And I need someone to teach me, tell me, show me how not to be bitter any longer! I’m tired of feeling sorry for my son and myself and my boys in general because Jackson was born with so many problems, he’s disabled, they lost their father to drugs, I lived with an alcoholic/drug addict, losing my father, having the person who said he liked me for what and who I was leave me and it not see it as a reflection on me. I need someone to tell me how not to be tired of learning new things about my son, being worried I’m depriving the other son of good attention and yelling and asking too much of him because he’s “typical”. I’m tired of not feeling pretty enough, smart enough, thin enough, strong enough, good enough, there enough, perfect enough.
Maybe one of you could offer me some advice. Maybe I can quit crying at the thought of him and the sound of his name 5 months later. I’m tired of having to kill all the fucking spiders in this house. I’m tired of being scared to answer the door. I want to hear something in the middle of the night and have someone else go check it out. I want someone to hold me and kiss me and tell me everything is going to fucking be alright.
I don’t understand why someone who called you the nicest person he’s ever dated would leave!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t understand why he’d call me a catch and beautiful and then fucking end us over a fucking phone call!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What kind of man does that????????????? A fucking pussy! He slept with me, shared my bed, must have pitied me or USED me! USED ME! To be such an asshole as to tell someone that he hopes you find someone that really loves you. Who does that? I hope he gets his heart broken one day and hard by someone he gave his all to, someone he idolized and respected, I hope one day he learns and feels HALF as bad as he has left me.
I pray my son recovers, stays as happy as he is and always been. I pray nothing changes him. I pray he lives a long, fulfilling life.
I pray Jake knows I love him and envy him with his carefree personality and contagious smile.
I pray my dad knows how much I miss him and how much I loved him and continue to.
I have to stop. I’m all cried out at the moment.
My dad died of a heart attack 13 years ago. He would have been 60 today. I can’t explain the way I’m feeling.
I’m sad because of him. I’m sad for the boys. I can’t figure out why I’m still so hurt after being dumped back in May. I’m stressed and worried because of money and Jackson’s recent diagnosis. I was home yesterday with him because he threw up and was running a fever. We slept most of the day.
I feel alone. I feel mad. I feel betrayed and hurt. I feel used. I feel sick.
I’m still pissed. Because Dad died too young. Because I feel I was being used in my last relationship and he hurt me and I’ve not had closure. I feel ashamed. I feel regretful. I feel I’ve hurt someone’s feelings recently.
I’m just feeling a lot of things today. Too many things.
Jackson’s MRI revealed chiari malformation. His brain is being pushed through an abnormal hole in his skull. HGH is on hold. He sees a neurologist in 2 weeks.
I want my son and I to catch a fucking break. The shit he goes through is ridiculous!!!!!!
I read an interview today with a guy that survived the Las Vegas shooting. He said if he sits in a dark room alone eventually his mind goes back to the day.
I wondered what my life event would be. I’ve been diagnosed with PTSD. Which I feel kind of awful about because I haven’t done anything brave or heroic like fight overseas or witness a life being taken. Only a few close people near me have died. Years ago I would have thought of my dad in that dark room. That would have been my life event. But these I find myself cussing Jeff a lot, the boy’s father who died of an accidental overdose 3 years ago. I find myself looking at the boys and thinking, “Look at what you’re missing. Look what you missed out on.” I wonder how many times I asked him to quit taking pills or the fight, my God the fights, hollow many times I just wanted him present. How selfish could one person be? But then I think about the times I’ve driven drunk. How selfish of me. How foolish and stupid. To risk never seeing these boys again.
So, I got a call today. Jackson’s doctor wants a MRI done to make sure his brain is ok before starting him on the hgh. $600. Out of pocket. Which, it’s for a good cause but I want to know if I’m even going to be able to afford the hgh before spending this money. It’s $398 for every endocrinologist office visit. It was $1000 last month to pay for the hgh test. This second job is just going to pay for medical bills. Screw playing down my debt.
And all of this just to give him a shot every day. Do you know how terrified of needles he is? The starter kit came today. The pen itself, a backpack, a growth chart, the needle disposer container. He thought the backpack and growth chart was cool. I’ve promised him ice cream after every successful shot. I’m going to have to keep ice cream on hand. Plus, it’ll fatten him up;) I’ve asked for a nurse to come over and give me a refresher. I asked my mom to come so she can administer the shots when they’re spending the night at his house.
