When you have the heart of a mother

Honestly, I’m not a father, as the world seems to have defined fathers. I am a mother, which I’ve always WANTED to be. I didn’t give birth to my daughters, nor did any part of my genetics or bodily functions contribute to their existence….but I am their Mom. They know it, too. We actually talk about it.

I’ve always seen fathers as people who have a great CAPACITY to love their children just as much as a mother does, but fathers, at least in my own view, do not EXHIBIT that capacity. They don’t show it. I tell my girls I love them alllllll the time. I tell my grandchildren alllllll the time, too…..as often as I get to interact with them.

Mothers, on the other hand…..now there is a special bunch of people. A mother…once again, in my own view….shows exactly how much she loves her children, by example, actions, and in words. Why would I want to be a father, rather than a mother?

Weird, huh? I’m soon to be 38 years old, 6’1", and way too heavy for my own good, with a deep, gravelly voice, and I want to be a mother.

Ok.  I’ll let up on that topic, at least for the moment.

The other day, I had a breathing test with my brand new pulmonologist. First one I’ve ever seen. I won’t know the results until April 16, my second appointment date. I’m rather frightened by finding out what they have to say, but I need to know what’s going on. It really feels like the tests they had me do made something break inside my lungs. I was flat-out SICK the next day, and now my chest hurts all the time. It almost feels like it did when I had pneumonia, which, at this point, would be a much BETTER thing to have than the alternatives I’m facing.

At least pneumonia can be treated and usually go away….though I know it’s not always so. But I’ve had it once before, so I think I could beat it again, if I had to. 

Ironically, the day I find out what’s up with my breathing is my nephew Hunter’s 5th birthday. Maybe that’ll be my good luck charm! 🙂

I had a really bad day yesterday. My face is all scratched up. I did it. I had a psychotic episode, out of the blue. It was triggered by someone being unkind to me, but I can’t blame it on the person..its my messed-up brain, not any person. Laurie kept telling me to come over to her, when she realized there was a problem. I refused, because I didn’t want to be touched. Finally, something snapped. Out of nowhere, from being depressed, came this insane rage. The bad thing about psychotic episodes is that I remember them, later. Anyway, I was depressed and telling Laurie that I felt like a total disaster as a human being. She was arguing it out with me, when I snapped. Some demonic-sounding part of me took over and screamed, "If your eye offends thee, pluck it out!", as I reached up and dragged my fingernails from the center of my forehead down to my chin. I will edit this entry later, to add a picture of what I did.

It’s getting LESS manageable, even though I’m on (and following) a regimen of meds again. Sometimes, I feel cursed. Then, some other times (like NOW), I feel like the curse can kiss my ass!!!!!