Exhausted….

It’s exhausting….. Exhausting to keep going, when you feel you are going nowhere. Exhausting when you keep fighting when everyone else gave up on you. Exhausting when you don’t get the support you need. Exhausting when no one will step out of their shoes into yours for any amount of moments.

Exhausted hearing how you are dramatic when you are trying to keep it together and acting weird, so they don’t notice all your pain. Every time someone ever told me I was dramatic when I was younger, “Stop being so dramatic”, meant they did not care, they did not listen and being ‘dramatic’ was a bad thing. Being called dramatic has always been a negative thing in my head. But actors are dramatic… Lets take Robin Williams. Beloved actor, fantastically funny comedian, a man fighting depression, just like most comedians. He was always all over the place. I remember watching him on Oprah one day when I was younger. She said his name for introduction, and that’s the last time you heard her say anything the rest of the episode. He was what I thought was considered eccentric. He was a man who always changed his voice, to act out others, always say the more entertaining side of, well everything. He made everything funny, and people listened and remembered no matter how crazy he acted. He is my favorite actor. I loved him in “Mrs. Doubtfire”, “Patch Adams”…etc. I am a huge Robin Williams fan. Loved him even more on “Broadway 2102″…..The man had depression and hid it with humor.

He is my inspiration. That’s why I make people laugh. If they can’t see or notice the pain I hold. Pain from my past, being told I was ugly, stupid, dumb, white trash, oh and my all time favorite, “your parents only keep you around for the tax benefit”. Yes, yes, I was told that. It’s bullying at it’s finest. If I make you laugh at stupid crap, you can’t see what is really going on.

What is really going on? I am trying to be a successful stay at home mom, that can help support the kids. So far I am failing. I am trying to protect my kids by staying at home, so no one can harm them. Smallest one was sexually violated at three. At three………… it’s a baby… she was a baby. Blows my mind. I am trying to look at her as a survivor, which she is, but that man violated me too…. it’s not easy. If you talk about it, people stare at you. Why? Well, ignorance is bliss. People don’t like hearing that others are capable of such things. If they don’t believe it, then it could never happen to their kids. Then there is the faces of, “oh you must have let that happen”….. HAHA.. nope. She wasn’t with me. It can happen to ANYONE. On anyone’s time. Is it scary??? You have no idea. It broke me. It broke another parent also… her step mom. For reasons, I can’t explain. But she broke worse than all of us. Since the issue happened, her step mom and I… God gave us that woman. I will not let her go anywhere. She is now divorce from small fry’s dad, so in theory she is no longer the step mom…. not in my eyes. I could have NEVER asked for a better woman to be in my girl’s lives. She is such a better parent than me. I don’t feel I praise her enough. Yet I used to hate her. Yup, that very hurtful word… HATE. I hated her with a passion. I hated her because I didn’t see what was really going on with my smallest’s father. So I blamed her. Wow, was I wrong.

I carry around the knowledge of what a little girl has been through. What was done to her. It still doesn’t make sense to me. She is five now, but still….. she’s a baby. That person took a bit of her innocence. Why? Why does a baby appeal to him??????? I don’t think I really want to know the answer. Would you want to know?  I have to keep hush on what happened, because I get looked at differently, not her, me. Some don’t understand it, so when I say I must be a stay at home mom….. I am paranoid, and I want to protect my kids better. I know everyone has a dark secret. Some are scarier than others. Mine, I’ll tell you mine, I have depression and I am sadistic. I believe an eye for an eye. I don’t think death penalty is good enough for most. The person that touched my child, I wanted to do such things to him, that made the movie, “I spit on your grave”, look like a cake walk. Like it was mercy. Ever see that movie… it’s gross. I wanted to do worse to him. I have to not watch horror films, because, well, they can be a bit gross, but it’s also ideas. I have an over active, very visual imagination. What you see when you take mushrooms and hallucinate… I can do on my own. Like stepping into the movie “Cool world”. I don’t know why… it’s just how it is in my head. I can control it.. most of the time.

