, myself included, and most will never do anything if they're medicated. However, when it does go bad, it goes real bad.

I'm tired and angry and worried. Don't know that I'll even be able to enjoy the kid's grad today, but I will try, and if I don't, I will fake as many smiles for her sake as I need to.

But I just wish I could go back to bed, lock my doors, and not have to exist in this balancing act trying to keep everybody happy. And, I mean, I'd try to throw a tantrum and start a feud and keep them away that way, but it doesn't work. At best, it buys me a few days of peace until the inevitable knocking.

Blast. I'm so upset I've got the hiccups. 

Visit the website there, it's pretty darn good!

I think distance is the only thing that is going to solve this one, and it will be a while before I've got the means to put that distance in place. 

The Roof is Leaking!

You might think the post title a pun based on the blog title, but I live in a tiny house, and the roof really is leaking.

Funnily enough, it's an appropriate representation of my entire life right now though.

As an introduction:

I find myself at a cross-roads.

Certain health troubles have me currently unemployed and living on social assistance. I've recently gotten out of a long-term, long-distance relationship and there are residual feelings and issues to work out. I'm in the process of finally going for child support for my daughter, six years since I got out of the abusive relationship with her father. (He hasn't tried to maintain any contact with her, though he messages me once in a blue moon trying to hook up.)

I don't even know

I come from a dysfunctional family, my mother is also a single mother. She can be difficult to deal with, not least because she has narcissistic tendencies and probably stopped maturing emotionally at about the age of thirteen, though I've finally gotten to a point within my own life where I can deal with that a little easier. I have a full brother who is nearly a decade younger than myself. He's now an adult as well, though barely, and he's had some run-ins with the law, and was sexually abused by an older boy as a child. My father has never really been involved in our lives, save to occasionally drop by unannounced. My mother put up with him for years, partially, I think, out of her extreme fear of being  alone.

As you can probably imagine by this point, I did not come through unscathed.

Mental illness runs rampant throughout both sides of my family. My brother and I both have diagnosed Bipolar. As I'm stable and medicated, I prefer to keep it as much to the sidelines as possible. I'm actually doing quite well with it, though my brother is not yet. My mother probably has Borderline Personality Disorder, but refuses to acknowledge that there's anything wrong with her. This blog may touch on that, but it won't be the sole focus.

Right now, things in my own life are fairly hectic. I'm trying to find some real focus in my life. And despite the roofer having shown up and gone since I started this blog and post, the roof is still leaking... But I'm in the process of getting it fixed. Same with my life.

Tomorrow is a new day. Today, I've cleaned house, dealt with an unexpected visit from my mother, played with my daughter, made some extremely cheap meals to stretch the money we get, got an IM from my ex, and have started this blog.

Perhaps it's not much, but it's something. And maybe, in time, it will become something bigger. But I have no idea what yet. Hopefully something better than this crap. Not sure if I'm talking about the blog or my life any more.

So it goes. Welcome to my blog. Welcome to my life. I hope we'll find it useful, entertaining, or at least distracting from whatever troubles us.