Hissy Fit

I hate that every post has been so negative but I just can’t seem to see the light these days. 

I was driving between the “old house” and my mother’s house with tears streaming down my face.  How did it get to this? How after all the years of surviving my childhood, school, hard work that I am right back where I started?  How do others seem to just dance through life?

I wondered if I just grabbed the kiddo and just started driving…

I resent everything right now.  I want to stamp my feet, scream at the top of my lungs, throw the hissy fit of all hissy fits. 

I am not fit for polite company. 

Fuck it all.

Packing Up My Troubles

boxes

Monday.  It should be a 4 letter word.  Mday.  Hah! I made it one.

Guess you can tell I’m a wee bit depressed and a whole tablespoon of anxiety.  This move to my mothers’s…Sigh…I know it is the right thing to do.  I made a list.  When making life altering decisions you should always make a list, right?

Why We Should Move to the Mother’s

  1. No mortgage payment.  I have admit that this one is huge.  Our $2300 a month black hole was extremely manageable when we had 2 salaries and military retirement.  Heck – we lived like kings compared to the average US Joe Schmoe. Now no jobs and just retirement. Yep, no mortgage payment.
  2. My Mother’s health.  The old girl ain’t what she used to be.  The pack a day habit of Virginia Slims doesn’t help. And she eats like a 15 year old kid. And 70 is knocking at her door.  We have been spending more and more time over there helping with the house. Calling her at least once a day to make sure she hasn’t fallen and can’t get up. Did I mention she has no idea how to email, text, or Facebook?  I have to physically call her and make sure I have at least 30 minutes set aside ’cause it’s gonna be a long call.
  3. The Kiddo’s education.  My mother’s house is one of the best public elementary school districts in a 50 mile radius.  It gets 9 out of 10 on the Zillow thing.  There are no rentals available there.  None.

Three very good reasons why we should move into my mother’s house. Now the other side of the coin:

Why We Should Not Move to the Mother’s

  1. My MOTHER.  Every deity known to man! – I have challenges with this woman.  I have so many that they would hi-jack this post toot sweet. Big, ginormous, stupendous SIGH.

I am not the only one though.  Another dear friend is in the same boat but at least her partner in crime still has a job.  But they can’t afford to live here anymore not with 3 kids still at home.  She can’t find a job either after her lay off. So she is packing everything up, moving to North Carolina to her mother’s house.  We call and commiserate together.  Curse the companies that screwed us. Pour ourselves a glass of cheap wine and vent.

Time to get back to packing. Oh joy.

Just a Bump in the Road

bumpI re-read my first post.  LMAO.  No other words.  Damn, I sounded so chirpy at the end.  What a crock!

So let’s catch up with the purgatory I’m now living.

The kiddo started 1st grade okay but it became abundantly clear that this year was going to be a struggle.  I have not been a fan of his elementary school and guess what?  Still not a fan.  I tried the PTA.  Nope. That was a complete bust. And I tried. I really, really tried.  Crying and feeling like the girl not asked to the prom moments. Applied to substitute.  Never heard from the school district.  Called the school district again…and again…and again. Nada.  Tried to work with his teachers – laughing sarcastically.  Let’s just say I never felt like there was a welcome mat.  Kiddo’s School – Suck Check #1

Now for some sweetness – The Oriental Prince and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary.  We finally got to go on a real honeymoon – thank you Disney Cruise Line and last minute military discounts.  It was glorious.  8 days and 7 nights of Western Caribbean cruising.  We met two amazing couples that we are still chatting with every day.  We had alone time and for a brief glimmer of time thought everything was going to be okay.

See the foreshadowing there – cue the sad music.

We got through Christmas relatively fine. By that time, I still haven’t head from my father but pretty much given up on him.  Forgot to mention - sometime in May of last year the father unit decided not to answer any of my calls or texts.  I have no idea why.  His new life with the new wife and her kids are obviously way more important than me and my family.  I don’t know why I was ever surprised.  Like Crohn’s that is another topic for another day.

February rolls around and the Oriental Prince comes homes shell shocked.  He has been laid off too.  Now we are both statistics.  That is when I think I completely froze inside.  You see when you grow up poor and pull yourself out that demeaning pond scum of life your worst fear is falling back into that primordial ooze.  To push and work so hard.  To sacrifice self and family. To feel like you did EVERY SINGLE DAMN THING the way you were supposed to and this happens.  No Jobs - Suck Check #2

People will call it a bump in the road.  A bump in the road my ass.  I start to wonder what the fuck (excuse the language but at this point…) I did wrong to get to here. Am I cursed?  Is there such a thing because I am pretty sure it runs on my father’s side of the blanket.

