Maybe I'm just a really extra sensitive person. I never thought I was. But I guess I am.
Everything makes me cry.
Is it getting older? Does that make you more sensitive?
Does PMS get worse as the years go by?
It can't always be THE HAT TRICK can it? I hafta get used to this sooner or later right?
Dunno?!
I am extra possessive and protective over my men. Don't mess with me there...
And I am like a raging lunatic to protect my kid.
Nothing has happened. I'm just waiting with my back up. For something, anything to send me reeling into a tizzy...I'm ready to rip someones head off if they look at me the wrong way.
And I'm tense. Extra tense. I've been going back to the chiropractor (God love him) and he's been trying (in vain) to loosen up the gargantuan knot in my spine.
Blogging truly is my therapy and I haven't even been posting regularly. I've been reading a lot of my blogroll and trying to comment but that isn't helping either...Hmmm...Now I know somethings up.
You know, everyone always thinks of J as this easy-going and calm...roll off your back like water off a duck's ass type-o chick...But it's the people who know me (the 3 or 4 of you) that know I keep it all inside. I tense up more and more the more shit I hold inside and I literally explode in one way or another.
Crying, yelling, throwing the remote...But I always do it when I'm alone.
I think I need to explode.
But herein lies the problemo.
I'm never alone.
And I will NOT explode in front of the Girl. Even though I have been extra edgy with her too these days. She is starting to think I may be Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde...
Then I look at the calendar and I realize the calendar reads June 28th...Two more days till July and my three months of mourning is over...for now. I did nothing to remember Mom on the 25th like I thought I wanted to...But I guess I did what my subconscious wanted me to. I did go back to the chiropractor for the first time that day....Was she pushing me to?
Or do I need some serious meds/detox/work out to chill me out again?
Probably.
Thanks for listening.
Showing posts with label PMS. Show all posts
Showing posts with label PMS. Show all posts
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Saturday, January 6, 2007
There's a Place for Everything and Everything in it's Place
When I'm feeling out of control, there's only one thing for me to do. Organize. If I can't get my brain in order, the least I can do is get my actual stuff in order. That coping mechanism has always worked for me and when my crap is out of control, it makes it harder for my head to get in order. It also seems that when my head is messy, so is the stuff. I take comfort in organization.
Over the New Year's weekend, BD left me to my devices for a much needed 'break' and what did I do? I organized toys. I really needed to. For my brain and for my closet's sake. I didn't know it at the time, but I needed to put our stuff (and my brain) in order. I threw out a whole pile of old toys and crap. I put all of the new stuff in bins. Beautiful bins. Bins with labels made on my computer. I wish my brain was in labeled bins. I should have paid more attention to the brain that day. I'm paying for it now.
Organization makes me feel secure. I have always needed to feel secure. My entire life has been a quest for security. Emotional. Financial. Organizational. Security. Years of therapy have taught me that the "inner child Laundress" has lost that security after the passing of my Mom at 17. My "inner child Laundress" is still 17 and will always be 17. Unless I help her grow up. I use organization to help her. It gives her control over something, anything she can get her hands on. Instead of focusing on her head. Which she needs to do more of. But that's hard to do.
It's tough to find that balance between the "17 year old Laundress" and the "Motherless Mother". How do I get them to live together in harmony?
Years ago, as the "outer Laundress" was attempting to become an adult, I organized my life with controlling the amount of food I put in my body and the amount of hours I exercised. A tangible way to harness the real things that were out of control, the grief of losing a Mom. To this day, I have never fully accepted her passing and I can not find a way to get over it. I still obsess over the things I can control in order to reign in the fears that I can't. My body image has suffered for years because of that.
I am angry. I am hurt that my Mom left me so young with the thought that "Moms don't leave" but they in fact do. And I feel like such a liar when I tell Fa that "Mommy always comes back" when deep down in my heart, I know eventually that is not so true. It makes me hurt so deep in my soul that I can not fully enjoy life with my beautiful daughter for fear that I may one day leave her too early. It makes me sad that I can't move past that for the benefit of my daughter. Once again, I have been stunted by my Mother's death.
