And I thought 2 weeks ago was bad. Ohhhhhh, fuck no. TODAY took the cake—- the big, horrible FUCK YOU CAKE. I was the most horrible person today to my son and I feel like complete SHIT. COMPLETE SHIT. You know when you’re being a dick and you say one shitty, snide comment and then you just don’t want to stop because you’re so mad???? Well, that’s kinda how it went down today. I mean DOOOOOWN. I turned off my phone all day because I felt so guilty about how I acted.

IF YOU’RE GONNA GO CRAZY, MAKE SURE IT’S FUCKING EEEEARLY AS FUCK

It started early this morning around 5:13am. I found Donnie sleeping on the floor next to my bed—- and then I had to pee. FUCKING GREAT. Because once I pee, Donnie is most likely to wake up and then I’LL HAVE TO WAKE UP. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. And then my 16.5 hour looooooong ass day begins. NOOOOOOO!!!! I just did NOT want to get up at 5:15am! I wanted my extra 45 minutes!!! 6am!!! 6am was the deal! That’s the time I tell Donnie it’s time to get up. Shit, man. I was already livid and Donnie had not woken up yet. And then he did.

Donnie was WIDE awake and he did not want to go back to sleep and he did NOT want to go back in his room to sleep. At first, I was pretty calm. And then…….and THEN……I WAS NOT.

I FUCKING EXPLODED. Like, it was bad. I BANGED my hand on the door and screamed at Donnie, “THEN LET’S GET UP!!!!!!” I was sooooo fucking mad. Donnie was crying. Piper hid in the other bedroom because I was yelling. It was fucking horrible. What a horrible way to wake up and start the day. And it was ALL MY FUCKING FAULT.

IMMATURE MUCH? WHY, YES, PLEASE. I’LL TAKE 14 SCOOPS……AND FUCK YES, LOAD ON THE FUCKING SARCASM SPRINKLES.

I thought 2 weeks ago was bad. OMFG……NOPE. NOPE. AND NOPE. I said some horrible things to Donnie this morning—- like, he would say, “I wanna be your friend.” At first, I ignored him. And then……I became the biggest, most immature dick EVER. I responded with, “I don’t wanna be your friend!!! You’re not my friend!!!” I screamed at him, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” “LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!” I mean, I’m so ashamed of how I treated my son. So ashamed. That’s why I turned off my phone because I felt so ashamed.

And Donnie was crying his eyeballs out and then he got mad. He started kicking and hitting me……he was throwing his lovies at me……he was throwing books…….he was throwing pretty much anything he could find. And then I took a bunch of his stuff and “put it away”, so he couldn’t play with it. OMG…….that pissed him off so much.

I wanted to stop being horrible, but then I didn’t. I felt like it was so unfair that I had to deal with this all on my own. NOBODY to help me. Of course, yes, I guess I could call one of my friends to come over, but I didn’t. I’m still dealing with my face covered in zits from my wacko hormones. I didn’t want to be around anyone—- I’ve been isolating for 2 weeks now.

THE SHIT DONE HIT THE FUCKING FAN

2 weeks of not walking Piper. And now Piper is a bit depressed like me. She’s still hyper, but she’s depressed. Just everything sucks right now. My mood is absolutely horrible and it’s affecting everyone in the house. I feel like I’m traumatizing Donnie because of how horrible I’m acting. Fucking GREAT. NOW what do I do????? How does one recover from this????? How do I make it better with Donnie??????

HOW??????? And that wasn’t all I did. I grabbed Donnie by the arms and shoved him in his room…..and then he tripped and fell down. OMG……I did NOT intend for that to happen!!! I’m a fucking monster!!! I didn’t mean to push him and have him fall down! I told him sorry for that—- that I didn’t mean to shove him in his room and make him fall down. It was just BAD. BAD. BAD. BAD. And then I told Donnie that there’s no way that this day is going to get any better. It’s just going to get WORSE and more horrible. 😳😳😳😳 WTF????? WHO SAYS THAT???

