Miserable

Ugh.. I’ve got headache and I’m so exhausted. My daughter’s getting married on Sunday and so much has been going on. Right now I should be cleaning my house but I need to sit here and whine and complain first. I’m glad I have an online diary to moan to, that way I can spare my family a bit.

So here goes… let me gripe… Last Sunday night I was up late, like ’til about 11:00pm I can’t remeber why, but it had something to do with the wedding and plans, etc. This, of course, came after the bachelorette party on Friday night then getting to work at 7am Sat. AM then staying up late on Saturday night with my daughter while her fiance went to his bachelor party, then getting up for church on Sunday… So anyway, Monday morning I had to open the store so was up at 4:15 am. Monday night I was up taking care of family stuff until about 11 again, then opened on Tuesday, once again up at 4:15. That night my bride-to-be daughter came over and we worked on table cards the whole evening. She wasn’t happy with much so it went late. She and her fiance left at about 12:30, then I stupidly went in and got caught up reading somebody else’s diary until 1:30am. Both Monday and Tuesday afternoons I also ended up babysitting my very active granddaughter.

Wednesday I didn’t have to open but I had to drive my other daughter to open (we both work there) so was up at 4:30 am. Then went back to bed from 5:30-6:30 Son off to school, husband off to work then my granddaughter was dropped for babysitting, then my bride-to-be daughter arrived to work on cards and programs. She let me know what she wanted then took the granddaughter for a dress-fitting.

I worked on those d&*&&(&d cards and programs until 6:30PM!!!!!

At 2:30 pm my poor son came home from school, crying his eyes out. One of the kids in our neighborhood had threatened to beat him up. He was terrified to the point of sobbing, etc, So, I called the kid’s house. His Mom wasn’t home, but I did a sort of guilt trip thing on him. I reminded him of how nice our family had been to him throughout the summer. My husband had taken him to the pool with my son several times. He had come over here a few times and been treated with great snacks and pop, treated well (because I like to treat all of my son’s friends really well. I want them to want to come here because I feel more comfortable when my son is here with his friends than if he goes to someone else’s house… the diabetes, insulin reactions make me nervous.) He agreed that we had been good to him. I asked him, then, why was he picking on my son. He claimed that my son started it first (which is possible, sometimes his idea of humor is not the best). Anyway I said that I would tell my son not to talk to him, but he had to assure me he would leave my son alone as well, otherwise I would have to bring his mom and the school into it. He said he would leave my son alone. That seemed to make my guy feel better and we left it at that.

Being the youngest, my little boy doesn’t always know how to be tough. He’s been sort of babied all his life. I used to call him an only child with four parents since the girls are so much older than him. At the same time, I’ve got him off to church learning about God and Jesus. It’s very hard to balance all this stuff with encouragement to go ahead and kick somebody else’s a**.

My guy is pretty big for his age, but he is really not a violent kid and is pretty opposed to being hurt (aren’t we all), but he’s just not a tough kind of kid. He’s not a doughy fat kid either, but he’s just not tough. I’d say he’s pretty normal. It’s just hard to deal with this stuff. I think back on this bad movie called, The Hand that Rocks the Cradle. It starred Rebecca DeMornay and was about some lady trying to horn in on another lady’s life. It was unremarkable except for one scene. A schoolyard bully has been picking on the kid that Rebecca D. is nannying. Rebecca goes to the playground and grabs the kid’s swing or something. She gets real close to him and in a real quiet voice she says, “You bother her one more time and I’ll break your f***ing arm, you understand?” And the kid nods, scared and shocked. All the time I was raising the girls and now with my son, I daydream about doing that to some of the nasty bullies that they’ve encountered. Why are some kids so freakin’ mean. I just don’t understand it. I guess it shows how really primative man is at heart.

So after all that, I continued working on the wedding stuff, then cleaned up the house and desk somewhat, then finally took a glorious shower. My husband got dinner out for us and brought it home — that was wonderful!!! After some evening things we tucked the boy into bed and finally had some time together. We didn’t get to sleep until after midnight. Up again this morning, but at least I got to sleep until 6:30am. I was going to try to grap some extra sleep but the phone has been ringing off the hook so now I’m crabby, tired, and have a migrain building. I took my med though, so I think I have averted the crisis.

So looking back at what I’ve written here, I think to myself… no wonder sex isn’t the first thing on my mind unless I actively work to put it there.

I went back on prozac this morning. It has become obvious to me how much I really need it. My therapist seems to think I may have had a slight chemical imbalance all my life (and he should know, he’s seen me on and off for over 20 years). Prozac only came into the picture during the last two or three.

I noticed that being off of Prozac, I sure have been writing more. But I have been so emotional. Maybe it has to do with the exhaustion, but I can’t stand this roller coaster.

My brother called Tuesday night… the cocaine addict brother – although he says he’s clean. It’s so hard to talk to him. He can’t see any reason about what he has done to his family.

I’m working on a separate website to tell his story and will post the link here when it’s ready. That would be a diary in itself.

I’m hoping that even with the Prozac, if I keep fanning the fire, my sex drive will stay strong enough to sustain my marriage. I think I’d have no problem if I could lounge around in a hottub all day and read erotic literature. Unfortunately, real live keeps intruding. Oh well.