The grief all seemed at bay until my beautiful baby girl was born. Then, the anger and the fear came rushing back. Uncontrollably. Disastrously. The loneliness and fears returned tenfold and I was once again disabled by grief. When I was without a child, I only had to worry about myself. Now, not only do I fear for my own self-esteem, I fear for F's as well. And I fear that I am crushing hers because mine isn't developed. I also still struggle with control and organization except now it makes me feel helpless. Especially now...it's not so easy to keep organized...that's impossible with a preschooler.
Therein lies the insecurity I have been feeling as of late. And I am angry. Severely angry. Therapy has taught me so much about myself and I still need to learn more. However, feeling anger is real at this moment and I need to sort out that emotion now. I know that anger is an emotion fueled by underlying fears, sadness, anxieties and unresolved issues. Anger, the bitch that she is, is brought on by other deep-rooted emotions. It is not an emotion in itself. It only lives by leeching onto other emotions such as sadness and fear. My anger once again is brought to the surface by stronger feelings that I need to organize in my mind.
My mind, if I could put it in the basement in 12 labeled bins right now would look something like this:
However, my bins are all toppled over by life and the only thing exposed is:
I take notice now how only the top four bins are positive emotions that are overwhelmed by eight negative ones. I need to get my head in balance again. What my mind's labeled bins should be, look something like this:
I notice here that only the last three bins hold room for feelings that I'll never truly abandon. It's just not in my nature. But the top nine bins are overloaded with positive emotions. Something I need to get back into my life.
I would fill those positive bins with the fantastic memories of my Mother and my family. I would overload those bins with the overwhelming joys that I experience with my beautiful girl. I would stuff those bins with the memories my husband and I have made together as a team and as F's parents. I would bombard those bins with more beautiful children to love and cherish and make our family a special unit. But for some reason, I can't get those bins together, let alone open them up to fill them.
I am still that scared, 17 year old girl who is waiting for her Mom to come home from the hospital with an "all clear" from the doctor. Only to have my Dad come home to tell me she didn't make it. I am still that same kid who after years of living without her, still waits for her to come back because "Mommies always come back". And I am angry that she hasn't returned miraculously after all these years to help me cope. That is stunting my parenting skills to the point of immobilization. It makes me angry. Very angry.
Then, I hear BD in the back of my head saying, "When you are ready, you will change things." And he has been right each and every time. I should learn by now that I can trust him with my life and he will make sure that F's Mommy always comes back even if her Mommy doesn't always believe it herself...
What bin should I put that in?
One day?
Over the New Year's weekend, BD left me to my devices for a much needed 'break' and what did I do? I organized toys. I really needed to. For my brain and for my closet's sake. I didn't know it at the time, but I needed to put our stuff (and my brain) in order. I threw out a whole pile of old toys and crap. I put all of the new stuff in bins. Beautiful bins. Bins with labels made on my computer. I wish my brain was in labeled bins. I should have paid more attention to the brain that day. I'm paying for it now.
Organization makes me feel secure. I have always needed to feel secure. My entire life has been a quest for security. Emotional. Financial. Organizational. Security. Years of therapy have taught me that the "inner child Laundress" has lost that security after the passing of my Mom at 17. My "inner child Laundress" is still 17 and will always be 17. Unless I help her grow up. I use organization to help her. It gives her control over something, anything she can get her hands on. Instead of focusing on her head. Which she needs to do more of. But that's hard to do.
It's tough to find that balance between the "17 year old Laundress" and the "Motherless Mother". How do I get them to live together in harmony?
Years ago, as the "outer Laundress" was attempting to become an adult, I organized my life with controlling the amount of food I put in my body and the amount of hours I exercised. A tangible way to harness the real things that were out of control, the grief of losing a Mom. To this day, I have never fully accepted her passing and I can not find a way to get over it. I still obsess over the things I can control in order to reign in the fears that I can't. My body image has suffered for years because of that.
I am angry. I am hurt that my Mom left me so young with the thought that "Moms don't leave" but they in fact do. And I feel like such a liar when I tell Fa that "Mommy always comes back" when deep down in my heart, I know eventually that is not so true. It makes me hurt so deep in my soul that I can not fully enjoy life with my beautiful daughter for fear that I may one day leave her too early. It makes me sad that I can't move past that for the benefit of my daughter. Once again, I have been stunted by my Mother's death.
