Tell me how grateful I should be? You do it.

Published June 3, 2016 by insufficient mums

 

Mommy Warning SystemToday I am completely losing my mind.

Some days when I get up, the drudgery of the day ahead of me makes me want to give up.
Days like today it sends me into a rage so stormy that anyone in the firing line may be torn apart. It certainly has the capacity to permanently scar children – who were the cause of this fekking shit in the first place.

I get it. The circumstances of my life have required surrender, of my work, over any chance of self-actualisation. My children’s future is the reward.

I get it. I’m not working in a coal mine, I’m not a slave, at least there is some welfare left in this state. I know I’m lucky.
BUT I’m also human. And I need answers to life questions like these:

If you wash the plastic bottles for recycling, don’t throw the lids on the kitchen floor. Why would you do that?!?

How the fek am I meant to know whether or not you gave the cat its medication every fekn morning? Sometimes you do, so if I give it everyday I’ll kill it. Sometimes you don’t, so if I leave this responsibility to you, I’ll kill it.
If you do the dishes, put some away as you go, so I can use my arms at the kitchen sink, without draining dishes falling in. Why would you leave them like that?!?

If you use up a toilet roll, DON’T throw the empty on the floor. Why would you do that?!?

Do you people understand that while I do all this trivial shit everyday, I don’t get any further ahead on any of the stuff that really needs done? Do you want this house to look like a hovel? Don’t you like things to be clean?
Don’t you say sorry to me – do something about it!

Look, I’ve had enough. I know some of you out there can do this stuff, and so I hear things like “I need some time for me” or “Why don’t you come out with us you need cheered up” or “I’ll come over for a cuppa”.

No you fekn won’t. There’s me and the three little pigs. I can’t keep up with them as it is. They don’t give a flying fuk, and if you come over to remind me to nurture myself, I’ll have even less time to try to tame the monster.
I am unhappy. I don’t like this life (no matter how grateful I should be). Eventually I’ll either end it, or pack my bags and leave them to wallow in it.
Tell me how grateful I should be? You come and do it.

 

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Bully for you

Published May 9, 2016 by insufficient mums

Samhuin - 30 April 2016pLess than. Greater than. Social hierarchy, and the need to boost oneself by putting others down. ‘Put downs’, ‘taking the piss’, and other forms of trying to make people feel worse, so as to feel some power and status – at least for a moment. Bullying. That is why I started writing. The end point is somewhere else.

I have just experienced a strongly public, strangely impersonal, social media assassination. I actually feel grateful for the moments I’ve encountered this diseased streak of humanity in the past. It would have been devastating had I not recognised them when they came.

As a child, at times I was bullied. At times I was the bully. Just like everybody else.
I was somewhat unguided. No moral compass. No idea what to tolerate or accept. No idea that those moments spent inflicting pain to make myself feel good were the ugly side of humanity.

I learned these things as an adult. Much too late for many of the people in my past to ever forgive me. So I need to suck that up and own it.

I have been writing in an attempt to capture the essence of this moment. In being on the receiving end of narcissistic abuse from a total stranger. Her work was deliberate and methodical. Her ability to stay composed and plausible while I fought her was flawless. I still retain friends who have retained her as a friend, despite what she did to me, and their pronouncements that they care about me.

This has been an experience that returned me to the world I left behind a lifetime ago. Where humans were not to be trusted. Everybody (including me) would point out your flaws behind your back and smile at your face. I lived for a long time in the ugly side of life. There was violence. There was rape. There was theft. And no-one was faithful in word or deed. People lived ugly.

When this finally killed me, I had to build a new way of living in the world. One based on faith, and hope, and trust in the human animal. A world based on giving in service, being ruthlessly honest, and understanding that we are all flawed and doing our best. The narcissistic sociopath was always the exception. Some folk do have fundamental damage that will be with them for life. They become hollow, and they feed on pain.

So now, many years into doing my best and experiencing those rewards – of investing in people, and knowing the little I have to give is of value, the narcissist enters in a form unrecognisable to me. She is half my age.

She sought me out. The signs were obvious straight away. So I managed what I could, then set a boundary. And her anger came down on my wee business.

My reputation isn’t the problem. I have been called worse in the past. I’m no longer invested too much in the criticism of others.

What threw me is how easily 40 other 20 year olds jumped on her hatred and threw it at me. That really shook my faith in what I was doing.

