For Chaos

Yeah, so I had a panic attack yesterday.

I got a lot of things I’m trying to deal with. The mantra in my head “Keep it together” drones on and on. Those sensible words repeated continuously usually helps. I get up, I get ready, and I go to work. I run all the errands that need to be run. I nag my son about getting his schoolwork done. I’m fully functioning and capable. I just feel like I’m always spinning in a cyclone. Do this, check that, pick that up, take him there. I’m always tired. When I finally do get the chance to just sit still for awhile, I am then expected to pay attention to my poor neglected house husband. Yes, I know that sounds harsh. I’m just damn frustrated.
I feel like I’ve been trying most of my life to do better, strive for more, and go for the gold. Yet, when I look around I’m really just running on a hamster wheel. I’m giving it all I got but I’m getting nowhere really fast. I just want to stop trying. I don’t have many positive examples in my life of what a productive human being really is. As I run around trying to be one, I’m kinda just making it all up as I go along. I do my best but I really don’t measure up. When I’m this tired, this frustrated, it just doesn’t make any sense. The life of my degenerate relatives isn’t supposed to look like the better option. I would just like to not have to worry about everything. I want to throw consquences to the wind and just let the rest of the world try to pick up the pieces and figure it all out.
My son and I are really close. In truth, that kid is my best friend. I’m not his best friend mind you, a good mother can’t be your best friend. I’m still teaching him the ground rules and that makes me the enemy on occasion. For my son’s entire life, I’ve taught him that school is priority. I’ve stressed to him that he is choosing an important path at this stage in his life. He nodded in all the right places, and looked at me with understanding in those half focused teenaged eyes.
We got the final word from his school yesterday. My son will not be walking the graduation stage. It’s completely heartbreaking that after four years of keeping on target, he has missed the mark over a single English paper. Yes, it is the most important paper of his high school career. He should’ve been more concise, more diligent, more dedicated. I know, I really do. I won’t make excuses for my son. I’ve been running myself ragged helping him get this Senior project complete but we fell behind the deadline from day one. I thought I did my best to make sure that he stayed on task. Apparently, I didn’t. A good mother would’ve gotten her son to graduate high school. Can you say failure class? That’s what I feel like, a failure.
It’s not a total loss. All he needs to do is repeat his English class over the summer to get his diploma. Still, I’m very disappointed. I wanted better for my son. I thought I was teaching him to be better than I was. Funny, he’s doing almost exactly as I did. Only difference is, I had to finish my last few courses in the school that they banished the pregnant teens to. It terrifies me that my son just doesn’t have the examples that he needs in his life.
There is not one single positive male role model in his life. Even my grandfather, who I consider our patriarch, worked his ass off to support his family and be a good son/husband/father/grandfather got forced into retirement after a drunken car crash in a company car. I’m so worried that my son is banking on the mentality that most of the males in his life have adopted. My cousin’s words are the perfect example of that mentality. I asked my cousin once, “What the hell are you gonna do for your whole life? You constantly burn people. When our grandparents pass on, no one else is gonna support you.” He replied, “Hopefully, I’ll find a dumb ass chick that is smart enough to have her shit together but dumb enough to take all my bullshit. Kinda like you.” The only argument I had for that was “Good luck!”
This is just the tip of the iceberg of everything that led me to hysterics yesterday. I had gotten a text from my son about his final meeting with the school counselor. I was sitting at my desk when the text came through. I started to feel my pulse in my temples and the trembling started. I walked away from my cubicle and headed to the ladies room. I had hoped that getting away to take care of a simple natural function would be enough of a distraction to pull me from the emotional pit that I was sinking into. There was a line in the ladies room. Seeing that stupid line of women waiting for a bathroom stall triggered the waterworks. My head started to scream at me. Retreat! Retreat! Privacy needed immediately! Impending hysterics headed our way in T minus 30 seconds. Luckily, I had left my car keys in the jacket pocket I was wearing. The tears were falling before I got the car door open but since half the building was apparently waiting to drain their bladders, the parking lot was relatively empty. I sat in my car looking at a beautiful crisp blue sky & sobbing out of control.
Walking away from work so that I could throw a tantrum like a child just made me feel stupid and weak. I seriously couldn’t get it together. I sat in the car for more than an hour telling myself to stop it. Every time I thought things were getting back under control, I would think of some other daunting crisis that is headed my way and start all over again.
I thought about my baby Sister’s college graduation coming up. I will have to deal with her father if I attend. Dealing with that man, the man who caused me so much damage as a young girl is one of the biggest wounds that I bleed from. At my Nephew’s first birthday party I tried to be the bigger person. He started his same old bullshit, this time the vulgarity and insults were directed at my son. It took everything in my entire being not to stab the fucker with the cake knife. I have explained to my Sister that I just can’t be around her father anymore. But what’s the alternative, don’t go? I’m supposed to miss my Sister’s graduation? This may be the only college graduation that my family ever sees. My son is so frustrated by this Senior project failure that he’s talking about not going to college now. Boom! There’s another hit, Mouse. How about another? Sure, why the hell not?
<span style="font-size: medium”>Let’s shed some tears for the situation that I have coming up with my Dad’s side of the family. There’s a reunion of sorts coming up. My scattered relatives will be getting together in June. Colorado family will be there. Sacramento cousins are coming down too. The problem is I’m barely speaking to my Dad. On the rare occasion that we do talk it’s through gritted teeth. Should I go to this once in a lifetime reunion knowing how awkward and uncomfortable this will be? I’m not close to any of these people. Very few of them have ever even met my son. Not that they will, I can’t bring him to this reunion even if I do go. My husband is already gonna have a fit that I want to go. There’s no way in hell he’ll let me take our son. When my husband finds out that the gathering will likely be at my gangster cousin’s mother’s house, it’s gonna rock this precarious marriage to its foundations again. My cousin is a true blue running drugs across the border, in and out of jail criminal. Is my husband so wrong to be concerned? If I don’t go to this reunion it’s very likely that my father will never forgive me. It’s possible that the door will close permanently on our twisted relationship. Is it time to let go? Is my Dad’s side of the family truly toxic? Why does my soul ache for family so much?
I contemplated going back inside and talking to my manager about taking the rest of the day off. Going home in hysterics would only start a whole different crisis because none of these emotional battles mean a thing to my husband. Money, sex, pot, and a clean house are the only things that enter my husband’s orbit. It’s hard to get across how important school and family is to someone that just doesn’t consider either one a priority. My hysterics only seem like insanity to him.
On and on my head swam with chaos and the tears flowed unchecked. I finally managed to reign it all in by telling myself that I was gonna end up trying to figure this all out jobless if I didn’t stop soon. My job is very flexible and I’m blessed to have it but just up and disappearing is one of the few things that’s frowned upon. Explaining my absence would be awkward enough so I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. I made a quick stop in the ladies room to throw some cold water on my puffy face. Oh lookit that! No line. Ugh.
I went about the rest of my day, working my ass off to keep myself too distracted to get the chance to let my head start thinking again. That’s the way it went for the rest of the night. Things feel better today but I am fully aware that nothing has changed. I’m still in the same state as I was yesterday in the car. All I’m doing now, is refusing to think about any of it. Pump those legs, Mouse. Run that little wheel as fast as you can. Maybe, if I run fast enough I will outrun the next storm. Good luck, right?
I don’t expect that anyone will have much to say about this entry. I’d actually be pretty fucking surprised if anyone made it all the way through. I will ask those that have any kind of advice to please feel free to chime in. I’m truly at a loss, and am in serious need of direction.