The grief all seemed at bay until my beautiful baby girl was born. Then, the anger and the fear came rushing back. Uncontrollably. Disastrously. The loneliness and fears returned tenfold and I was once again disabled by grief. When I was without a child, I only had to worry about myself. Now, not only do I fear for my own self-esteem, I fear for F's as well. And I fear that I am crushing hers because mine isn't developed. I also still struggle with control and organization except now it makes me feel helpless. Especially now...it's not so easy to keep organized...that's impossible with a preschooler.
Therein lies the insecurity I have been feeling as of late. And I am angry. Severely angry. Therapy has taught me so much about myself and I still need to learn more. However, feeling anger is real at this moment and I need to sort out that emotion now. I know that anger is an emotion fueled by underlying fears, sadness, anxieties and unresolved issues. Anger, the bitch that she is, is brought on by other deep-rooted emotions. It is not an emotion in itself. It only lives by leeching onto other emotions such as sadness and fear. My anger once again is brought to the surface by stronger feelings that I need to organize in my mind.
My mind, if I could put it in the basement in 12 labeled bins right now would look something like this:
However, my bins are all toppled over by life and the only thing exposed is:
I take notice now how only the top four bins are positive emotions that are overwhelmed by eight negative ones. I need to get my head in balance again. What my mind's labeled bins should be, look something like this:
I notice here that only the last three bins hold room for feelings that I'll never truly abandon. It's just not in my nature. But the top nine bins are overloaded with positive emotions. Something I need to get back into my life.I would fill those positive bins with the fantastic memories of my Mother and my family. I would overload those bins with the overwhelming joys that I experience with my beautiful girl. I would stuff those bins with the memories my husband and I have made together as a team and as F's parents. I would bombard those bins with more beautiful children to love and cherish and make our family a special unit. But for some reason, I can't get those bins together, let alone open them up to fill them.
I am still that scared, 17 year old girl who is waiting for her Mom to come home from the hospital with an "all clear" from the doctor. Only to have my Dad come home to tell me she didn't make it. I am still that same kid who after years of living without her, still waits for her to come back because "Mommies always come back". And I am angry that she hasn't returned miraculously after all these years to help me cope. That is stunting my parenting skills to the point of immobilization. It makes me angry. Very angry.
Then, I hear BD in the back of my head saying, "When you are ready, you will change things." And he has been right each and every time. I should learn by now that I can trust him with my life and he will make sure that F's Mommy always comes back even if her Mommy doesn't always believe it herself...
What bin should I put that in?
One day?Friday, January 5, 2007
P.M.S.
My really special friend Southern Fried Mom sent this to me yesterday to cheer me up. It worked! I wanted to thank her and all of you great friends for taking the time to put a smile on my face when I really needed it. How did I get so lucky?
I still feel like day old dog doodie, but I won't bore you with that now. I'm working on a post that I hope will make me feel better and that I truly understand if you skip...;)
So, without further ado...13 Things PMS Stands For....(If I knew how to do a Thursday Thirteen, I'd wait)
1. Pass My Shotgun
2. Psychotic Mood Shift
3. Perpetual Munching Spree
4. Puffy Mid-Section
5. People Make me Sick
6. Provide Me with Sweets
7. Pardon My Sobbing
8. Pimples May Surface (Damn it, once again a huge zit on my chin!)
9. Pass My Sweat pants
10. Pissy Mood Syndrome
11. Plainly; Men Stink
12. Pack My Stuff
13. Potential Murder Suspect
I still feel like day old dog doodie, but I won't bore you with that now. I'm working on a post that I hope will make me feel better and that I truly understand if you skip...;)
So, without further ado...13 Things PMS Stands For....(If I knew how to do a Thursday Thirteen, I'd wait)
1. Pass My Shotgun
2. Psychotic Mood Shift
3. Perpetual Munching Spree
4. Puffy Mid-Section
5. People Make me Sick
6. Provide Me with Sweets
7. Pardon My Sobbing
8. Pimples May Surface (Damn it, once again a huge zit on my chin!)
9. Pass My Sweat pants
10. Pissy Mood Syndrome
11. Plainly; Men Stink
12. Pack My Stuff
13. Potential Murder Suspect
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Miss Blue*
Let me just start this post off with a disclaimer...I have PMS, I understand if you leave now.
But it did give me some energy to design my new header...like it? I was in a "time out" when I did it.
Ok, with that done. I have to say, I am feeling blue this week.
Maybe its the end of the holidays, the excitement over, a new beginning with nothing to look forward to, missing something or someone...a mixture of it all.
