So, last I wrote I had a disability hearing in front of a judge along with my attorney. I recieved word about two weeks ago that they were denying my case. again! *sigh* So what does this mean? It means I have to wait for my attorney to figure out whether or not they feel as though I have a case to appeal it. I waited about a week and a half and they finally gave me word. They said there is reasons to believe the case should be appealed. They filed my appeal and the next step is waiting. It could take 6 to 36 months before I hear anything back. Yep. A possibility of three years. Fucking lovely. So until then, I have to work a maximum of $1000/month. FOR THE NEXT THREE YEARS! How on earth am I supposed to make a living working so little?

Its alright though. I can’t work more than that now as is anyways. My bipolar disorder is too rough for me to cope right now and I’m having a VERY hard time at work. I’m speeding through the call, making tons of mistakes. When I get something like a last name, I’m repeating it back wrong. I can’t get a perfect QA (quality assurance) for the life of me. I barely stay my entire shift. As matter of fact, I only work 15 hours a week, I am lucky if I make 10 of those hours a week. We have a thing called VTO (voluntary time off). When you start your shift, or whenever actually, you can sign up for what time you want to leave. If its slow and no ones getting calls the managers allow the people that signed up for VTO to go home. Needless to say, I sign up almost every day. Is painfully addicting. Even when I know I have a wedding to save for, and bills to pay, I leave. I just can’t cope.

So that’s what s going on with disability. Just another waiting game to see if I’ll qualify for it. Basically, they don’t want to have to pay me for it. Not only would I be getting a check but both the kids would be getting a check every month too. They don’t want to have to pay that.

So, what’s going on today? Since I’ll be writing on a daily/weekly basis I suppose I can tell you how I’m doing right now. I’m dealing. I just got Mikhail down for a much needed nap. Nickolas is over at a little boys house in the apartment building. I haven’t seen much of him lately. He’s been gone playing at one apartment or another. Mike and I are doing well. His truck is still out of commission. Which is entirely frustrating because I would really like my car back. He takes my car to work with him during the day. I take the car to work with me at night. We need two vehicles. What happens if something happens to one of the kids and they have to go to the hospital? He’s really touchy about it. I asked him about it yesterday and he practically bit my head off. I won’t be doing that again. Hopefully someday soon he’ll have it all fixed up. Then he can sell it for all I care. I just want my car back. Dammit, I paid with my own money for that car. Its mine.

Well, that concludes today’s entry. Leave comments if you’d like. More comments I get the more likely I’ll continue to update. Look at me, basically begging for comments. Pitiful. Oh well, that’s me. ^_^

When I was dating Nick’s father, in the beginning it was romantic. He would take me downtown to the marina so we could sit on the giant boulders in the warm summer nights. The cool breeze coming off the lake would send shivers down my spine. The crashing waves spraying us with a light shower of water. He would hold me there and everything seemed so right. That was before he changed. Before something dark happened in his heart. I found out I was pregnant with the child he begged me to have. I became ill. He didn’t take care of me. I’d eat merely one time a day and that was only after I’d beg him to go get food since his Mother didn’t keep any in the house. He became cold and distant. He wanted nothing to do with me.

One cold, winter night, he wanted to hang out with his friend. He demanded I come along even though I was throwing up constantly from the sickness I received due to the pregnancy. Without having a choice I went along with him. We had an old station wagon that he got for free as a means of transportation. The car was a piece of shit. There were rust holes all the way through the doors. Him and his friend had taken cans of neon spray paint to put their names on the car. For fun he’d put empty soda bottles out the rust holes. It was disastrous. The worse problem of all about this death machine was the exhaust system.  The exhaust broke on the car when he purposely hit a ridiculously large bump in the road. It cracked the pipes. The exhaust having no where to go would leak in to the inside of the car. It was so bad when you left the car it had smelled like you got out and rolled around in a gallon of gasoline. Your clothes wreaked. Our assumptions to make things better were to drive with the windows wide opened so we can get fresh air in the car and not die from the toxic fumes.

