I'm better

After what seemed like forever, the Baby has now figured out that the potty chair is a potty chair and not other things. So, one day he says, “Peepee.” Mr. Zelda sits him on the potty and the Baby peepees on the potty. We did a happy dance, marched around the apartment doing the peepee in the potty dance and on and on, well that was the first and last time. So, maybe he will get the urge again soon. On a bright note, he is now holding his legs straight up in the air while I change his poopy diaper, that’s a relief from all the lifting.

Yesterday, he was telling us jokes and laughing and laughing and while we didn’t exactly understand his jokes, he was so cute and funny that we had to knee slap laugh with him.

He loves rocks. We went rock hunting and I found a few fossils and a couple of just unique rocks and he has taken them over as his.

I’m feeling better, tired and sore most of the time, but the depression thing is easing up. I actually see day light now and have left the house daily. I hate my disease because of the depression. I could be manic all the time, that’s not a bad thing but about every few years or so, I drop to a low that takes me weeks to come out of and when I start coming out, I feel like I have had major heart surgery. I know that heart surgery is much more serious as far as recovery than coming out of a depression, but folks, this one like to have done me in. If I had not had the Baby, well I think that I could easily have gone to bed forever. That’s how I felt, just let me go to bed, cover my head, and sleep. Things are better, slowly but surely they are improving.

Fuck, I'm just Fucked!!!

Life still sucks, but I am going to go to the library and get a book or fifty. I am just so tired and so depressed. The new dose of meds aren’t helping and I am afraid to let the shrink know because he wanted to admit me and change some of my meds and do so under strict observation, the fuck I say, no way. The therapists wants me to come twice a week and talk about it, but fuck, I don’t know what it is that is hurting me so much. Could be the loss of my daughter, I mean she is lost, she isn’t even using her visitation with the seven year old and has not made an attempt to see the Baby. I am so worried that I have lost her forever. I’m afraid she is cold or hungry or being mistreated. I am afraid that she doesn’t know how much I love her. It’s love, yes, it’s love that kept her from going over the deep end, and now, well, she thinks I don’t love her and I’m afraid she has crossed over and can’t find her way back.

Also, I’m 51 and keeping up with the Baby is so hard, although, I wouldn’t change a thing, well, I’d make his mother well so she could keep up with him. I am not getting to see the seven-year-old enough. I miss him so much that my heart hurts.

All this stress is eating that hole in my stomach larger and larger and now the surgeon is looking at doing surgery to remove the diseased section but then we can’t do that because of my lung fungus and I am breathing worse and worse and I am just so tired of being sick. Fuck!

Yesterday, we took the boys to the pool and when I went outside the sun blinded me and I realized that I had not been outside since a week before when I took the Baby to the park. I feel the need to shave my head, or pierce my tongue or do something radical to wake me up, get me going. I don’t know what I need, but I’m not getting it and it’s killing me. I have to snap out of this. But how do you snap yourself out of sadness so painful that it hurts to breathe?

Out of the crib and into the bed

The Baby is weaned and our newest milestone, he is out of his crib. Yes, last night, we put together the antique cast iron bed that Mr. Zelda painted red, and we put the new Sponge Bob sheets and comforter on it, of course, it is in our room. Baby steps here. Nonetheless, after he realized that he was expected to sleep in that bed and not his crib, he burst into these huge tears. So, I got in my bed, and he in his, and after a few sobs, and much cuddling with Froggy, Shrek, and Foxy, he fell asleep. When he woke up, I said, you did it, you slept in the big boy bed all night long. He was as happy and helped me make the bed and then we went downstairs and all is well. Now, if potty training will be as easy.

And life still sucks.

My pc is still broken, but Mr. Zelda did manage to get my hard drive out and put it in my son’s pc and I can access my stuff. YEAH! I still don’t have all my favorites on my son’s favorites but I’ll do that later. I’m just glad to get to my novel. Whores need to be told about too.
Anyway, I think I’m going down, you know as in depression. I’m bi-polar and for the last few weeks, I have not wanted to get out or do anything, so unlike me. I don’t think I have mopped my kitchen floor in two weeks. When the Baby sleeps, I sleep and when he is awake all I do is sit and play with him. I don’t want to read, or talk to Mr. Zelda, especially not Mr. Zelda, nor do I want to do anything else. I guess I’ll call my shrink. I hate to do that because his solution is up my medicine and the psychologist that I am seeing, well all he wants to do is take me off my medicine. I wish I could stay the same, you know mentally the same all the time. Life sucks.

Life really sucks.

I went to the house in the valley. I’m really wanting to move back to my house. I know that if I do, then in the fall, I will be driving three hours a day at least three days a week. I’m not sure I am up to that. In addition, I really like this little town. But I miss my house, the security of my yard and my things and my familiar surroundings. I am also struggling with other things. You know, I was single for decades before I married Mr. Zelda and while he has a lot of good points, I have to tell you, I liked being single much better than I like being married. I don’t like having to explain where I am going and why and when I will be back. I hate that. I don’t like explaining why I am spending money, it’s my money. I am tired of the isolation and he doesn’t isolate me, it’s just that some of my friends don’t like him and he doesn’t like my friends, or most of my friends. There are a few who like him, but for the most part, he sees anyone as a threat to him or a threat to us. I don’t see that, and I need friends, and I have always had best friends and now, well things are just different. I know he will probably or at least eventually read this and his feelings will be hurt, but I write this blog to empty my chest of all those clinching feelings and he stumbled on it by reading other blogs and finding me or maybe he stalked me, I’m not sure, but he has found it and reads it and so he will read this and be hurt but I can’t help it. Just say it, I’m a bitch.