I don't know. I'm just blah. I'm cranky, tired and angry at everything. I even banged into a car with my door on purpose yesterday because the douche bag parked too close to me in the lot. This is something I usually get mad at, I mean really....There were plenty of spaces on either side of the dork and me, but he had to park right next to me, up close and personal, like he was giving me an enema for crap's sake (ha)... but my emotions seem heightened this week and struggling with my daughter to put her in the car seat while I was sandwiched between the car and the douche just got to me good. So I dinged the douche. Nope. It didn't make me feel better. Just more pissed.
I feel like a crappy mother. I feel like I have no patience for anything F does good or bad and I feel guilty as sin. When she's good she's very, very good but when she's bad I want to run away and I question every move I ever made in life. It feels bad. To feel that much anger toward a little girl who is just testing her boundaries. I just have no patience. And she has to take a god damn bath. It's not up to her. But I have no resources to help me in changing her mind. I can't read parenting books, they make me feel worthless, I can't ask anyone...So we fight.
I love her with all my heart and soul but my fuse is blown and I need to regroup. Fast. Or I may teach her that anger (and a lot of yelling) is the way to deal with everything in life...She can already throw a mean tantrum when she wants to and I know it's because she sees me do the same thing with the adult version of what a tantrum is.
I already feel like I have made her uncomfortable in social situations because I am that way exactly. I already feel like I am not exposing her enough to life and the way you should live it fully because I am so stunted as an adult. I already feel that yeah, I look happy on the outside, but inside I am a disaster and I don't want her thinking its her fault. And I don't want her thinking that's normal.
I also know that I do have PMS and while it's not an excuse, it is real and my hormone levels are way low. That really effects my balance. I have been doing so great with genuinely being happy and enjoying life. I know I am lucky and I have a wonderful family and home and husband and daughter...but there's a but. And I don't know what to fill it in with.
Just this weekend, BD gave me the 'day off' and took Fa to his Mom's house for the day. I had the whole house to myself. I had a plan. I organized the entire basement play room. (Fun, I know, but organization makes me shiver with joy!) I was going to go to the gym and the mall...but, he took the extra car's keys (accidentally) so I couldn't leave the house. I was stuck. I was mad. Why? I don't know. I hate feeling stuck. My plans were foiled again...
Then I started to miss F. I look forward to her having fun without me then I can't wait for her to get home to be with me. I feel like I am stunting her growth because I can't allow myself to grow without her. I am too connected. I knowshe we need to have her our own individual life and be independent. I know I need to have my own life. I know therein lies the problemo.
Then I felt them creeping in. The blues. Why is blue the color of sadness anyway? It's such a beautiful color, why is it when you are sad you are blue? The sky is blue, eyes are blue, blue and red make purple...my favorite color. Blue should be a good thing.
Every time I feel this way I fear that it will get as worse as it was before F was born or even scarier, after F was born. I don't ever want to be that low again... and while I usually get out of it fairly quickly on my own (thank you years of therapy), it still haunts me. Especially that ppd.
That creepy, dark blue space that I was once in. The space I fought so hard to get out of because it was so lonely. That blue abyss that I was drowning in with no way out. Thankfully, I was successful. But when I feel this way, I get scared. Scared that I will sink back into it and I don't want that memory to be in F's head about her crazy mother. The one that acted all happy and nice on the outside but inside had a real struggle going on.
I have posted about this feeling previously and got into trouble with 'people' about it so I have to be careful not to sound like a mental patient. But it is my fear and it is how I'm feeling and this is about me and this is a way to sort out my mind and keep it in writing to look back on. For prosperity's sake? I don't know. Sorry if I'm not making any sense.
I just know, I'm feeling blue. Maybe I can find it inside of me and get it out here. Maybe that would make me feel better. Maybe I just have to get out of the house.
*It's a song by Filter
But it did give me some energy to design my new header...like it? I was in a "time out" when I did it.
Ok, with that done. I have to say, I am feeling blue this week.
Maybe its the end of the holidays, the excitement over, a new beginning with nothing to look forward to, missing something or someone...a mixture of it all.