There’s something wrong with me right now. My hormones are wacko and I’m behaving like a monster!!! If you didn’t read my previous post ⬅️, then I’ll clue you in—- I stopped breastfeeding a couple of weeks ago and the shit done hit the fucking fan (meaning, my hormones went fucking cray cray— and they are STILL going fucking crazy). The therapists that I’ve called do not accept my insurance…..actually, they’re all private pay. I have to see someone quick because I cannot go on like this—- feeling like THIS. This is not normal. And don’t fucking chime in and say, “Yeah, it’s not normal. You need help.” Look, asshole, I dare you to write a blog online and post it for all to see—- post all your “uglies”. OK, YEAH. That’s what I thought. So, shut the fuck up.

Yeah, I’m a real fucking delight right now. My face is still breaking out, but it’s not breaking out as badly as it has been over the last 2 weeks. I just feel so fucking ugly. I look like I have “meth face”. I feel so embarrassed and ugly. Thank God masks are a thing because the only public place I go to is my son’s school and I wear a mask there. It covers up most of my huge, red zits…..ugh, but still. I don’t like the word “zit”—- it sounds so gross. And that reminds me of what else I said to Donnie—- because I wanted to write, “I HATE the word zit”, but I didn’t want to write the word “HATE”. I told Donnie that I do not like the weekends AT ALL.

AND IT GETS WORSE (I GET WORSE)….

Ya’ll, what am I going to do???? And then, later I clarified to him that I liked him, I just didn’t like the fact that I have to stay up for 16.5 hours SOLID each day of the weekend—- it’s too much.

And then I locked myself in my bedroom for a few minutes and Donnie was kicking the door and throwing a picture—- I mean, it was horrible. He was following me all over the house and I would go up and down the stairs to get away from him. He was crying hysterically. Like, panic crying and I felt horrible. But then I also thought, “This up and down the stairs is going to hopefully wear him out and he’ll be more likely to take a nap.”

I don’t know how it stopped, but we both calmed down and Donnie thankfully fell asleep on the couch downstairs. He slept for about 3 hours, I think. I fell asleep, too, on the couch with him, but I did NOT sleep soundly—- I had fucking nightmares. GREAT. Even when I sleep it sucks.

MY BIGGEST FEAR….

And I knew I owed it to him to be nice to him for the rest of the day after he woke up. And I was nice to him. “They” (the “experts”) say that doing 3 positive activities with your child following a HORRIBLE event(s) will make things better. AKA: Meaning, that the trauma you caused your child to have will just magically “go away”. Ok, no, I really don’t believe that, but I do believe that if you do more positive activities and treat your kid nicely, the better your kid will “turn out”.

Every time I’m horrible to Donnie, I think, “This is going to be what makes him do drugs and abuse alcohol. I’m traumatizing him for life. I’m fucking him up mentally. There’s no “making it better”.”

My biggest fear is that Donnie will turn to drugs and alcohol when he’s older and die from addiction. I’m TERRIFIED of that happening. How do I prevent that from happening???? I know I cannot control Donnie—- all I can do is love him and give him the best life I can give him. I feel like I’m completely fucking that up. Please, God, don’t let my child die from addiction. I could not handle that. I would kill myself if that happened.

And that’s what I thought about earlier today—- about either drinking or killing myself. I wanted an escape from my current situation. I have no numbing vice—- I don’t smoke….I don’t do anything. The vices that are my escape are my picking habit, eating too much……oh, and shopping. 🛍 I resort to those when shit is really hitting the fan.

THESE THOUGHTS COME OUT ONE WAY OR THE OTHER

I have to get this out about my thoughts of wanting to drink and die. And really, to drink is to die. So, it would be a suicide. No, I do not want to really drink because I know I’ll lose my son. I know I’ll lose everything…..including my life and I do NOT want that to happen. Donnie already lost his dad to addiction, he doesn’t need to lose his mom to addiction, too. Addiction is such as selfish disease—- it really is. How shitty would that be of me to relapse, die and leave Donnie all by himself……an orphan. OMG……just writing that makes me sick to my stomach.