I limited my online profiles. For the first time ever, I was worried that these people might have access to photos of my children.

This lifetime has been a hard run. Much work. Little support. I have an online crew who love me, but I also have three children with complex needs, an income that is challenged because of this, and no partner support (my choice – I find the rewards of such partnerships lacking).

Here’s what this experience does do. It helps me teach my children. That everyone has had a bully (not just you) and everyone has been a bully, at at least one stage in their lives. I think they thought I was making this lesson up. But attacks are random. It’s like rape – it can happen to anyone at any time.

I can teach them, it’s NOT my fault if it happens, but it is my job to say get the fuck offa me. Just because you force it down my throat, doesn’t mean I won’t bite it off.
Cos I will.

What we learn is not to be a bully. What we learn is never to tolerate the bullying of others. What we learn is to be better people. We cannot change others. But we can learn these lessons about our own behaviour.

But there is a ‘real world’ factor in this. It’s not just about philosophy and educating our babies.

In reality, running my wee home business around three children is hard. I have driven to St Leonards at 10pm to see clients in major distress. I have given my time at all hours. I have kept my house as presentable as possible around raising 3 kids with respect for clients, and with an nod to being in an outlaw vocation where credibility is always at stake. I study. I work. I pay taxes, and advertising, and merchandising. I work through my ex-husband’s claims in family court that I must be ‘raking it in’ with strict honesty, while the world sees me as a bludger. I offer my services for charity and fundraising.

And I’m tired. This is hard work.

So when one vicious human sets me up in this way, and 40 strangers jump onboard without hesitation, I know its time to move on.

There has been significant time, and work, and financial input into creating my little business. And I could continue. Because none of this will matter in six months, or even in six minutes. I do know that. The emotional impact is far bigger than the real world cost.

But part of continuing would be to prove my bully wrong, when really, she doesn’t matter at all. Whether I fight her or not, she has her satisfaction. All I can really do is make sure that my decisions are not because of her. She may be the catalyst, but she has no control. This is not about her.

It’s about me, and my kids. Like every decision I make.

The next client I see could be one like her. Or one sent by her. She’s stolen a week of my life, and that is enough time.

I choose freedom. Time to move on to the next phase of my life.

I have never regretted leaving anything.

I’m out

Published March 4, 2016 by insufficient mums

In my happiness prescription I have done all the things Not Availablewith all the people.
I now need to retire from interaction until the New Moon.
I Need to recharge.
I Need to look after my wee business.
I Need to parent.
I Need to clean up after the Three Child Challenge.
I Need to exercise my body (I have City 2 Surf rolling in fast).
And really, I just need to quiet my headspace, which has become somewhat overloaded and reactive.
Do interact with me on my pages. Introversion, while necessary for me, can be lonely.
But I can’t do anymore things with people, or things for people.
Luv to all, till the New Moon cometh! ❤

Late Night Comfort

Published October 25, 2015 by insufficient mums

I am at that time of nightShout out to my arms
when profound memes are too deep to digest.
I am at that time of night
when nothing seems more legitimate than old skool punk
I am at that time of night
when I know that my desires were the only thing that ever really got me into trouble
I am at that time of night
where my decision to become a parent would not hold up to cross-examination
I am at that time of night
where I would ask for closer support
But that same proffered ‘support’
has broken me too many times
to ever rely on ‘other’.
And so, I rely on me.
But, it’s that time of night…

Louder Than Words (a love poem)

Published September 13, 2015 by insufficient mums

StupidHe said

I can’t stay over at your place anymore
Animals, allergies

~ But I like being with you

*

He said

We won’t being going out like we used to
I’ve made other financial choices

~ But I like being with you

*

He said

You sure do think about sex a lot
So the sexy texts stopped

If I sent one, it was ignored

~ But I like being with you

*

He said

Every other woman I’ve every met or known is the same or better

You are easily replaceable
Actually, you could be any one of them

~ But I like being with you

*

He said

I’m not visiting your house any more
No transport
And I’m not good around children and animals

~ But I like being with you

*

He said

I need to stop renting movies when you stay over at mine
It’s a financial thing
We’ll just watch what’s here

~ But I like being with you

*

He said
You sure do think about sex a lot

Sex is off the list now
I have other priorities
~ But I like being with you

*

He said
I never wanted you to get hurt
He said that a lot

But it would have been easier if he’d said

I don’t like being with you

Work Life Balance…

Published August 7, 2015 by insufficient mums

Just a wee bit crappy. Maybe a wee bit sicky. Certainly tired.