When I can’t control it, it’s not bad, like the sadistic bad. It’s depression. That’s what I can’t always control. It’s exhausting, it’s absolutely draining mentally, emotionally, physically. When it is in full swing, you can’t breathe. Lungs what’s that? Depression doesn’t care. It takes everything. You feel stupid, ridiculous, never good enough, smaller than an ant complex. It’s like all the bullies that have existed in your life, coming at you all at once… Kicking you while you are already down, and will not let up. That’s just the nicest part of it. So when you see people and they mention suicide… step back. Realize that when they say that, it’s not because it seems like the easy way out. Nothing about depression is easy. It’s our minds tearing us apart from the inside out on its own… yup, all by itself. It doesn’t shut up. There is no pause, no bathroom breaks. You can not excuse yourself. You can not ask politely to please hold that thought. No pausing to finish watching the show in another room on the other DVR… no. So suicide….. sounds amazing. Why? It’s said to be the “off” button. It’s like listening to all the judgemental things your in-laws could ever say about you, while living in your house, not contributing to bills…… for a year and then someone mentions an “off” button…. What? There is no way you can say you don’t fantasize hitting the button.  You would drool with the idea. Damn…. I would push the button for you. No one deserves that. Or stepping on a Lego. Just saying.

That is what suicide means for most people. An “off” button. The winning lottery ticket to change their life, and finally a way to shut off all the problems, the judgements, the name calling, the guilt, the feeling of defeat. Instead of looking at them differently… instead of saying that’s the easy way out and making them feel worse, or calling people to deal with it… sit there. Sit, and wait. Wait til they are breathing a bit better. It will take time. It comes in waves, like when you tried ecstasy.  It’s waves. Wait until they breathe. Might have to wait until they pass out, and wake up the next day. While you do, think about what that person is going through. They mentioned the off button because they don’t actually want that option. They don’t. They want help. They need a person to wait til they can breathe, and help them with a list of things. Ask them what sucks so bad. Write it down. Think of what you would do to solve these issues if they were yours. It might be simple answers, but to the person next to you, it’s not. They have not one positive thought. They can’t find one positive thought. They are mentally, emotionally and physically feeling like they are spiraling down the rabbit hole to the freaking twilight zone. It’s groundhog day every day. There is no let up. Well, sometimes there is, for some. Those are the one’s that fight with themselves everyday… that’s me. It’s an internal war. I will get to that in a moment. But the off button person, they feel like they can’t breathe. Do you want to help them?? Walk with them. Walk with them to the front door of an interview, walk with them to find a new apartment, walk with them and get coffee and talk. Walk them into a church that will help guide them, or meet new people with them. You with them, it’s not so scary. Realize that person needs someone to physically be there fill in life coach, til they are no longer sinking.

Now people like me, suicide still seems like a nice vacation. But we are too smart to do such… lets say. We know life doesn’t suck all the time. Just moments when depression flares. We may or may not be morning people. (I am not… not yet at least. Why leave a cozy, soft, warm bed with the fan blowing on you??? Who would want to leave such a nice place??) We fight with ourselves…”You got this, there is no reason for such negative thoughts… Maybe you are like a snickers commercial, and you’re just hungry, it’s not okay to think of such things, really now?” It is physical conversations in our head. It is a war. Red vs blue…. oh, better yet, Tag. It’s not a different personality, its a different part of your personality. Like that Disney movie I can’t think of the name. Where the little girl’s personalities talk, anger, jealous, crap, what was the blue one??? That’s most to all of us. All those personalities answer to the same name…. They are in the same small space, mine just argues louder. I wish for a mute button.

When mine flares up soo bad, that I cry, it hurts that bad… Peter pan is my rescue. Not the character… my other half I prefer to keep his name out. (He is the adult version of Peter Pan…. one giant child, he prefers ‘Pan the man”, like the hook movie..) That ridiculous man waits til I am done crying and then asks what it is I said while sobbing so hard, it wasn’t english. I will try to breathe, and repeat it the best I can, without trying to sound as pitiful as he may think my issues are. Lately, it’s the girls not listening. They don’t. I feel like I failed them… they are jerks, wonderful jerks, but jerks. They talk back wayyy too much. They say hurtful things, they treat me like crap. Not everyone else, just me. He is God…. I am the scum in the bathroom tub, or the ring around the toilet. That;s how they make me feel. I have to ask them to help with some chores…. I lost count how many times. If I am tired of hearing myself on repeat… I have to yell, than get asked by them why am I yelling and being mean??? I sure have no freaking idea…. you just kept ignoring me, no matter how I try to get your attention.. I am invisible. Yelling got your attention. (I hate yelling.) I don’t want to hear its a phase, they are too little to rebel…. teen years are not here yet. Peter pan has heard me yell, seen me be on repeat, they do nothing. He will now step in and attempt to help figure out why they are being such jerks. You have to understand, the girls are not his. He doesn’t like stepping on my toes, and almost always, we are a united front. But he is God, and they do listen……… the first time. You read that, the first time!!!!! Why? So depression comes in saying I am a bad parent. Yay.