I don't know. I'm just blah. I'm cranky, tired and angry at everything. I even banged into a car with my door on purpose yesterday because the douche bag parked too close to me in the lot. This is something I usually get mad at, I mean really....There were plenty of spaces on either side of the dork and me, but he had to park right next to me, up close and personal, like he was giving me an enema for crap's sake (ha)... but my emotions seem heightened this week and struggling with my daughter to put her in the car seat while I was sandwiched between the car and the douche just got to me good. So I dinged the douche. Nope. It didn't make me feel better. Just more pissed.
I feel like a crappy mother. I feel like I have no patience for anything F does good or bad and I feel guilty as sin. When she's good she's very, very good but when she's bad I want to run away and I question every move I ever made in life. It feels bad. To feel that much anger toward a little girl who is just testing her boundaries. I just have no patience. And she has to take a god damn bath. It's not up to her. But I have no resources to help me in changing her mind. I can't read parenting books, they make me feel worthless, I can't ask anyone...So we fight.
I love her with all my heart and soul but my fuse is blown and I need to regroup. Fast. Or I may teach her that anger (and a lot of yelling) is the way to deal with everything in life...She can already throw a mean tantrum when she wants to and I know it's because she sees me do the same thing with the adult version of what a tantrum is.
I already feel like I have made her uncomfortable in social situations because I am that way exactly. I already feel like I am not exposing her enough to life and the way you should live it fully because I am so stunted as an adult. I already feel that yeah, I look happy on the outside, but inside I am a disaster and I don't want her thinking its her fault. And I don't want her thinking that's normal.
I also know that I do have PMS and while it's not an excuse, it is real and my hormone levels are way low. That really effects my balance. I have been doing so great with genuinely being happy and enjoying life. I know I am lucky and I have a wonderful family and home and husband and daughter...but there's a but. And I don't know what to fill it in with.
Just this weekend, BD gave me the 'day off' and took Fa to his Mom's house for the day. I had the whole house to myself. I had a plan. I organized the entire basement play room. (Fun, I know, but organization makes me shiver with joy!) I was going to go to the gym and the mall...but, he took the extra car's keys (accidentally) so I couldn't leave the house. I was stuck. I was mad. Why? I don't know. I hate feeling stuck. My plans were foiled again...
Then I started to miss F. I look forward to her having fun without me then I can't wait for her to get home to be with me. I feel like I am stunting her growth because I can't allow myself to grow without her. I am too connected. I know
Then I felt them creeping in. The blues. Why is blue the color of sadness anyway? It's such a beautiful color, why is it when you are sad you are blue? The sky is blue, eyes are blue, blue and red make purple...my favorite color. Blue should be a good thing.
Every time I feel this way I fear that it will get as worse as it was before F was born or even scarier, after F was born. I don't ever want to be that low again... and while I usually get out of it fairly quickly on my own (thank you years of therapy), it still haunts me. Especially that ppd.
That creepy, dark blue space that I was once in. The space I fought so hard to get out of because it was so lonely. That blue abyss that I was drowning in with no way out. Thankfully, I was successful. But when I feel this way, I get scared. Scared that I will sink back into it and I don't want that memory to be in F's head about her crazy mother. The one that acted all happy and nice on the outside but inside had a real struggle going on.
I have posted about this feeling previously and got into trouble with 'people' about it so I have to be careful not to sound like a mental patient. But it is my fear and it is how I'm feeling and this is about me and this is a way to sort out my mind and keep it in writing to look back on. For prosperity's sake? I don't know. Sorry if I'm not making any sense.
I just know, I'm feeling blue. Maybe I can find it inside of me and get it out here. Maybe that would make me feel better. Maybe I just have to get out of the house.
*It's a song by Filter
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
This is your brain...with PMS
I lost my bra. Period.
I can't seem to find it. I took it off last night before bed. I can't remember where I put it. Harumph.
I wanted to put it in the hamper. Not there. Not back in my drawer. Not on my end table beside my bed. Not in my bathroom where I took it off in the first place. I just don't know.
This is very strange...but I did do this once, so it's not all that strange if you think about it.
Oh well...good thing I have a few more to lose, um, I mean use.
I can't seem to find it. I took it off last night before bed. I can't remember where I put it. Harumph.
I wanted to put it in the hamper. Not there. Not back in my drawer. Not on my end table beside my bed. Not in my bathroom where I took it off in the first place. I just don't know.
This is very strange...but I did do this once, so it's not all that strange if you think about it.
Oh well...good thing I have a few more to lose, um, I mean use.
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