Dirty laundry

April 29, 2011 § Leave a comment

Remember, “This is your brain, and this is your brain on drugs”?

I’ve got a better one.

And just to add another one, this is your brain on hormones + whiny three year old + blind dog + dirty dishes

So, that’s fun.

To be 100% completely honest, I don’t know how to be completely honest. Because right now I can’t filter out what’s real out of the mess that my brain is.

Another picture?

I’m going with my heart as being what’s true, plus my paint skills are fairly limited. So I can’t filter out the real stuff between the jumbly stuff, and is there a support group for parents with toddlers, because I really need one.

I’ve made some mom friends from daycare, and that’s a life saver. I picked up Lena yesterday with tears in my eyes, and Ann and I stood outside while our daughters played in the bushes, and I said, I just didn’t think I could do this, and Ann said, I think that every day, and she even has a husband. It was nice, just, knowing that someone else is going through this too. The endless repeated statements, the whining, holy hell the whining, and everyone struggles with bedtime these days, and everyone wonders if “being the bad guy” is the right thing, and then sometimes you just need to hear it out loud from someone, but dude, it’s going to be ok, and I honestly think that in this case, in this case, love is enough. Because goddamn, I love this kid, and eventually she’s going to go to bed and stay in bed before 9 PM. FAMOUS LAST WORDS.

Both of our kids pick at their fingernails until they get hangnails to ask for it to be cut off as an excuse to get out of bed. Kids are all more or less the same.

Here’s where I can’t filter what’s real from what’s not. My parents were gone all this week, and I almost didn’t make it. And that’s hard to admit, that I can’t do this on my own. But I don’t know whether that’s just this week, that this week is hard, but it won’t always be like that, it won’t. It can’t be, right?

And I don’t know what’s real and what’s not any more. I wrote a poem the other day and it said,
I went to therapy and learned the difference between depression and bereavement
then I paid myself 70 bucks
and told myself to get over it

And there’s this delicate line between getting over it and acknowledging and indulging it. Because this period of bereavement of being a single mom and having a hard life(tm) is going on a little too long. I think. Or is it. Why isn’t there a handbook that says I’m allowed to X amount of days to get over something X amount of days when I can feel sorry for myself. Or a handbook for dating a single mom, and it says you’re allowed X amount of get out of jail free cards. Because doing all this on my own, this now being, just knowing what’s right and what’s ok, and what’s acceptable, this is too hard. I don’t know what the norm is because there isn’t a norm. I’ve never been a parent before so I don’t know what goes and what doesn’t. I’ve really never been in a “real grown-up relationship” before, so I don’t know when to say know. I don’t know the differences between normal bumps and bruises here and there, and unhealthy.

I’m not so far gone. I can get up in the morning. I can still joke about the royal wedding. Lena is fed and watered and even bathed. I’m a little far gone, because I haven’t been fed, watered, or bathed. Caffeinated though, so, there’s that. :)

There’s two things that I’ve been thinking about a lot. One is this TED talk on poetry. And there’s this line,

There’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean that refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times its sent away.

And then there’s this line, from Chuck Palahnuik, which I like, but I hate that it’s almost an excuse for indulging the pain and the ache and the hurt, but it’s not, really, it’s not.

It’s so hard to forget the pain, but it’s even harder to remember the sweetness. We have no scar to show from happiness. We learn so little from peace.

Is that true? Are we just floating through the good times waiting for shit to hit the fan again? I hope it’s not true. But, you know, I’ll know for next time, when I’m in the peace, and I’ll keep my eyes out and hope to learn something.

So, this hopefully concludes the episode of Rachael being pathetic and insecure and needy. (I hope). Next up, proving to those that I really can do it. Which is really going to be a private, quiet change, I’m learning. Wish me luck.


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