Blogs Are Stupid

Doesn't anyone believe in Dear Diary anymore? What happened to the joy of putting actual pen to paper? And why does every ordinary Jane and John think they can write well enough to burden the world with their scribblings? It’s a mystery that badly needs solving. My first entry contains my thoughts about blogging and will set your expectations. The rest will probably be stream of consciousness garbage, much like you’ll find on any other blog. Perhaps we will both come away enlightened.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

WARNING: A Whole FUCKLOAD of profanity....

....because it's like therapy for me so deal with it Pollyanna.

So...for a variety of reasons, I am currently mad at the world. Seriously, if you inhabit "the world", you are on my shit list today.

And I'm fantasizing about running away. Remember that woman who was in the news recently for reappearing after vanishing without a trace eleven years ago? She dropped off her kids at school, left dinner defrosting on the counter, laundry tumbling dry....and disappeared.

OH. MY. GOD. YEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. I wish had that woman's balls. She just couldn't deal, so she skedaddled.

And folks, that really sums it up. I just can't deal any more. For twenty years, I have put everybody's needs above my own. And I am so tired. So, so, so tired.

Fed up.

Pissed off.

Dis. Fucking. Gruntled.

I have two teenagers in my house, one of whom is a legal adult and thinks he has the wisdom and experience to conduct his life as he sees fit. Even though he lives in my house. Eats my food. Enjoys my internet, cellphone and cable television. Even though there is no way he could provide these things for himself. The other is just very, very, very fifteen. And unfortunately, Asperger's ups the puberty quotient about 110%.

Let's be clear. I know this is a phase. It's age appropriate behavior for the most part although I'm sure some are better and some are worse. I know I went through it too and I'm quite sure my mother was tempted to strangle me in my sleep as well. But that doesn't make it any easier to be treated day in and day out as though you exist only to serve their needs, and get absolutely nothing in return. To have your home, your belongings and your wallet appropriated, as if this is just the way it should be. To get complaints and protests and half assed effort when you ask for any help.

Example:

Me: "Please don't take my brush. It's the only one I have and when I'm hurrying to get ready for work, it's really annoying to have to go looking for it." 

Kid #1: "Okay."

Me (next day): Where is my brush?????

Kid #1: "In my car."

Me: "I asked you not to take it!"

Kid #1: "I needed it."

Or this one....

Kid #2: Can I have one of your water things?

Me: "No, those are expensive and I only bought a couple to treat myself this week."

Kid #2: "Okay".

Me: (next day) "What happened to all my flavored water?"

Kid #2. "I only drank one".

Those are small things. But a multitude of small things piling up day in and day out, all spell.......

(((FUCK YOU MOM))) 

It's not robbing a bank. It's not knocking someone up. It's not drinking and driving. But it's complete and total lack of regard for anything I say, anything I feel, anything I need. It's a total lack of concern, caring, and consideration for the one person who has always and forever put their needs above her own, since the day they were born. 

It's upsetting. 

Oh I know...you all are full of advice. You shouldn't let them get away with that!  We should take away this. We should remove that. We should stop allowing the other. We must discipline our children!

Save it. We've tried it all. We are not those Dr. Phil parents. We set limits. We impose consequences. We punish and ground and take away privileges. We are not patsies. And you may find this hard to believe, but someday, despite your best efforts, your kids will act like assholes too. Somebody once told me this is a purposeful thing on the part of evolution. It's necessary for them to act like assholes so we will shove them out of the nest and not be sad when we seem them plummeting to their doom.

We'll be all..."Good. Little fucker deserved a broken beak."

Which makes perfect sense. And in that respect, you have to kind of marvel at the simple brilliance of it.

Nevertheless. I'm over it. O.V. E.R. it.

So...just like when Mary Pautz and I were nine and we decided to run away to her garage attic to put the fear of God into our parents...I'm thinking about running away.

I don't even remember why we ran away. I'm sure there was some horrible, horrible transgression on the part of my parents. I wasn't allowed to watch Three's Company because my mother thought it promoted an immoral lifestyle. That really chapped my ass. So maybe it was that. Maybe it was because she wouldn't let me wear high heeled Candies for my third grade class picture. No, no wait....I remember. It's because she wouldn't let me send my babysitting money to the Sean Cassidy fan club. I wiped asses and noses for that money. I thought that I was well within my nine year old rights to buy Sean Cassidy's love with it if I so chose.

But I digress.

Tonight, things came to a head and I lost my shit big time. And then I left all of them to marinate in the aftermath and I went to soak in a hot tub. And while I was in there, I was fantasizing about how to engineer my escape.

I thought....I can go to Wisconsin. I can live in my Mom's house. I can....

Wait. I have no car. I have no job. I have no way to take care of myself. And the ONE person who would say..."It doesn't matter. Just come home. We'll figure it out."...is gone. The ONE  person who has consistently put MY needs before her own always and without fail....is gone. The ONE person who unquestionably cared about me more than herself...is gone.

And then the mad left.

And I cried for an hour.

