It’s Not You, It’s Me

I’ve been so caught up in obligations and commitments and the busy-ness of a new school year – not to mention a perpetually sour mood – I’ve barely spoken to anyone. My dad called me this morning with a great big “well” – since we haven’t had a decent conversation in 2 weeks. I haven’t written, even in my journal. I haven’t called anyone. I’ve not responded timely to text messages. It’s nothing personal.

The final days of summer were consumed by running two kids to sports every day, at the crack of dawn and after dinner. Todd went back to work the third week of August. He left work early one day to come home and take care of Pi. We had to put her down. I had a 5-hour business meeting the next day, and the day after that was Opac’s scrimmage. There was back-to-school shopping to do, and school supplies totaling $50. I had to have a biopsy, and spent a few weeks worrying about that. Those results came back normal. My mother spent 8 days in the hospital over an hour away from me, and I worried over that.

I missed Veruca’s first game because I had tickets to see Jim Gaffigan at the Borgata in Atlantic City. Ted Alexandro opened for him, and if you aren’t familiar – I highly recommend you check them both out. It was a much needed respite from all the bullshit. And the people watching in the casino was divine.

Expecting the world to slow down after school started was the wrong expectation. Both kids had appointments on the third day – one in the morning, one in the afternoon. I had a meeting the next day, and a telephone conference the day after that. Opac’s first game was on Friday the 2nd at a school nearly 2 hours away, and I wasn’t able to attend. He sacked the quarterback, and our team lost at the one yard line when the clock ran out. I didn’t miss V’s second game, but had to leave for work immediately after.

I’ve been frustrated by the communication misfires going on around me. It’s like we’re all speaking different languages – either that, or they’re all speaking the same language and I am the only foreigner in the land of don’t-give-a-fuck. (There’s that word again. It’s not going away just yet. Sorry, not sorry.) From concession stand duty to scheduling business meetings… it’s like nobody is listening, or – in the present cases – nobody is reading.

The lack of medication is taking its toll on me. And everyone around me. I think Todd has been avoiding me for fear of being wounded by shrapnel. My fuse is relatively short, and God be with the fool who accidentally lights it. The anxiety I have is sometimes suffocating, and I find myself worrying about stupid shit I have zero control over. And the crying! After so many years of not being easily moved to those emotions, I’m a Goddamn basket case and it’s embarrassing. Who is this woman? Someone please throw some purple pills at her. Please.

In the midst of all this, Veruca’s 6th grade class went to an outdoor, overnight adventure camp for four days, the second week of school. The anxiety I had over this – even knowing that she wasn’t going to be staying over – reached new heights by Labor Day. There were so many unanswered questions and little details I needed clarified, and it seemed like no one was running this thing from our school’s side.

Opac got into an argument with his dad who said some atrocious, though not surprising, things to him. It went on for hours and Opac told me he wasn’t going to stand up for his dad at his wedding on Saturday. I took the high road in spite of ex’s best efforts (aka “The Other Shoe”) to engage me in this argument (you’d all be so proud of me – and all without alcohol OR medication!), and told Opac that his dad’s wedding was an important day and that he needs to be the bigger man in this situation. Because obviously ex never will be.

So I’ve been a little preoccupied. If one more person dared to give me shit about not being there or not doing this, or that… I would release a torrent of terseness that would leave them wishing they’d never heard of me.

And so, on a wing and a prayer, I went off to adventure camp last week – having to let go of all the other bullshit to focus on just school and Veruca and diabetes bullshit – my “unspecified” anxiety tingling on the surface like the hairs on my arms. And it turned out to be the best thing I could’ve done for myself.

**Disclaimer: I don’t use the upgraded service; therefore, you will see ads at the bottom of my posts (ads I don’t see because I’m not you). As it has come to my attention that certain ads may not align with my world views – I am compelled to add the following statement until further notice.

I ABSOLUTELY DO NOT SUPPORT DONALD TRUMP. NOT YESTERDAY, NOT TODAY, NOT – EVER.

 

 

 

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “It’s Not You, It’s Me

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s