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Forced Silence & Seeking Support

This will read like a rant from the pity party parade. It’s written with frustration for those like me who suffer from and/or care for those suffering from mental illnesses. I’m in tears right now as I write this. I’m spiraling into the anxiety of the situation I am currently in. The truth is most people will never understand. This won’t be a plea for support and understanding. This will be another issue that is swept under the rug by the society who forces us to stay silent. It won’t be shared across the world or spark the social change that needs to happen or stomp out the stigma surrounding seeking help for mental illness. I will be labeled, criticized, judged, and scrutinized for how I choose to raise my threefold and for how I mom mental illness while managing my own from those that have no clue how real the struggles are. Yet still, I feel like I am obligated to speak up. If not for myself, then for my threefold, because at the end of the day I’m the one left advocating and fighting for them. Even when no one else will.

I’m in tears, not because I feel sorry for myself and feel the need to place blame. I’m crying because I know how hard this road is. It’s not a road I would wish on anyone. Yet, it’s my reality and the reality of my threefold. I have just admitted my youngest daughter to an inpatient acute psychiatric facility. We walk down this road of life with mental illness weighing us down. I am too familiar with the inpatient stays, the safety plans, the medication management, the highs and the lows of bipolar. This isn’t my first rodeo with admitting a child or myself to a psychiatric facility. We’ve been here before. We’ve battled the suicidal ideation and self harm demons before. It wasn’t that long ago. It’s not a fun ride on the bipolar express. I’m not going to sugarcoat the truth and paint pretty, positivity filled pictures with sunshine and rainbows about overcoming the obstacles. The obstacles we face are ominous, over whelming and either over criticized or completely overlooked by the society that surrounds us. Ignoring and judging is not helping anyone, it is silencing our voices, while the screams inside our head are so deafening. The stigma is real. It’s a social injustice. I don’t say that lightly.

I am a single mom. I have three girls that I lovingly and sarcastically refer to as my threefold. They are me, and then some. They were cursed by my genetics and an illness that was passed down to us from the generations before us. It is what it is. The cards have been dealt and we are forced to play this hand or fold. Folding for my family is not an option. I will fight for us to survive. Even still I would be lying if I didn’t state that my own inner demons are begging to run rampant and it’s taking everything I have to hold it together.

I could sit and pretend that I have it all under control. I could act like I’m the picture of mental health leading my threefold on a ‘live laugh love’ journey through their mental illness struggles. I’m barely holding on right now. My grip is slowly slipping and I’m on the tipping point of an episode. I’m not sure if I’m cut out for this. I feel like I’m failing. I feel like I have very little support to make it through this day, week, month year. I’m silenced, because no one needs my sob story about how hard my struggles are. People have their own problems. I’m just a drop in the bucket of like. No one is going to save us, that’s all on me.

Seeking support seems like a great concept in theory. no one is jumping up and down to be friends with someone who has children in tow 24/7. I can’t go out, mom nights are nonexistent, and my threefold is more important than those things. Yet it’s lonely. When there is no family support nearby, it’s all left to you. You are responsible for every therapy appointment, psychiatric consult, evaluation, treatment team meeting, and every single hospitalization. You don’t get the break from school IEP meetings, teacher conferences, and the carline. Days off surround seeing how many appointments you can squeeze into a single day.

It’s not easy Mommin’ mental illness when everything costs money, especially the treatments required and the medications needed. Therefore I work, hard. Every phone call from schools or hospitals and every appointment means I lose money. When a child goes inpatient it only increases your mental stress because now you’re overloaded and overthinking every path forward. There is no rest. Even when you try it’s futile. You are left tossing and turning with anxiety as you worry about how you are going to do everything. Alone.

My relationships suffer, because not only am I completely wrapped up in my own children’s life, but now I am not a nice nor fun person. I’m angry and I’m emotionally drained. I’m overwhelmed with anxiety and I want to be alone. Until I don’t. Then I am needy. To top it off I don’t want to share my spiral with my family. I don’t want them to see me fall apart. I don’t want the ‘everything will be ok’. I want it to be ok now.