When we picked up his friend, there was a rule I must follow. You must go in the back seat. My friend (I’m trying not to use names) must sit in the front by me. I sat in the back. We drove around for hours aimlessly. I began getting sicker and sicker. The fumes in the back of the car was worse. I only had a light sweatshirt on and I was absolutely freezing from all the air pouring in from their windows. I decided to lay down in the backseat and see if I could get some sleep. It was almost 3am and I was dead tired, pregnant, and deathly ill.
I must have passed out for a while because next thing I knew I hit the ceiling of the car and fell down behind the front drivers seat on the floor. Matt and his friend were laughing so hard and pulled the car to a stop. He purposely ran the car in to a ditch because he made a bet. There was a guardian angel that day. There was a truck that came out of no where. We were in the middle of no where. And here comes this truck. He pulls up, gets out of the car, attaches a tow strap to his truck and pulls us out. He doesn’t say anything to us. Never shows his face. And drives off.

This was only one of the times I spent in the backseat of this ‘death machine’. I probably spent 3-4 nights a week in the backseat of this fumigated piece of shit on wheels going around aimlessly with him and his friends. So many painful memories. So much pain and hurt and regret and resentment comes up when I think of how poorly I was treated when I was pregnant with the baby he begged me to have but I didn’t want.

And now … NOW! Whose the one caring for this child? Whose the one there every single day for this child when things go bad? Who cheers him on when he’s doing good? Who deals with him when his ADD and ADHD is out of control? Who holds him when he calls his father on the phone and he doesn’t get a response and he cries and cries? YOU WANTED HIM!!! NOW HE’S HERE! GOD DAMMIT! BE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR WISHES!

For the most part, I enjoy being a parent. I’m not going to lie though, there are times where I down right hate it. I’m a young mom, having Nick at 16, I understand the struggles of being a teenage mom dealing with the hardships of parenting. Being that I have bipolar disorder also it makes things real difficult at times. Here are a few things that I deal with that I honestly believe will drive me to an ultimate insanity.

1. Mikhail’s obsession with the kitchen. We have a baby gate in both doorways of our kitchen. One you can walk through, and one you cannot walk through. Mikhail isn’t heavy enough to open the gate that you can walk through. Instead, he jumps on the lever until he builds enough momentum to get through. There are two things about the kitchen that drive me nuts.
   • Mikhail will take the dining room chair, very carefully through the gate. He will then turn on the light. Move the chair to play in the running faucet and any dishes that are in the sink until he is completely covered head to toe in water. This drives me nuts.
   • The following thing that Mikhail does in the kitchen is the main reason why I’m writing this blog post in the first place. Words cannot express how annoyed I become having to deal with this every 20 minutes on a daily basis. Mikhail is indecisive. He will pull me in to the kitchen. Since he does not talk he will point to the light switch. I will turn on the light. He will then ask to be picked up and placed on the counter top to be near the snack cabinet. He will turn on the over the stove light and fan. He will open the cabinets and stare in them for 10 minutes. He will then turn around, look at me, and grunt like he wants something. I then have to pick up each item, one by one, and show him. Chips? I show to him. He shakes his head or says no. Crackers? Nooo. Twenty-five items later. He has said no to all of them. He’s not down though. He wants to do it again. Fifteen minutes has passed and I begin this all over again. Chips? He grabs for them. SUCCESS! He points to a bowl. I give him some chips. He comes off the counter top. Takes his bowl and goes in to the other room. So, I’m ecstatic that’s over. But wait, half an hour later, what does he do? He drags me in to the kitchen and does it all over again. I seriously have to do this over 50 times a day. This drives me so crazy words cannot describe how nuts I get.
2. Nick’s noise level. I know “Boys will be boys.” but OMG. Nickolas’ noise level is through the roof. I can hear him no matter what room I am in.  He doesn’t talk, he screams. When he’s not screaming his words he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. This drives me nuts.
3. Nick’s inability to clean his room. “Go clean your room” is the biggest task in the world to him. To Nick, it means go in your room, pick up exactly three items. Place them in a different spot of the room. Come back out in the living room and say “its clean”. We, in return, say, “Go back in there and clean it right.” Now, repeat this process over forty times before you have to physically get up and go in his room and point at every single toy, tell him to pick that item up, tell him where it goes, and repeat until clean. This is more than likely due to his ADHD but still, it drives me nuts.
4. Nick’s inability to follow simple, direct commands. “Nick, pick up the box behind you.” He will bend down and look in front of him. “No, Nick, BEHIND YOU.” He will look to his sides still bent over. “NICKOLAS BEHIND YOU. THE BOX BEHIND YOU!!!” He will look around and say, “There is no box, Mom.” Livid, you yell, “NICKOLAS LISTEN TO WHAT I AM TELLING YOU. THERE IS A BOX BEHIND YOU. TURN AROUND. LOOK DOWN. NOW PICK UP THE BOX!” *smacks forehead* This happens all the time, for every very direct command or request you give to him.
5. Mikhail’s inability to fall asleep on his own. Mikhail refuses to go to sleep on his own. Now, the kids have a TV in their room. One in which they watch before bed. I have no problem with this. The noise soothes them and usually keeps them asleep through the night. If it helps keep them asleep, whatever I don’t care.  With that being said, here is how every single night’s routine happens.  Around 8pm, the boys are in bed. That is the rule. I place Mikhail in his crib, Nick under the covers. I go to walk out the door and close it slightly behind me. Then I hear it, blood curdling screaming. *sigh* I turn back around, and see Mikhail pointing on Nick’s bed. Here we go for another night. I lay down in bed next to Nickolas, I place my hand through the crib bars. Mikhail will then lay his head down on my open palm. He’ll watch tv for a while. Nick usually passes right out. If after twenty-thirty minutes pass and he doesn’t seem to be going to sleep anytime soon, I get up, turn off the tv. I will lay back down next to Mikhail, place my hand underneath his head and wait. Usually waiting occurs for anywhere between twenty minutes to two hours. It depends on how restless he is, and how much he’s fighting his sleep. I wish I could break him of this. This drives me nuts.