I’m in Donnie’s room right now writing this blog. I came in here because that was the only way that I could get Donnie to come in here tonight. He has not wanted to go back sleeping in his room—- it’s a fight every night to get him to go in there. I think Donnie slept in my bed for no more than 7 days—- but it felt longer….and it totally could have been 2 weeks, but not more than 2 weeks. Ugh…….anyways, tonight Donnie did NOT want to sleep in his room and he started doing the meltdown thing…….and kicking and hitting me. And I told him, “I’m not going to yell or lose my temper. I’m not going to do that again—- that doesn’t feel good.” I needed to do some work tonight, so I said, “Ok, I’ll just work in your room.”

And that did it! I brought my laptop in his room and plopped myself on the floor (where I still am and I’m starting to get a cramp in my right hand because of the awkward position I’m in) and began to work. Donnie immediately calmed down and happily sat next to me. I brought over his pillow and had him lye his head down next to me—- he happily did that, too!!! Wha?????!!!! OMG…..yessssss!!! My child is not screaming!!! Praise Jesus!!!!!!

THERE’S ALWAYS A BIGGER ASSHOLE

Ya’ll, this stage of “MOTHERFUCKING WTF” is just about breaking me…….no, I’m not going to break, but I feel like I’m being tested like a motherfucker. I feel like this is one of the hardest times in my life, but then again, it doesn’t feel like the worst time. I mean, I’m so grateful I have my son…….soooooo fucking grateful and blessed. And if I didn’t have my son, I would be DEAD, no doubt. OK, so there’s THAT. And THAT is huge.

Like, HUGE. I just had to get all this garbage out of my head— I don’t want to carry around this guilt and shame and SOME OTHER MOTHER has got to have been WORSE THAN ME, right???? There’s ALWAYS someone worse than you. There’s ALWAYS a bigger asshole.

To try and manage my wacko hormones myself, I decided to take these leftover birth control pills from 1986. Ok, not really. They’re like 7 years old. I took them for maybe 4 days??? This Monday - Thursday or Friday. I can’t remember. Alls I know is that after I talked with my good friend on Friday (who I HIGHLY RESPECT), I decided to NOT take these birth control pills. I mean, I pushed a human out of my body—- that’s damn miraculous and amazing— I think my hormones will regulate themselves soon enough. I’ll just wait and see. Please God don’t make horns come out of my head!!! 🙏🙏🙏 On Monday, I did schedule an appointment with my gyno for July 22nd— that was the earliest they could see me. So, if I’m still feeling crazy, then I’ll go to that appointment.

Shit, I’ve got to get off this floor. My right hand is about to fall off and my left foot is asleep and my eyeballs are so fucking dry. Donnie is asleep— praise Jesus. I just pray tomorrow goes better. We made a deal today that if we (meaning, DONNIE) wake up around 5am’ish, then we’ll get up—- no meltdowns from me. BUT…..if he wakes up super early…..like 2am, then he agrees to go back to sleep for a few more hours. GOOD TALK. Yeah, we’ll see how that plays out in “real life”. We were watching Daniel the Tiger today and it talked about counting to 4 when you’re mad—- to calm yourself down. Yeah. OK. That totally works.

Ok, my dog has been bopping Donnie’s door for the last 20 minutes— she wants to come in here …….and she probably needs to go pee.

COUGH MUCH???

And it’s Donnie’s dad’s birthday today, July 4th. I’ve been having a TON of anxiety about that. OHHHH……..AND I FORGOT TO MENTION……Donnie has been sick all week (no fever)—- just coughing a bunch and a runny nose…..AND HE’S BEEN EXTRA CRANKY. 😳😳😳 Yeah, so there’s that layer to our little happy cake. It’s just nuts. And now I feel like I have to tell you that I told Donnie how sorry I was for how horrible I was today. And how I told him that he was my friend and that I’m sooo incredibly sorry for everything mean I said to him. And yes, I’m aware “sorry” is incredibly lame. Sorry doesn’t mean shit unless the behavior/action is changed. Well, I fucking said sorry anyways. I hope I haven’t fucked up his mental health. And I hope there are moms out there that have behaved much worse than me. Being depressed and pretty much curled up in a ball in bed for the past 2 weeks is NO FUN AT ALL. DEPRESSION SUCKS.