We hide these struggles from outsiders because we are already being ripped apart as if I am being pulled in a million different directions at all times, but right now the last thing I need is society’s stigma ripping me apart too. People don’t see the bravery and strength it takes to seek help. The balancing act required to keep it all from crashing down on you. They instead want to pick apart your past, your flaws, your parenting and your children until they can find a reason to blame for the mess you are in. I know my guide to Mommin’ mental illness why managing my own was just right here…oh wait I didn’t get my copy. Can I borrow yours, judge Judy? That’s what I thought. We don’t need more judgment.

That’s not even close to support that’s shoving the stigma in our face. So we swallow that stigma and suck it up. After all, we can beat ourselves up without having others do it for us. We are black belts when it comes to beating up on ourselves and we can kick ourselves when we are down. No extra help is needed in that department. If you think I don’t cry alone as I try to figure out how I messed up this bad. Then you are mistaken, I’ve been blaming myself relentlessly. Even when I can rationalize the why and the purpose for the pain my guilt still follows me. Pretend I’m the bad guy, it’s ok I play that part of the villain of this story in my own mind over and over. It’s not going to be the first time I’ve been validated by society that my self deprecating thoughts are true.

So why should we even speak up? Why seek support? Why shouldn’t we just fight our invisible enemies solo? This fight, the one that is life or death, needs support to be victorious. this isn’t a singular battle we are fighting. This is a war. Sometimes we are our own worst enemy and we need the support of others to fight for us when we begin fighting against ourselves. It’s not fair. How childish of me to say. It’s not something everyone can handle. It’s not easy to understand. It is a real fight everyday to not give in.

If the options are to lose everything to save one of my threefold or lose one to hold everything together then I know what I’ll choose. I’ll lose everything before I let this invisible enemy win. Even if it means I go down with the darkness myself. I’m not afraid to fight. I’m afraid to fight this in silence alone and fail. I’m not sure what enemies are lurking in the shadows that will darken my doorstep. I refuse to let those enemies take my threefold captive without seeking support and rounding my troops. Until I can find our path forward again, I’ll be here fighting. Fighting for all of us. I will continue to speak up and stomp the stigma surrounding mental illnesses. Failure is not an option.

☮️❤️😊~M

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Don’t Shame Me for Seeking Help

🚩⚠️ Trigger Warning⚠️🚩

This is my Threefold. This is my threefold. That’s the resounding thought in my head as I sit scared out of my mind because # 3 of my threefold {my youngest daughter age 10} is currently alone in a strange bed. She was admitted early yesterday morning to the psychiatric children’s wing. I am beside myself with anxiety. She is only 10. I can’t be with my baby. This is too surreal. This can’t be happening…again. I’m not ready and she is too little. She’s just a child. She is my baby.

If you have been following for a while you’ll recall my post regarding #2 🚩⚠️ My Child is NOT Attention Seeking. My Child is Seeking Help 🚩⚠️ trigger warning ⚠️🚩 {please do not click this link if you are triggered by self harm or content pertaining to suicide.} this post described my experience with admitting #2 of my threefold {my middle daughter, 13} to a crisis intervention center. Here I am again speaking about the same content and a different kid. I am dealing with the same situation. I guess this is just another day in the life of the trauma drama bipolar momma bear. I am Mommin’ mental illness. I’m here to tell you, this job is hard. I’m not prepared or I’m overly prepared. Either way, this is the really hard part about being a mom. Getting help when you start realizing that you are not able to give your own child the help they need. The worst part is watching them suffer through the pain of their mental illness. They are too young to understand what is happening.

#3 has had a really rough time trying to adapt to my divorce. She is the youngest of my girls and was only 8 when I left her dad. She had begun acting out more prior to the separation. She was running away, displaying anger and struggling dealing with the pandemic. Virtual schooling, lack of interaction with peers and isolation only compounded the underlying issues that were left untreated. I’m sure this is true for a lot of children. I attributed many of her symptoms to the ‘Covid Crazy’ diagnosis. {My personal term for what we were all experiencing during the shutdown}

I was wrong. Her grades fell dramatically with virtual school. I left my husband. I couldn’t continue watching my threefold and I suffer from the actions and inactions of my ex. I needed to get out of that toxic cycle and show my threefold another way. Pro tip: don’t marry a narcissist and if you’re already in that relationship…LEAVE.