He takes care of two little girls that are not his blood… when their fathers can not, won’t…. whatever the difference. Neither father calls. We don’t hear from them. I feel bad for the girls, but I am done trying to track them down. It is exhausting. I am tired of requesting the judge to not put them in jail for what they owe me. If they are in jail, how do they better themselves? If they don’t better themselves, how are they to be happy? If they are happy, the girls will be happy. That is what I tell myself. But that phone NEVER rings… I’d rather stay at home, protect my kids from the bad people, but also make a living while at home, so when Junior here arrives, I can breast feed and not have to hide in a bathroom stall pumping by hand, which for me ALWAYS takes longer than a company scheduled break…. all women are different… just saying. So in order to do so, I have to find a stay at home job. I can’t work for a call center… I have before, but in an office. But at home, I have Tweedle D and Tweedle Dumb barking at squirrels. or the neighbors dogs… or the mail man who seems afraid to wait at the door… he is always running to his car, oh and the people who are either walking, jogging, or just simply passing the giant property we rent, going home…. If the neighbor shuts his car door a little harder than normal, probably having a bad day…. we know. We know when the wind is blowing. Mind you Peter Pan works at night, so he sleeps during the day. It’s hard to keep them quiet. Oh, and we live in Florida. For those of you that have never been here, it’s the gate way to the fires of hell. We maybe, maybe get two weeks of “winter”. It means there is a cold front….. maybe its in the 50’s at night… maybe. Other than that, it is a sauna. So anything that has to do with being on the phone with a quiet background…. rule it out.

Most places want you to have an associates…. I do not have one… I have a Regents High School Diploma… I passed with flying colors…..nope. Yet I have met so many with G.E.D.’s….. nope, we do not qualify. But we all can not afford to pay for schooling… and do not have the time to pay off loans. If you are one of those people who can…. I envy you. Those hard-working parents, went to school while being a single parent… you get major brownie points. My depression doesn’t allow me. It kicks in like it would for someone with A.D.D…. it doesn’t let me focus, the pressure is unbearable. I’ve tried. Three times to be exact. It’s not for everyone. So the jobs that appeal to me, is having your very own business, where you set your own hours..(doc appts, psychologist, groceries while kids are in school, parenting classes, etc)….all need to be factored in. So you either make something to sell… or find something you can contribute with promoting and such. I have been doing this research for a year. I know which career cost what, what they entail, sales funnel, social media marketing (I am still learning this one), which are scams, copy and paste…etc. I found one that helps people. It helps ordinary, normal people, inside and out. Yes, it’s a health product, that the company does not like promoting on every social media, t.v. network, with paid actors…whatever stuff. They like to promote by stories. Means you are taking the product, and when others ask what this product does for you…. you simply just don’t lie. You tell people how it helps you from the inside out, how your body feels, how different you felt before and now, not after… now. It doesn’t cost a thing to promote, and if you find a few to purchase it, you get it free…. it’s even for kids. I am all SUPER excited… but looking into these companies for a year before finding this one… Peter Pan doesn’t understand. “Why would you put money into your job??” What? You buy clothes for yours? Uniforms? Caffeine to keep you awake for your shift? The gas to get there? The lotto tickets you like scratching with fingers crossed….in hopes of winning???? I don’t understand your question, because to me it doesn’t make sense. So my super hero, my life line, the one who reminds me to breathe, is so stressed about paying all the bills with his checks, doubts the idea of making an income from home, so I can help our family. Great.  How would that make you feel? Not supported??? Nope. Hello, depression, you can’t cut it for your family. yay.

When you try to put all the judgements aside at the stay at home business, you plug away at it, but quite often are told how it is a waste of your time. How you have other things to do… How no one will buy it because of the price. But they will buy crap sugar food, energy drinks, coffee, and all other crap, which if you put the prices of what the crap costs a month, it’s still more costly than the product that will actually help them…. Less pain, better sleep, better at being a morning person, energy that lasts all day, with no downfall… healthy. It’s like healthy crack… without the crash as my cousin suggested. But I am told, I fed into the companies b.s….. what? No. I have watch testimonial after testimonial, I have asked friends who take it, about it.. I have seen all the before and after’s and holy crap the difference. One woman on a video testimonial said she has three kids, and their never ending energy… she paused, I thought she was about to cry…. I get it lady, it is exhausting. I hear you… Then she goes on to say since this product, she has not stopped with them..WHAT?? I don’t understand. She continues with saying she doesn’t feel the need for a nap.THAT”S IT…….I need it. Doctor approved it. But I am broke and must keep at the social media advertising, until I have it myself and then promote it like the company wants us to.. not on social media. Damn. It’s not a bad thing, I am determined to get it, but but depression doesn’t have patience…… So the longer I wait, the easier depression lingers in my mind saying I will fail….And it will be soon. It crushes all hopes and fear. yay