Now, before you want to bash me for my thoughts on MY parenting…
Please take note, I understand my parenting techniques aren’t the greatest, but I’m young, and I’m learning. I also am well under the impression I need more patience. I suffer from bipolar disorder, which includes an extreme case of rage. I have anger issues. I take pills for it. I’m working on it. So with that being said, what are your thoughts? What are your annoyances with parenting.

I’ll be including more segments of this newest article on Eternal Amour. Thanks for letting me rant and rave. More coming soon !

Christmas is coming. Mike and I tried to save up. Okay, we saved $260 specifically for Christmas. Here’s what we got so far for the kids:

Mikhail – My first RC car
Semi-truck car holder
Little People’s Garage

Nickolas – A new bike
Lego Batman game
(He’s also getting a Nintendo DS from Grandma, along with a few games.)

Shared – Massive box of lego blocks.

We have $100 left to spend and completely unsure of what else to get them. The kids have everything. I’ll quote a friend here when I say, “It looks like Toys R Us had a tornado in their bedroom.” The kids have everything they could want. Nick has 200+ DVDs, puzzles, tons of books, loads of board games (he don’t take care of them otherwise I would buy him more), a Tag Reading System, a Leapster gaming system, (2) gameboy advanced systems. More toys than I can count. Mikhail doesn’t have many toys. I couldn’t possibly buy them a single outfit because their dressers are so full they’re bursting. I can’t even put half their clothes in them. Majority of the clothes are sitting on top of the dressers because they don’t fit. Honestly, what the hell do you buy children that have EVERYTHING?

So, I have the dilemma of what else do I get them. Then, it pulls on my heart strings they’re not getting a lot this year. Mike and I just didn’t save up enough. The stuff they’re getting are BIG items. So, is that enough? I have $100 left to get a few more things. Toys are so damn expensive now a days.

Why does this bother me so much? I mean, you bought them a lot. A new bike!? That is more than most kids get. My parents stopped Christmas when I was a very young. Okay, actually my Mom stopped Christmas when I was only 7 or 8 years old. My Dad stopped buying for me meaningful gifts when I had children. My family has a rule, when you have children, you’re done getting gifts. Your children get your gifts. Fine, understandable. I mean, you can’t afford to buy for both. I get it. Last year my Dad gave me this plastic paper sorter. That they found at a rummage sale. It had so much dust on it that it was grey instead of black. That’s what I got. Meaningful, eh? That’s why Christmas bothers me so much for my kids. I want to be sure they get everything they want. Once again, what do you get a child that has everything? No matter what I’ll be spending that remaining $100 on them equally. Is that going to be enough? Is it enough to call it a good Christmas? These are things I worry about.