#3 had no help with school and with untreated ADHD it was nearly impossible to keep her in her room or in the living room with a laptop listening to some teacher talk about things that were of no interest to her. It was torture for all of my threefold, but she was in 2nd grade and lacked any self-discipline. It was obvious she was missing fundamental learning. It wasn’t until later I would realize that her education had been hijacked and her foundation building years of reading, comprehension, writing and math were stolen from her when her education went virtual during 2nd and 3rd grade.

When I left my ex, I sought therapy for my children and I. I was aware that my divorce would have a massive impact on their mental health {no diagnoses for my threefold yet other than #2, who was diagnosed with ODD and ADHD at the time which was untreated} I knew I would also need a sounding board myself to vent my frustrations and work through my personal feelings on leaving that relationship and the implications that decision would have on my threefold. We have maintained that therapy throughout these past couple of years. This led to psychiatric evaluations and medication therapies to help my threefold and I balance out our brain chemistry.

My threefold did deteriorate more post separation, but for reasons that I didn’t expect. I was right. They had needed treatment and therapy earlier, but due to my own untreated mental illness and the psychological abuse we endured, we swept our issues under the rug. They had needed help for years, but we all were too scared to ask for it. We knew how that conversation would end. A dad-diagnosis and more hell to deal with. It wasn’t until I got them help and they were safe to express how they always had felt that the trauma begun to unravel and the symptoms became more prevalent. They had been forcing themselves to cover the mental illness as a way to keep the peace in our unstable lives. I will forever have guilt over not seeking help and leaving sooner.

Currently, #3 is diagnosed as having depression, ADHD and Oppositional Defiance Disorder. I am familiar with the nuances of these diagnoses. I’m sure ODD will change into disruptive mood dysregulation disorder {DMDD} but what I don’t know for sure is if she will be saddled with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder that her sisters and I have been told we suffer from. At her age, that is unlikely even if she is presenting at this age just as #2 did. Same diagnoses and same behaviors. I should’ve known this would happen. I was in denial that all of my threefold would be cursed with my genetics. what I hadn’t prepared for was how difficult it would be to see my threefold spiral into periods of depression that make them feel like they need to hurt or even delete themselves to fix their problems. Life isn’t supposed to be this hard at ten, thirteen or seventeen.

#3 is a spunky girl who loves riding her bike, playing outside, jumping rope, TikTok, martial arts, doing crafts and stitch {from the Disney movie.} She has a hard time with making friends, because she is extremely bossy and territorial. She isn’t scared of a fight. She is pretty aggressive when she is upset and angry. Punching, hitting, kicking, throwing and screaming are her go to behavior when she gets upset. She is destructive when she is angry. These reactions and outbursts are mostly disproportionate to the situation. A simple request for her to go to bed, take medication, clean a mess or her room, and going to school can spiral into a knock down drag out fight from #3. Then after the aggression is the comedown. Tears, guilt, shame and regret mark the feelings from the fallout. It’s hard to parent, but I can only imagine it’s harder for her to understand what is happening inside her brain. She ends up feeling like she is just a bad kid, that this is just how she will always feel, she can’t be helped, and that she would be better off if she was no longer here.

These past couple of years have been quite the ride on the bipolar express. From #2’s struggles for nearly a year to help her get back on recovery road. A lot of issues with #1. More therapy hours than I can count and a million other issues that have come up 2021 was a hell of a ride. I was looking forward to a bit of peace and to be swimming in calmer waters. Instead I’m back to drowning.

I guess because I knew what to expect after the inpatient treatments that #2 underwent that I would be better equipped to handle #3’s admission. It’s strange, but this time it’s worse than before. Before I didn’t know how difficult that road to recovery would be. I didn’t know what I was up against. I was forced to take the uncertainty and roll with it. Sometimes it rolled over me, but I made it. More importantly #2 made it. This time is different.