I remember the first time. I remember Jeff holding Jackson and the pen in hand. I remember the nurse counting to 3. I remember Jeff immediately sticking the needle in. I was surprised. I would have flinched or chickened out and needed more time. I thought of how it was easier for him because he was braver than me. Or because he injected himself multiple times when he was using illegal steroids…I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.
I pray things go smoothly, Jackson cooperates, he grows. I pray I can be like Jeff, like a strong father.
I broke out the weights again yesterday morning.
My food game wasn’t on par because I had a higher calorie lunch and dinner than I have been. We’ll see how that effects me.
Didn’t get a run, soccer games have started. It was work, a quick dinner, game, homework, baths, bed. And I go to bed early… like 930 early. I went to bed at 9 in anticipation of a long day today. But I still woke up at 5 lol. It’s not even 6 am and the boys are up too. We’re morning people lol:)
Jackson seemed to have a great birthday. Sounds like school and day care celebrated with him. I took cookies to his class yesterday morning. He came home with 3. I had one to celebrate.
Second job starts tonight. My fear is I start depending on fast food on breaks and in between jobs. I’m going to have to stash turkey sandwiches.
I didn’t work out this morning. I’ll probably regret it but I wanted a break.
Tomorrow: soccer game at 9 am, store, pick up cake, clean up the house, 2 PM birthday party, then the boys go with my mom so I can go to work at 9 Sunday morning.
Oh! Jackson’s deficient in HGH. His doctor’s office is trying to see about insurance coverage. All this after I got a bill for three endocrinologist office visit was $398 after insurance. Looks like my second job will pay off. Looks like I’m not going to put it where I wanted it to go all along. Ugh. He’s worth it. I just hope if he does get the HGH Jackson will tolerate the shots…omg it’s already worrying me. It took 3 of us for the IV. I’m thinking of giving it to him in his sleep. Dear God, I hope it works out.
Not sober. Finished my bottle of wine I bought yesterday.
This morning, woke up early, put 10 minutes in on the treadmill. Yes, only 10 minutes. My heart rate’s not getting up high enough on that thing. I exercised with some weights for a few more minutes after getting off the treadmill, I snoozed a half hour so I didn’t give myself enough time.
Healthy, frozen meals for lunch and dinner. Fruits for snacks. A salad at lunch.
A bottle of wine after work.
Ok, so that doesn’t need to happen often. I just want to fit into my pants!!! I fit into 4 pairs from last year…I have a lot of pants.
But I get to buy more at a discount at my second job starting Friday:)
I got a call from Jackson’s endocrinologist today, I hit her bill for an office visit today…it’s 398 after insurance, she said Jackson is deficient in HGH, by insurance standards he should qualify for HGH injections. I’m worried about how much the insurance won’t pay. I’m worried about side effects. I’m worried about him holding still for a shot every day. I’m worried about giving him a shot every day. I’ve done this before but it was easier when he was four years old.
His birthday is tomorrow. Nine. I can’t believe it.
I’m so thankful for him. He thanked me for buying milk there other day so I think he appreciates me some of the time.
I may weigh myself tomorrow for the hell of it. I may want to spare myself the disappointment.
It’s 12 am. I wake up. Suddenly I can’t sleep. For some reason the thought of telling Jake is brother is different than most kids and I need hon to take up for him enters my mind.
At what age do I tell him? How do I tell him. He doesn’t know.
The thought of this bothers me and I begin to cry.
Jackson’s such as awesome boy. I don’t him to be teased. I don’t want him being made fun of.
I’m telling God or the universe this as I sit up in bed crying.
Then I let out my little pity prayer too. To no longer do this alone. To have someone to help me and support me. I know it’s a selfish reason to want someone I’m just tired of doing this all alone.
Then I feel guilty because I know my mother’s helping but she enables some of their behavior by giving in and spoiling them. I need someone to discipline them. I know that takes time, to bond with someone and give them that permission, I think that’s why I want someone now. I want to begin trusting them, knowing them. Letting him know the boys. It’s a stupid reason to ask for God or the universe to send you someone but this is usually my daily thoughts or prayer. I know I’m doing good in my own. I know I’m doing all I can but I don’t always feel good enough and like I said I’d just like sometime to support me, to be on my team.
It’s a lot to ask. Especially when you’re not religious, lol! But I ask and I try to be good enough for someone every day.
Oh well. I’m one of those people that has to vent and who’s going to listen to listen to me at midnight? You fine folks. You all help me more than you know. Thank you.