That was yesterday. Today, Matt called and we got in to it again. I honestly don’t even know what was all said. We exchanged words for at least an hour. To sum it up, Matt denied every hitting me in front of Nickolas when we were together. He kept hanging up on me because “he didn’t want to raise his voice in front of his son at home”. Which was complete and utter bull shit because he used to scream at me at the top of his lungs causing Nick, who was a newborn at the time, to cry hysterically.

I told Matt, “I’m not taking your abuse anymore. I’m no longer with you. I’m no longer under your control. You can sit here and insult me or belittle me but I refuse to take it anymore.” He hung up on me again. Why? He had his girlfriend listening on speakerphone. He didn’t want her to hear our past.

When he called back I asked why he kept hanging up on me and he said that the past is the past. I’m not allowed to speak of anything of the past. We are allowed to only speak of things regarding Nickolas. Fucking whatever. I just don’t want him to control Nickolas like he did me.

Whatever. So, he brought up the fact that he’s going ot fight for custody *again*. It’s becoming an empty threat. I told him, very calmly, “Please. Go ahead. Fight for custody. I’ll be awaiting the paperwork saying you’re serving me to a hearing. Until then I’m not holding my breath. If you feel as though Nickolas is better off at your house, fight for custody. Until then, I’m not letting you have him. I don’t trust you.”

“You can’t do that. I have police documentation stating so as long as I have a court order granting me rights to see Nickolas, I can. I just have to give you a twenty-four hour notice before taking him. I can take him whenever I wont. However long I want to. There’s nothing you can do about it. If you want to fight it, I’ll contact the police and they can come arrest you for not following court orders.”

He was right. I know the whole process. Our court orders state he is granted visitation at a reasonable time upon reasonable request. There wasn’t shit I can do about it.

I explained to him that we’d be gone a lot during the month of July because we have a lot of events that I want Nickolas to attend. I told him we’d be going up north for about two weeks. He wanted to know exactly the date in which we were leaving. I told him.

“Fine, I’ll take Nickolas until the 9th of July. This is my twenty-four hour notice. I will be picking him up in exactly twenty-four hours. I will be keeping him until the 9th of July. You can’t do nothing about it.”

I demanded that he doesn’t stay that long. I don’t trust he’ll be okay that long. I always try to give Matt the benefit of the doubt that he won’t harm, or put Nickolas in harms way, while having him. I mean, that’s all I can do right? I don’t have absolutely any say in what Matt does or doesn’t do with Nickolas while he’s in his care. All I can do is hope and pray that he’s treating him right.

I told him that he had a doctors appointment and he said he’d keep him until the 1st then. Which is one full week. What can I do? Nothing. So, I guess Nickolas will be gone to Matt’s house until a week from now. He came and picked him up right away because Nickolas wanted to see his Dad.

I think the worse thing about all of this is in Nickolas’ eyes, Matt is a saint. He buys him everything he wants. He takes him to exciting places every single day. Matt is lost in this “perfect family” world now that he has his rich new girlfriend and possibly a new child – which I still don’t believe is his.

He made some smart ass comment about how I do nothing. I’m a retarded bipolar nutcase that don’t know how to take care of my children let alone take care of myself. “You’re a scrub. You don’t dress yourself in any thing but your pajamas. You don’t take care of yourself. Look you already rotted all your teeth out of your head. You’re nothing. You’re scum. I refuse to let you treat Nickolas that way. I buy him everything. You get $230 a month in child support. Why the hell doesn’t this kid have name brand clothing???”

Whatever Matt.

I’m losing all energy to listen and fight with him. I’m warning everyone right now …

Someday, I will snap.
I’ll finally break down and just snap. When I do, I will have the absolute  most intense and the worse break down I’ve ever had in my entire life. I don’t know what will happen at this point but I know that it’s not going to be too far away. My strength to fight him is gone. My strength to ignore him is gone. My strength in general towards everything pertaining him is gone.

I cannot continue my life doing this. I’m screaming out loud for help. I’m telling everyone around me. I will snap one day. I don’t know how to stop myself. A person can only be pushed so far before breaking in two. What would you do if you had to deal with this on a daily basis? Would you be strong? Sure, I’m strong. Sure, I’ve dealt with this for the past seven years, but seven years is a LONG time to just swallow my pride and my emotions regarding this. Eventually, they’re going to explode. I’m going to end up in the hospital for a few weeks, in jail, or dead.