I am more anxious now knowing what happens when your child goes to inpatient care. I know now that it’s a long and hard process. I know now that quick fixes don’t exist. I know this next week or two will not be the only time we need a higher level of care. I am uniquely familiar with the amount of time and energy that will be needed to make sure we are getting help. More than anything else, I know the toll it will take on my threefold and I as we walk this path again. I know that we could have the domino effect that results in relapse. This all makes me even more scared.

Before you go to judging my child and I let me tell you some facts. ADHD and ODD are marked by impulsive behavior and an inability to regulate emotions properly. My daughter doesn’t need to have ‘her ass beat’ or ‘taught a lesson’. She doesn’t need to be told, nor I that she is ‘a brat’, ‘a terrorist’, ‘spoiled’, or that she is ‘attention seeking’. She is not going to get better by being told how bad she is. I’m not going to parent better because I’m told that I’m screwing it up or how this is my fault. I am perfectly capable of beating myself up, I definitely don’t need the outside help with that.

I am sure there are a million things that I could do differently, but the fact that my child will suffer from mental illness won’t change. Fun fact. My parenting didn’t cause my child to have a mental illness, my genetics did. I’m positive that my actions and reactions can exacerbate her symptoms if I don’t handle it properly. I will be the first to admit that I have mishandled and missed the mark on occasion while mommin’ mental illness. After all, my handbook on the rules of parenting was just as nonexistent as yours.

I have sat patiently and responded with calmness while being screamed at by my own child about how much she hates me and wished I was dead. I’ve been cursed at, kicked, hit at, and had things thrown at me. I’ve questioned my own parenting skills and abilities to manage my threefold’s mental illness. I’ve held my child after her outburst and told her it would be ok as she cried and apologized. I’ve taken tv’s, tablets, social outings, and the millions of other things she enjoys. She doesn’t care. She will tell you herself that those consequences don’t phase her or make her want to try to better. I get notes home from school about behavior and lack of effort. She doesn’t care. She has been in therapy for 18 months but I can’t make her participate or use the skills. It doesn’t work for her. Not when she is emotional and can’t regulate those emotions. She just does, without thoughts of how it will work out later. If you remind her of the consequences she will scream that she doesn’t care. So you can tell me I’m not hard enough on her. What do you do when hard doesn’t work, soft doesn’t work, and suddenly it’s like a ticking time bomb you know could go off at any time and you can’t change it?

I’ve tried everything from attention to ignoring, rewards and consequences, behavior charts, parenting coaches, family sessions and a million other things. I’m not sitting back just hoping this phase of life is just that, a phase. I need to find a solution but I need help. I can admit that. I can see this is beyond my own abilities. I don’t offer the help she needs. It’s time for drastic measures. Even if that wasn’t what I wanted to admit. Even if I tried amongst the recommended higher level of care. I just didn’t want this for her, not this young.

For those that are thinking I couldn’t handle my child and dropped her off at a facility to allow someone else to fix this problem for me. Think again. I was told she would need to be assessed before she could return to school after she had an outburst in class because she was frustrated with feelings of not doing an assignment correctly. It wasn’t by choice that I was in that same waiting room with #3 as I had been with #2 only 15 months prior shortly after this whole journey began. It was not my intention to to have my daughter admitted for defiant behaviors followed by suicidal ideation. Mental illness doesn’t discriminate based on age, it only presents differently. I knew she needed help, but I didn’t expect that they would be admitting her to the children’s unit of the psychiatric facility that my middle daughter had been a patient of during her first admission.

This battle of bedtime, cleaning up messes and reasons I couldn’t understand that seemed like nothing at all, resulted in these explosive outbursts. The behaviors have been increasing since she was 8. What once happened only a couple times per year has now been a couple of times per week for months. I didn’t throw my hands up and decide I couldn’t deal with her behavior anymore. Though believe me I’m not going to lie and say it hadn’t crossed my mind to do this or something else sooner.