Because that's a really sucky thing to realize. That nobody will ever love you like that again. Ever.

I don't even know how to end this. I guess that's it. Just that really horrible truth.

Fuck.

(I sort of feel a little better now. Funny how the blatant and repeated use of  the word FUCK will calm a bitch down, innit?)

19 Comments:

  • At 8:15 PM, Blogger Melissa Gillis said…

    This comment has been removed by the author.

     
  • At 8:43 PM, Blogger Margaret said…

    I think it would make it easier(NOT EASY AT ALL THOUGH) if you could vent to your mom. I miss my husband for that same reason; he truly cared and accepted me, ugly moods and all. I could share everything with him whereas with others, I'm a bit more guarded. Parenting is the most stressful and beastly (unpaid) job there is and I sympathize. I have no advice because I'm in the thick of it myself, except with a 23 and 27 year old. Don't mean to discourage you, but it never ends...

     
  • At 8:47 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Yes, Margaret, you are SO right. She always understood, even when I said ugly things about being a Mom. I can imagine it's hard being without Patt for the same reason. And you're right...it never ends. Hard to fathom that sometimes....

     
  • At 8:49 PM, Blogger the only daughter said…

    I feel you in every respect.

     
  • At 8:50 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Thanks Deb. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that!

     
  • At 11:04 PM, Blogger Amy Y said…

    I have a futon with your name on it if you want to run away to Colorado... Of course you'd have to be around my two boys, which may not be much better. But at least it'd be a change of scenery?

     
  • At 6:58 AM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Aw, thanks! I may just have to take you up on that one day. I head Colorado is beautiful this time of year....

     
  • At 9:14 AM, Blogger Ally said…

    I found your blog somehow [maybe through Margaret?] and like what and how you say what's on your mind. Yeah stream of consciousness.

    Sorry to learn that you are going through such a sucky time with your kids. No pithy advice to add. Just a hello, of sorts.

     
  • At 9:27 AM, Anonymous Lisa said…

    I like throwing things to relieve anger. But not breakable things, because then the clean-up is a bitch.

    Hoping things get better for you.

     
  • At 12:21 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    My anger usually gives way to grief too because I am smad to use a word my boys and I invented, it's when you're mad and sad you're smad, not really sore which it is so it's both.

    I miss my Mom too and my brother who died suddenly last year, he cared for me too and I feel very alone, but I'm not and neither are you, it's just hard to remember that sometimes.

    Take care xx Boliath xx

     
  • At 1:18 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Oh Ally, hello and I'm sorry. I don't usually swear so indiscriminately. I wish you had visited on a day that I posted something urbane and sophisticated instead of petty and vulgar. But welcome!! And I hope I didn't scare you off.

     
  • At 1:19 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Boliath, I'm sorry about your brother. That must be so hard for you! And you're right. I'm not alone. Smad. I think you might have something there...

     
  • At 3:06 PM, Blogger vmoody@gmail.com said…

    I am with you all the way. When my Dad died, I thought the same thing. I thought "Oh shit. My marriage better work out cause I have no back up now!" My marriage was fine then and it's fine now, but my life long safety net is gone. And my little thankless heathens push me to the edge often, too. I swear I know why people drink and I understand the need for valium. That said, I love my kids. Lots. However, I often dislike them. I say it is time for respite therapy.... Girls' night out anyone?
    -Vanessa

     
  • At 7:18 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Sounds great to me Vanessa, just say the word! (and thanks for the validation).

     
  • At 7:25 PM, Blogger Mysit said…

    So it's not just me? I'm about ready to boot my 19 yr old out of this house. The 17 yr old gets another year but neither of them should ask me for * shit* for awhile because after coming home to not *one* chore around here done, *plus* I had to go feed and water the animals - in the blowing dirt! no less, I am *done.* Hmph. Brats.

    Hmm. That wasn't very helpful was it? Unless it helps you see that it's not just you, and it's not just me.

     
  • At 7:42 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    It was helpful. It's not just you. And it's not just you. It's us. And that's good to know. ((fist bump))

     
  • At 9:17 PM, Blogger Blog Antagonist said…

    Whoops, supposed to say, "It's not just you and it's not just me. It's us."

     
  • At 7:43 PM, Blogger Any name said…

    Oh shit, their only 13 & 9 and some days I'm ready to leave.

    Tonight was a good night the older cooked dinner. Ney, demanded to cook dinner. At the moment, I'm a little peeved at my spouse, but he's clueless so I'm left to determine if it's really something I want to trifle with or whether chocolate will solve it.

    Hang in there!

     
  • At 2:31 PM, Anonymous aradcliffe@comcast.net said…

    Oh my gosh you have no idea how much I relate to this post. You wrote what was in my mind and going on in my house with two highschoolers. Lost my shit two days ago. My hand still hurts from slamming it on my table while telling my kids how much it sucks to be treated like crap from two people I care so much about and do so much for (cue violin). Then I went outside and sat on my porch with a glass of wine and cried and thought about how few people I could talk to about it. So many of the same feelings you've expressed here.

     

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