on what’s confusing.

So the confusing part here on this new Open Diary is the “active” time notation and then the latest entry.  I get confused because I may see a friend or author that I know, I may not recall the title of their last entry, but I will see that they were “active” a certain number of hours ago.  Then I go to their diary and realize I’m reading an entry from a few days ago.  In other words, knowing when someone is “active” is kind of useless to me.  I don’t care when an author has been “active”.  I care when they have written.  Knowing when someone is “active” feels kinda stalker-y to me.

At some point, I will need to go to friends only.  I know that.  I’m worried that what I write will be discovered by forces I’d prefer not to.  I will want to be careful that I at least “know”.   I don’t want to just now though.  I’m hoping to find new friends, read new diaries, connect with old friends.  Except some of my old friends are elsewhere.  They accepted change better than I did.

My sibling is psychotic. If she knew about this place, it could cause serious problems.  I don’t think she knows, but if she ever did…like I said, she’s fucking psychotic and I don’t have an ACL because of her bullshit.

Today I get to parent solo AGAIN while my husband goes to some kind of training.  Last night was another “come to Jesus” meeting about his job situation.  It stemmed from conversations I had with my oldest son.

There is one thing I can say that I am not ashamed to say: I am not rational when it comes to my oldest adopted son.

A few might know his background, if you know me elsewhere.  If you don’t, suffice to say the following:  I fought like hell to bring him into our family.  He is a boy from a terrible trauma background.  I adore him.  DON’T FUCK WITH HIM.

My oldest son is upset.  Of course he is.  Are we going to stay living here?  Questions, questions.  I could see his anxiety.  As I tried to give careful answers, the blood in my veins started to boil.

When he went to bed, I went off on my husband.  Shit or get off the pot, I said.  You keep thinking you’re this great candidate and you should have X or Y.  Well guess what, you don’t.  You’re working at a shitty company in a shitty role and I’m really sorry that’s true. I can give you the list of why that is and what role you played in that, sweetie.  You don’t have the guts or the mindset to have the success you want.  Fine.  Accept that about yourself.  Let it go. Or change.  Get motivated.  Be the shark.  Chase what you want (we’ll have to follow you – fine.) .  But this? The way things are now?  Fuck off.  You’re hurting the kids with your inability to settle down somehow.  YOU’RE HURTING MY OLDEST SON, AND I AM NOT RATIONAL ABOUT MY OLDEST SON.

I don’t know if he heard me, I don’t know that it makes a difference.  This lengthy, terrible layoff has caused so many problems, I can’t even list them.