FEELING ALONE AS FUCK IN “ALL THIS”

And I feel so alone “in all this”—- dealing with parenting when going through hormonal issues. Not alone in the sense of not having people to talk to, but alone in the fact that I don’t have the EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I so badly need—- especially right now. I do not feel like I can talk to my mom about “all this”. When she was here a while back, she saw me lose my temper with Donnie and she COMPLETELY SHUNNED ME. She judged the shit out of me. Like, can she not relate to me AT ALL???? She has never once told me any of her parenting struggles when she raised me and my sister— she just looks at me like I’m crazy. It sucks.

Before, I’d be mad about how “she’s not there for me emotionally”, but now, I’ve learned to not talk to her about “all this stuff”. Yes, I’m sad about not having emotional support from her, but she’s not capable of giving me that kind of support. She RARELY says I’m a good mom. She only says it when I tell her she rarely says it. 😳😳😳 It’s hard for her to give me emotional support. I know she thinks I’m a good mom, but for some reason, she’s not able to verbalize her support. Yes, that’s sad, too. And it’s natural to look to your parents for approval, but I don’t get what I need from her in that sense. It’s easier for her to say, “I’m a hard worker” than it is to say, “You’re a good mom”. My friends give me more of the emotional support I’m looking for, but it’s still not the same. It would be really nice to get that support from my mom. It is what it is.

And my mom does not relate to me about my depression…..even though she fucking has it. I’m treated as though I’m an outcast with some sort of incurable disease. It was only a few days ago when I told her how depressed I’ve been that she sent me a text saying that, “You, me and your sister all have experienced depression……” That was literally the very first time she’s admitted to having any sort of mental health hiccup. I’m VERY open about all my “crazies” and “isms” and I realize that not all people are as comfortable about talking about “that kind of stuff”. Yes, it’s because of the stigma issue and fear of being judged. I fucking GET IT. But FUCK, it would be nice to not be treated like I’m this weirdo with all these “crazies”. I mean, shit…….people struggle with shit…..LET’S FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT!!!

HE WOULD HAVE BEEN 46 TODAY…..

And one more thing……back to Donnie’s dad’s birthday TODAY, July 4th. He would have turned 46 today. My friend texted me this Friday, “YOU’RE A GOOD MAMA.” I soooooo needed to hear that right then because I’ve been feeling like a looney toon. 😟 With Donnie’s dad’s birthday being today, July 4th, I’m having a lot of anxiety. A couple of days ago, I was reading articles about “widowed single moms” and they talked about how others should ask the widowed mom about their deceased partner— and nobody ever asks about Donnie’s dad. Of course, it was “complicated” with Donnie’s dad— and pretty much all my mom/family relates to my son’s dad’s death is my PTSD (from his death). Ugh……of course, it wasn’t until VERY recently have I been able to forgive Donnie’s dad. And I don’t think I’ve fully forgiven him. It’s like Donnie’s dad is REALLY dead because nobody ever talks about him or tells me stories about him. Ugh…….I’m in a mood. BUT……I don’t want to hear stories about him that are going to stress me out and give me anxiety…….because there are A LOT of those kinds of stories floating around. Donnie’s dad was a wild guy and I absolutely LOVED that about him. Donnie’s dad was gorgeous, so smart and the ultimate “bad boy”. I knew from the very start it was going to be crazy, but I didn’t care—- I wanted to be with him from the moment I laid eyes on him. Yeah, it was love at first sight. I need to be reminded of how much I loved my son’s dad. Remembering the good times with his dad feels so good and actually just made me smile. I loved my son’s dad so much and I love my son even MORE. I’m so grateful for my sweet Donnie. Things have GOT to get better for me mentally. Please tell me everything is going to be OK. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 LOVE YA’LL. ❤️