The major judgemental people in your family are your parents.. in my case at least. They think all my past experiences are failures… I got prego too fast with my first one, I married her dad in a rush, I shouldn’t have had my current smallest…. I am not going to say which parent… but every time I became pregnant, I would be asked if I was going to abort or adopt out….. yup. Not lying. I’ve had two abortions, I was told it was in my best interest. Not that long ago, I confided in them about my depression, they have always known I have had it. But I told them how exhausting it was to deal with, just looking for ideas, opinions, suggestions, love…. Dad said he can’t worry about a daughter in Florida, when he has two kids in front of him to worry about. Yup…… uh huh… you read that right. I am not lying about that either. So psychologist suggested radio silence. I see her point. But it sucks. That is my parents. They are suppose to be supportive, loving and well….. at least hear me, or talk to me. Ever not have your parents? For me quite often. If I do not take their advice or direction, I failed them….. They have no idea who I really am. They do not understand why I must learn the hard way on many things. They only make depression worse. So when it flares, my mind brings that up to… not even good enough for my parents. yay. (They also do not call, do not call their granddaughters, will not video chat with them.. they live in New York, and do not have time, but will send christmas presents….)

Well, hello depression…. These are just a few issues. I keep trying. I give it my all…. I research how to advertise, I will have to do it for Lisa’s consignment shop, so it isn’t a waste to learn about it now… But the struggle to have people to believe in you, when you’re having such a hard time fighting the negative thoughts with positive… on your own no less. It is sometimes too much to bare. Most people do not get it. They do not understand. If you are depressed and seem too negative, some people automatically think you will commit suicide, so hiding your issues so they don’t panic is a must. But now you are ‘over dramatic’. No dick, I am sugar-coating my issues so you don’t have a panic attack yourself. I sugar coat it for you…. That’s what I want to say sometimes.. But I keep my mouth shut.

It is difficult to see the positive, when no one else will let you see it. Their opinions are pressed on you, and most think they are always right. No. No you are not. Just because you think it is crap, does not mean it is. Your opinion is not anything more than an opinion. It is not the word of God, like you think it is. There is a lot of depressed people who do not know they are, or are really good at hiding it… Those are the best at the hide and seek game…… They are the phone calls you least expect, and while looking down at the cold body, you hear everyone sa, “But I don’t understand, they were happy, they were fine just yesterday, this does not make sense”. Yeah it does, they did not think you could handle their true selves. They lied this whole time to you and were amazing at it, because you could not handle them… Most of the time, they are right.

Depression is real, for those of you that think saying, “It’s mind over matter, it doesn’t exist…”, Let me tell you… It’s real. It is as real as the person in front of you. It is in most of us. It doesn’t like going away. Like the mucus in the Mucinex commercials, where the mucus gets upset and almost cries, because waffles are his favorite…… (I can’t judge him… waffles are def up there in the world of breakfast heaven…)

I don’t mean to rant… But it is hard for me to keep it all in. I am 7 months pregnant, hormones are high. I am 31 and pride myself on never had taken meds for depression, fear I wouldn’t be my funny self, or might rely on pills like some in my family. Just another reason to take the product I want to sell…. there is a chance of a natural mood lifter/enhancer… (Means a natural way, to possibly relieve some of the depression, plus make money promoting it, also DOES mean less depression.) Then my parents can suck it…. I could and would be a successful, healthy stay at home mom, the defender of children against bad guys, not relying or hoping for child support and help Peter Pan on supporting them all by ourselves….. means no money or food stamps from the state, could pay back bills…. no more debt, fix the truck, take all the parenting classes I need…..while not taking a nap. It is not the cure for my depression, but most issues that make it flare up are intertwined…. So once one issue lifts, so start the gloomy clouds from my head, and I can finally stop singing the Winnie the pooh song, “I am just a black rain cloud”…. Even tho I love Winnie the Pooh.

 

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