Mental Chaos

Meishka got out twice this morning. The locals are getting to know her. The little rascal has taken to jumping the fence EVEN when we are at home (used to only do it when we were out). She is major mischief (and a headache). WE call her "Mischief Meishka". Or "Madam Meishka"

I

 I attended to Sofie’s call for assistance with herding the chickens and ducks outside, and left the tap running in the kitchen sink (with plug in). Returned to have flooding through the kitchen all over the benches. And so began our morning.

I don’t know where the day went. By afternoon we were bundling in the car to make the trek across the city. I did not like driving. I still feel uneasy and with good reason. My judgment is not right, and my general subconscious anxiety is high. I am constantly overtaxed.

Sofie went from cheerful happy in the car and telling me stories, to complete upset and angry for us having moved.  What can I say, she’s very changeable in moods. VERY. And I was actually doing my best to be pleasant and laugh at her comments of silliness, and be interactive so she WASN’T picking up on any of my mental stuff.  In this instance she was just her normal moody self.  Anyway, so she brought out the daggers, and flung them with contempt. She said that "You made this decision to move and it is the WORST decision EVER for me!" She continued to say that we only thought about ourselves and *how* would WE know what was best for HER. I tried to explain that we did the best we could, – we always do – being a parent and making decisions isn’t easy, especially when they have such a marked effect on everyone. I reinforced to her (again) that all decisions have pros and cons, and life has so many pathways – many we don’t take and would never know the result of. Our decision here was not only to benefit us in the short term (money saving) but would benefit us with simplicity in living, and hopefully improved opportunities for her with friendships, extracurricular, and school.

You see, she continues to talk online with her old classmates from her old school who tell her "how much fun" they’re having with their "best teacher in the school", which is hardly helping Sofie’s attitude. Sofie knew who her teacher would have been at her old school, and it just happened to be the teacher who was voted "Teacher of the Year" (not nation-wide, but still). Meanwhile Sofie likes her new teacher at her new school and I feel we’re extremely lucky to have secured her. She is firm, disciplined, and VERY structured. NOt only that but apparently she’s witty, and Sofie has commented more than once how she likes her because she makes "ordinary things funny". 

If you ask me, we’ve hit the jackpot. With this house, with her school, her teacher, and the lifestyle that this town offers. Of course, it will take some time for Sofie to realise how many benefits there TRULY are to living here. Sometimes I wish could just talk to her like an adult now, because damn, it’s so hard when she just doesn’t understand and won’t trust us.

I know she’s only 11 (and going through puberty with a love interest in a boy, mind you), and I do expect her to be sad, upset and frustrated, but I am hoping for a bit of slack soon. I tried to tell her to do her best to take it out on things that won’t be hurt – i.e, not Dad or I, or anyone else". Instead, anger at the trees, or her pillow, or the general atmosphere. She seemed to think this was absurd because surely Dad and I were to blame and needed to be yelled at. I don’t think it’s right to let her get away with the idea that her Dad and I don’t love her or care about her and made this decision to move "entirely to make her life a misery and without any consideration to her". I call her on that when she says it, and I also tried to tell her that it won’t serve any goodness to be cruel to me or Dad, as it will only make us sad and stressed, and herself miserable, such that life would become even worse for us.

Sofie is very changeable. I should be thanking my lucky starts (and I am) that she makes new friends easily, and will communicate how she’s feeling (with her online blog, or verbally to me). She has made new friends already (within days of entering the new school). After 2 weeks at the new school she had a birthday party and invited 4 of these new friends over to celebrate (I NEVER could do this, not even now! – only after knowing them 2 weeks!). She loves the house, -the old fashioned light switches and window and doors, to name just a few things). She enjoys the responsibilitiy of walking to school and home, and running errands to the local corner store. She has already signed up for the local soccor club (her own idea), and is excited about the upcoming Rodeo to be held on March 2nd. Of course, she forgets all these things when she is missing her old friends and her old school, or even the old house, and this is understandable. But surely my job is to grant her some grieving time, to (gently) correct her misperceptions and disallow her cruel accusations (of our non-care, and foul intent).

I was late to the doctors. Trying to do 504983 things all at once of course. I needed to buy a pie maker, in order to make home made meat pies for Sofie so that I can blend and hide some pureed vegetables in the sauce. The child often drives me insane with her fussiness of food, and while I disallow as much fussiness as I can, I still have to resort to accomodating her most times, or the meal table is a terrible battle ground that none of us have the mental strength to handle. She uses circular logic and plain outright lies to tell me she doesn’t like some foods (when she has clearly demonstrated she’s liked them before, and ate them yesterday). She refuses to eat sandwiches (ever since i’ve known her), and there is only 4 vegetables she will eat.  There are only 8 night-time meals I can cook that she’ll eat and I have to rotate through. School lunches are tricky, but I am proud to say I do a fantastic job. Before I came I think she mostly got the same thing everyday, so hey, she can’t complain (but she will).

So yeah, where was I? I was late to the doctor. By 22 minutes. It cut our session down a bit, and I motor-mouthed out a zillion things all at once to try and describe the events of the past 2 weeks (he’s been away for a week). I think he got the picture I was stressed, and he asked me what the BIGGEST stressor for me right now is. I said "parenting Sofie". To which a close 2nd came "relationship with Damien". I mentioned the car crashes, the taking too many sleeping pills, the general feeling of self-harm and this last week of uncontrolled eating. I said casually in passing I’d like to go IP and I need time away". He smiled as if I had only said it in jest.

It is not in jest.

There will be some form of self-harm happening very soon. This has go

ne on way too long. And I"m serious about needing to get away. I first need to lose 5 fucking kgs (so I will officially be too thin for medical safety). Just watch me.