torsdag 21 juni 2012

Fucking apeshit cold and why can't I ever get any rest

05.45 Youngest son woke me up, he had wet his bed. Changed the beddings. Staggered back to bed, wondering why I had no memory of swallowing a cactus.
07.45 The trash truck arrived and started making noice, right outside my bedroom window.
09.08 Youngest son woke me up, saying he wanted breakfast and could he please skype with his friends. Got up. Growled. Made breakfast. Groweld. Woke the middle son and gave him breakfast. Growled. Tried to wake the oldest son. He growled.
10.00 Had tea. Cactus still in throath.
10.12 Tried to wake the oldest son. He still growled.
10.30 The same.
10.35 Walked the silly darn dog with middle son. The sun hurt my eyes. Head ached. Saw a butterfly. Son happy anyway.
11.03 Back. Tried to wake the oldest son, again. More growling.
11.17 The same.
11.25 Called the ex, told him to come get oldest son and dog. No growling, strange enough.
11.27 Did my best to wake the oldest son, telling him his father would fetch him in a while.
11.34 Oldest son yelled from his bedroom "I don't have any clean socks or t-shirt and WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME UP EARLIER???
11.35 Tried to find clean socks and t-shirt while pondering if it could be legal to throw your teenager out of a window, under certain circumbstances.
11.45 Ex arrived on parkinglot and called for son to get down to the car.
11.46 I followed, with the dog. The sun hit my head with a sledgehammer. Started to freeze. Cactus still in throath.
12.26 Writing this. Kitchen cleaned, dishes in dishwasher. Laundry started.  Both kids that are still here have been fed. I have not eaten. Think I have a fever, know I have a headache, its too hot and i am freezing and why oh WHY is there a big fucking cactus in my throath????

tisdag 19 juni 2012

And its not really..

Sometimes it feels like everything is too late. Too late to start over. Too late to become who I really am. Too late to help my kids grow up to be happy. Too late for babies.

I hate when this mood comes over me. It hurts.

And I am fucking tired of hurting.

My blog links

My life in photos My old photoblog.

Living with the monkeyboys My old blog about the kids and their problems.

Explaining mental abuse My blog about mental abuse. I started it as a help for myself to work with all the remaining issues of my experience of this.

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