Just crappy enough to know that seeing a Suzuki Swift just irritates me. Nothing wrong with the car, but the people who choose to buy them seem to be the same people who just need a kick up the backside in general.

Temper is also short with the non-compliant minions…

It’s been a long season. Courts, and death, and funeral… and some of the women I treasure the most have been through hell, just this season.

I am exhausted, but attempting to restart my life in small ways now.

Physically, I’m attending to my Green Prescription, and quite shocked at how unfit I’ve become so quickly now I’m older. Mainly joints and ligaments… anything that stretches or clicks, and probably shouldn’t.

Energetically, I’m sleeping. A lot. I figure I should trust my body.

Emotionally, I’m shifting away from some of the causes I pursue, because they bring me low. Even on my wee political page, I’ve always tried to post not only about the problems, but also about potential and practical solutions. But Cecil nearly finished me. I gotta recharge.

Environmentally, I’m just concentrating on home and hearth. Still decluttering while I struggle to maintain Flylady cleaning in the face of daily (and unreasonable) opposition.

Politically, I’m looking further into Socialism, as the New Zealand movement seems as deeply environmentally focused as it is socially. Their main focus seems to be combating injustice on all levels. And that suits me just fine.

Creatively, I’m hoping that my tiny bit of blogging, maintenance of my pages, and my wee tarot business are taking care of that. I know I need to be writing and even drawing more. But hell, I’m finding I just cant do everything.

Academically, I’m still learning about tarot, Jung, and archetypes – and likely will be forever. I read across a wide range of material every day – political, social, and spiritual.

Spiritually, I’m more in contact with the Moon and the seasons than I ever have been. I run my life to that clock. And that keeps me in constant communion with my Gods. Just being of the Earth.

And sexually, I’m being treated just fine! Thanks for asking.

Socially – that’s the big one for an introvert like me – I got out last night for a couple of hours for a meetup with my local Pagan group. It was bloody hard to get out of this house of small wild dependants by 5pm, but do it I did. And I will do so again every month. I love socialising, but need time to recharge after interacting with people. So as a friend I can be problematic. “Come here, I like you. Now go away for a month.” Not everyone’s cup of companionship.

So, there it is. My recovery programme.

I have come to replace the word ‘balance’ with ‘inclusivity’. These areas of my life are never in balance – they can’t possibly be. There are to many of them. But I include a little of each in my schedule – more of some as the Moon waxes, less of some as the Moon wanes. It’s not a balanced diet, because I can’t eat that much. But my intention for living as busy and as well as I do is that, over time, no nutrient is completely left out.

Sucking Back Crazy

Published February 15, 2015 by insufficient mums

I think I may have been a bit crazy this weekend…niceffects1

Certainly negative, with PMT-like mood-swings.

I just caught myself thoroughly dissecting every negative thing in my life, whilst driving. Rather than concentrating on the good, I was thoroughly analysing the difficult.

And it has been a challenging weekend. One where I’ve obviously been the house elf while everyone else treated me with disdain.

But I think it’s more than that. I think its cos I’ve run out of my nicotine lozenges.

Now, I haven’t really smoked for a few years now, but I still LOVE those nicotine lozenges and they love me. I believe I have a triple overdose every day.

Nicotine was the drug of choice for my family. Yes, there were others – particularly alcohol. But nicotine was the key in the lock that took all the crazy away. While stop smoking programmes told us that nicotine actually created the crazy, and if we stopped using it we’d stop desiring it – for my family it was like being told that the other humans get by without blood. Nicotine worked. And when I let go of every other addiction in my life, I kept my nicotine – for decades.

And this weekend I ran out of nicotine replacement lozenges – and THINGS SUCKED BIGTIME!!

I have had a therapist look me straight in the eye and tell me he doesn’t believe in PMT, but I can tell you, these are the same symptoms. And I don’t care if I’m keeping my balance hormonally, glycaemically, or with nicotine. The control substance is irrelevant.

Even if it turns out that my natural state is that of a crazy person, and nicotine allows me to “pass” – irrelevant.

The point is, I need it. It works. I don’t have any. And I really shouldn’t be allowed to parent, drive, or generally interact with the humans without it.