I could write for hours and spit statistics at everyone and bore them with the details of the diagnoses from the clinical perspective. I don’t do that not because those facts don’t matter, but because it’s more personal and real than the statistics will give. Instead I share my personal story, the stories of my threefold. I don’t share for sympathy or for attention. I don’t share because I want people to feel sorry for us. I share our lives and our experiences because we have lived in the shadows for too long. I share because the stigma surrounding mental illnesses is that we are weak, lazy, attention seeking, and use our diagnoses as excuses. I share not to make myself or my threefold vulnerable to that type of scrutiny. I share this for the other parents caring for children suffering from mental illness who feel like they are alone in the fight. I share for the people who suffer. The isolation and the hiding our struggles doesn’t make this journey easier. I don’t want to feel like I’m not allowed to seek help for my threefold when they need it because people around me will judge me. There are too many parents who have the shame of this stigma surrounding their lives that their children are suffering silently. That shame will not make us more likely to seek help. I can only hope that sharing our story and struggles can help stomp out the stigma. We can’t keep silencing those that suffer. The stakes of that silence are too high.

Stay positive. We’ve got this ☮️❤️😊~M

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What the Funk?

Yesterday, I posted Funked Up. I have been racking my brain all day, meditating, reading, writing and stimulating my vagus nerve. {it actually helped} I think I’ve determined the culprit, but I’m going to have to see how it plays out. Per usual I decided to put an actionable plan in place. It starts with today.

I decided I don’t want to feel shitty today and I don’t want to feel that way all week again without knowing why. If I spot the why maybe I could fix it. Well I combed over {and probably over analyzed} my major sources of stress. I came up with several.

  • Time Management
  • My threefold
  • Work
  • Relationship
  • Money
  • Divorce

With these in mind I asked myself what I could do, change, or begin to make myself less stressed in these areas. How can I resolve some stress and defunkify my demeanor? I can’t blame everything on everyone else or my past nor present circumstances. If I want something to change then I have to be the one to change it or change my perspective on it. It’s easier said than done.

Time Management: I am chronically late. It’s an issue, it’s become more of an issue most likely because no one makes it an issue. I’ve never been scolded and always just been the running joke at work. My boss is super understanding with me, but if I’m honest, I have to say I take advantage of that. More than I should. Yes, I’m a single {ish} mom on the responsibility front. Yes, I get my threefold to school each day, but I take my time in the morning. I don’t rush because it flusters me. I like to mentally prepare. I want to make sure the morning routine is complete. If it is going to add to my frustration then I should change it.

I also tend to use my time unwisely. I have no dedicated ‘office time’ so I am constantly starting and stopping projects. This leads to disorganization and a lot of moments feeling like I forgot to do something and making mental notes in my head of what I need to do next. Even with writing I procrastinate unless it’s just all flooding to me. It’s not going to write itself!

I don’t spend the quality time with the people I love when I’m wrapped up in writing or work. I’m not present. My mind is on my next goal and accomplishing it. I’m awesome at setting goals, but I haven’t put enough focus on my goals outside of my own growth, professional and creative areas of life. This will change. I’m certain of it.

My Threefold is amazing and they are really good kids {most days} but just like all kids they can irritate me and poke at that bear inside of me. They are funny, but sometimes they don’t see when I am tolerating smart ass remarks because they’re funny and when I get annoyed and it’s time to stop. The oldest two are struggling with their youngest sister. The added arguing and the inconsistency from my end on discipline has made it easier for them to just shrug off my first through tenth request. I hate yelling and I hate punishing but I know that they need the boundaries to be made clear. This is certainly about to change as well.

At Work, I makes BIG goals and take on large lists of responsibilities. If I’m not on my ‘A game’ then it is difficult to manage it. I get irritated when I took it upon myself to do it. I don’t ask for help and I make myself crazy trying to juggle everything. I sell more than 98% of my company nationwide, yet I always want to beat my last big sale. I’m competitive and driven. I am also stubborn and stressed to the max. I love a challenge, but when the challenge gets overloaded with another and another that’s when those turn to feeling burnt out. It’s time I restructure my goals and accept my abilities are that of a normal human, not a superhuman sales god that can manage it all alone.