You see from conception I have had no breaks.  I was the product of a back seat liaison that probably should have expired with the summer of ’69. But no – mother got knocked up, they married, and it was a huge mistake.  I got blamed silently and not so silently. Careers didn’t happen because of me. Stuck in the same town happened because of me. I tried hard to make it better.  Best grades. Lead roles in the plays. Whatever kept the boat from rocking and the supposed adults from either snarling at me or going psycho.  Didn’t matter though.  Still happened each and every single day. Just a bump in the road.

Then Crohn’s Disease struck in middle school.  Doctors had no clue.  Almost killed me. Watch out for that bump in the road.

Welcome to high school with a life long chronic disease that is embarrassing as all get out that no one knows about and looks at you like you are a  freak.  But once again, get good grades, join all the clubs, get into a good college – stay on target girl.  Oh money for college – there is none.  Father unit is buying a piece of property for his retirement.  He was 40 at the time.  Younger than I am right now. So off to the local college. No school of my dreams but hey – at least I’m going to college. Right? Yay. Just a bump in the road.

Must get out.  Must get out.  Work as many jobs as you can.  Must get out.  Finish college.  Must get out.

Meet who I think is a Prince in disguise.  Woos me.  Asks me to marry him.  OK.  Stability. Someone that wants me. He is a huge liar.  HUGE. Ten years of living one whopper of a lie.  Line in the sand, never would have married him nor the less be around him kind of lie. Could have destroyed me kind of lie.  And it did for quite awhile and if I am honest still colors my world.  Divorce. One hell of a bump there.

Glimmer of hope – my Oriental Prince.  He saved me from dating men that used me. He truly loves me – unconditionally.  And I know because we made a wonderful kiddo together.  But that making was fraught with the Grim Reaper breathing down my neck daily.  IV treatments for dehydration. Torn pelvic girdles. Eclampsia. Mini-stroke. Bed rest at home.  Bed rest at hospital.  Emergency C-section. Scary, scary days and nights and he never faltered. Not once. A baby bump – the happy kind.

Back to work.  Must work.  Must provide better life for the kiddo. Work 50 hours a week.  Get screwed over more times than I want to count.  This is when I started saying “I don’t like people.” You know what happens with this. (Don’t?  See first blog.)  Bump.

And here we are back in the present.  Both the Oriental Prince and I have sent and or applied to hundreds (yes hundreds) of postings.  I have had multiple phone interviews and two in person interviews.  Was second choice to male candidates. Oh did I mention that I was in the defense contracting industry where a penis is a must have.  The Oriental Prince also has had multiple phone interviews and one in person.  Did I mention that we both have college degrees, years of experience, and nice DoD clearances?  Yep. I am darn tootin’ sure I have thing for taking the bumpiest path possible.

Now our finances are a wreck.  Savings is dwindling down to nothing.  We can no longer afford our home.  We have no retirement other than OP’s military retirement (our only saving grace.)  And to top it off, both my mother and OP’s parental’s health are going down the drain. Sandwich Generation – Suck Check #3

Solution – sell the house, move into my mother’s, try the kiddo in a new school, keep looking for a job – any freakin’ job.

Life – Suck Check #4

First Step

Back in May of  2013 my life changed – dramatically – I became a defense department reduction statistic.  After working for thirteen years with a major defense contractor, I was offered the opportunity to lead an entire company’s business financial and pricing group.  I thought all my hard work had come to fruition – better money, better position, closer commute, small company that on the surface appeared to value its employees.  What I wasn’t told was the precarious position I was entering.  So in seven months, I was faced with a lay off notice.  I wish I could say more but I can’t due to legalities.  To suffice it to say, I felt completely screwed without a drink and a cig afterwards.

But there was some silver in that very gray cloud – I had been feeling like the worse mother of the century.  I was missing my little boy’s childhood piece by piece.  I was also getting more sick (I have Crohn’s Disease – more of that another time) and pushing myself to the limit.  I had needed to make a change but was way too terrified to make it. Well – change was made for me!

So here I am four months later, I am still trying to figure out all this change.  I had big plans for the summer that got hijacked by my father-in-law getting diagnosed with lymphoma.  So – big plans go BOOM.

But I had an epiphany today.  Who says I have to be the same person slogging through life.  Who?  No one. So today was a kind of funeral for the woman I was.  Tomorrow will be a kind of re-birth.  I’m going to really think about the things I love about myself and want to keep. On the flip side ditch the baggage that has been weighing me down.

So I hope by putting this down in words not just thoughts in my head I can translate this into my real life – the real life I want.