In my personal relationships, I tend to assume the worst. I’m not as receptive to criticism or advice as I am from people at work. I am quick to become aggravated and defensive if I perceive someone is being condescending or overly critical. I feel I need to explain it and explain it and keep explaining it. When I feel unheard I repeat myself over and over in different ways. I also am quick to shut down and walk away. I want to change that into more positive interactions and stop assuming the worst from those that love me.

Money is my biggest stressor. I put emphasis on it and have this need for financial security {which I don’t have right now} When my money is out of whack, everything is off kilter for me. I’m working on big changes here and I’m ready to see them finally pay off, literally!

Finally, damn divorce court and the dynamics of the divorced relationship. I made some shocking discoveries this week that totally made me realize just how much this person truly wants to see us suffer. I’ve given power back to someone I said I wouldn’t by allowing their actions to control my reactions. With trial looming over me and my overthinking nature I’ve been quite anxious. I’m ready for the final decree after 2 years due to delays and Covid and all the bullshit in between. I’m ready to just feel like if nothing else that part is done. I am so ready for that part of the process. In the meantime I have to remember who I’m dealing with. I also have to remember that it’s my decision who and what I allow to affect my energy and steal my peace. Believe me, HE doesn’t deserve anymore of it!

How am I going to fix 6 major issues and decrease my stress while increasing my productivity? That’s what today has been spent, planning my strategy to debunk the funk. Once it’s completely compiled and ready to put into action then I will debrief you on my debunking the funk debacle! In the mean time stay positive! We’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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New Year…Not so New Me

Happy New Year! I’m late I know, that’s not unusual for me though. I celebrated with the two oldest of my threefold last night, ‘E’, #1’s boyfriend joined us and so did #2’s friend, ex, somebody. It’s complicated. We had a good time. We played radio roulette, ate finger foods, did year end ultimate positives and negatives, and danced. It was fun. We watched the countdown and then we all went to our corners of the house to sleep.

This morning, noon rather, I awoke and expected some sort of relief that the year before was complete. I expected to be full of inspiration and energy. I wasn’t. I was annoyed. I laid thinking of all I had to be grateful for and still I was irritated. I did my normal go outside and wake up in the peace and quiet. Think positive thoughts and wipe the funk out of my eyes. Manifest a great day. No avail.

I checked Facebook and saw the post that I had made a few days ago was getting lots of reactions and shares. Even that didn’t help my growing irritability, the headache I was developing, the tension in my shoulders and neck, or my anxiety. I couldn’t find the root cause. Why was I so edgy?

I did my best to keep to myself as I always do when my mood goes haywire. ‘E’ has been sick so as he slept the day away I worked on my content so I would have some fresh stuff to post this week. I was trying to be productive. Then my head couldn’t take the screen or the light. #1 needed a birthday gift for a party she was attending but with this headache I wasn’t going anywhere. I put her in an Uber and sent her and her boyfriend on their way. After that, I went to bed and tried to sleep away my headache and irritation.

#2 asked to go spend the night with a friend. I haven’t spent a single night, let alone more than a few hours, away from this kid since her discharge in late August. She had a compelling argument. Then again, she always does. I was reluctant and told her I would think about it. It’s been six months since she stayed with a friend. She hasn’t even asked to go stay with anyone. I agreed. It was time to give her some deserved independence and trust. I saw her off and took #1 to her party. Back home for some chill time and some take out.

I meditated before going in and got my mood a little in check. I was trying to be ok. I wanted to feel better and just chill on a child free evening that is a rarity for me. I logged into my work portal and was happy to see 80 hours of vacation time that started today. I was glad to see the few hours I had left from last year had been rolled over, even though that’s not policy. When I clicked a button to check on my year end raise I saw that I received more than the average raise I got at the end of last year. This should have been enough to make me happy, but somehow it only added to the irritation.

My night chilling without kids didn’t last because an argument ensued between’E’ and I. My already edgy irritable demeanor roared to life with the first hint of attitude. That spark grew into anger. I was pissed. Not on edge, not upset, I was full on pissed. I stormed off not even sure where I would go. All I could think was ‘I can’t believe this is how my new year starts!’ Here I was thinking it would be a magical fresh start and a clean slate and instead it’s this.

Where did I go wrong? I rang in the new year. I meditated. I manifested. I sat in gratitude. So why was I in such a shitty mood? Why was my new year starting out on the wrong foot? It wasn’t supposed to be like this! The answer is me. I’m the reason it was so jacked up. I could say it’s because I’m bipolar or that I’m PMS’ing, or the headache, or my neck. Those could all be valid reasons. They can’t excuse my irritation and explosive reaction even if those are true.

Now here I sit reflecting on my day. My first day of a new year. On my piss poor, irritated, and ungrateful attitude. I sat and wallowed in my disappointment with the day and now that disappointment has turned inward. What the hell is wrong with me? I got a raise! I have two weeks plus some paid vacation! My daughter is taking on more independence again. My other is graduating soon. I’ve got a man who won’t budge despite how hard I push him away. I have a home. My threefold and I are safe and healthy. We have so much good in our lives, yet I can’t get out of my own way to just be grateful for it. I have to snap out of it!

I’m the only person that can control my own emotions, attitude, actions, and responses. Only me. Sometimes you just have an off day. Sometimes you can’t see the good because your eyes hurt when you look at the light. Sometimes you’re just being a bitch and need to check yourself. Sometimes we let ourselves be encompassed by a little bit of bad and refuse to let the good in. Sometimes we have to let it blow up so that we can get it together. It’s not ever going to be perfect and neither am I. I won’t allow one bad day define my year. All I can do is move forward. Have a better tomorrow. Do it differently. Be positive. We’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M

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After Christmas Crash

The ‘I’m over it’ face. The one that also tells my threefold to mind their mouths, momma ain’t in a playin mood. 😂

You are on a high during Christmas, I am anyway. My existence is fueled by caffeine, cuss words, the chaotic to-do lists, cookies, and that down home country cooking! Very little sleep, glitter everywhere and presents piled high. Anticipation is teeming throughout the house. You start getting bribes and promises that are only made to pave the way to the present pile. It’s exciting. It’s stressful. It’s worth it.

Then the crash comes promptly on 12/26. The day you thought would be a day where you could bask in your Christmas contentment instead becomes the day you have the Christmas comedown and crash. I’m suddenly drained as I’m no longer running off of the Christmas chaos and the need to tend to every stocking stuffer and the mad rush to finish strong! The fatigue hits like a ton of bricks yet still I try to push through. The wave of emotions of either failure or accomplishment come on strong. Suddenly I feel as if I ran a never-ending marathon for a month, made everything as good as it could be. I checked every list, twice, but somehow I didn’t win the love and appreciation I thought I would.

I’m happy that Defcon Four got everything they asked for {even if it didn’t all arrive in time for the grand finale} and that for the most part everyone seems happy with their newly procured presents. I’m left with the mess, to be a chauffeur as everyone spends their newly obtained fortune by shopping, and to try to recover my own financial security from my over extravagant spending.

The day after comes and I’m left without much of an agenda and too much time to over analyze every misstep along the way. I overthink every single reaction and the many ways I could’ve improved on the process to avoid the mishaps, lower my stress, and made my life easier and their Christmas better. I get a little bitter and self-loathing, which isn’t a good look. I try to isolate to avoid any issues that my edgy, irritability may spark. I fail, with gusto, because I pop off with even the slightest additional negative dilemma that is placed in my way.

‘I’m going to work on it’, I repeat in my head, as I try to make my rational thoughts take root. I meditate and focus on other tasks, but my energy feels off. It’s just the post Christmas crash and I’m unsure what the fix is to this problem. I’m not even sure if it’s common or if this is a bipolar thing. I’d like to excuse it either way, but at the end of the day I know im responsible for my every reaction, response, my attitude and my actions. I just lose sight of those facts. I hope you aren’t experiencing a Christmas crash! If you are or if you aren’t stay positive! You’ve got this! ☮️❤️😊~M