At this point, I have no idea what I want to do. I don’t know/think I have the strength to fight for this anymore. A part of me wants to say, “Get off your fat lazy ass. You don’t need disability benefits, its an easy way out. You need to get the fuck over it and go get a god damn job. Figure out daycare. Figure out food stamps. Get off state benefits and fucking do something with your life instead of sitting around “collecting welfare” and being a bum.” … Now, is that me talking, or my delusions of what everyone else thinks of me? Probably both.

I also scheduled to start seeing a psychotherapist again. Hopefully this one doesn’t fall asleep on me. I don’t see them until August. Mainly because July is a ridiculously busy month for us with our trip and vacation and everything else going on. I really don’t know how this is going to work. I mean, I have to go for weekly appointments at an office that is twenty minutes away. I don’t have the resources to go to these appointments every single week. Sure, I can schedule around Lynn’s (Mike’s Mom) schedule and just have her watch the kids while I go to my appointments, but I hate having to ask her for everything. She says she don’t mind, but seriously, would you want to watch the kids every single week, sometimes on your only day off? What choice do I have in the matter? I need to see one again. I probably will have to see one for the rest of my life. I’ll probably be on medication for hte rest of my life.

My bipolar disorder is progressively getting worse and worse by the day. I’m becoming aware of so many huge red flags that keep going up. I don’t even know what I think about it anymore. I’m in a massive mixed state episode and it’s bad. Guess we’ll see what happens, right? I’m going to have to reschedule the current appointment I have, and see where I go from here.

I need a therapist for disability. I need a doctor whose going to be on my side and help me get this. I need it. I either need it or I need to get off my ass and go beg for my job back.

Life can kiss my ass.

Today I was over at Mike’s mom’s house because she wanted us to come along while she took the cat to be groomed and go shopping. Basically the cat groomer is 40 minutes away so she shops while she waits, didn’t want to do it alone. We got to talking and she was talking about how Nickolas acts when he comes down off his Adderall. Long story short, when he comes down off his medication, he becomes highly emotional. We were discussing how Matt doesn’t want him on it; at least, he said he didn’t want him on it prior when I brought it up. He was unaware I had him medicated. It all made perfect sense when she said, “Just imagine what that puts Nickolas through. He comes off his medications and he’s so exhausted so early because of what’s going on with him. Imagine how exhausting and hard that is for him. If Matt doesn’t give his medication then he has to go through that. You have to tell Matt to get on the bandwagon with this.”

“You don’t understand Lynn, Matt will refuse. He is adamant about not giving Nickolas medications. He refuses and doesn’t believe or agree with it.”

Upon thinking about it for a while I decided to just get it done and over with. I don’t want Nick to have to go through that emotional rollercoaster that happens when he’s off his medication just because his Dad doesn’t believe in it.

I called him up and in the nicest way I told him. “Matt, I wanted to let you know that Nickolas is currently on medication.”

“FOR WHAT?!”

“For his ADD. I took him to his doctor and we sat down and did some talking and he said there was no doubt in his mind that he had it. We spoke for a good twenty minutes about it and he said he didn’t even have to do testing. Just by witnessing what was going on with Nickolas during our conversation he had no doubt that he had ADD.”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT! All doctors say kids have ADD. It’s because you’re too damn lazy to take care of Nick. You just want him sitting in front of the TV, on Ritalin drooling. That’s all you fucking want. I cannot believe in twenty minutes you could have a doctor diagnose him. How the hell could he diagnose him in twenty minutes!? THERES NOTHING SAYING HE HAS TO TAKE THIS MEDICINE. YOU want him to take these pills. “

“Matt, his doctor and I have been discussing this for years. When he was two we figured it was just a phase. When he was three we thought it was just a phase. Then again at four, then five, now at six he diagnosed him REALIZING it wasn’t a phase. We have been going over this for years now! Nickolas has it. Accept it. Sometimes, it’s that way. He can’t be perfect. I can’t be perfect. Not everyone is perfect. You’re so controlling everyone has to be this perfection you want them to be. I have bipolar. I have to take pills. It’s something I HAVE to deal with. You of ALL people should know this.” Whoops. That is NOT something I wanted to come out of my mouth. Fuck.

“NO! I will NOT accept it. This is fucking bull shit. I have absolutely NO problem with him. He’s a perfect angel for me. Just because you’re fucked in the head and need pills doesn’t mean our son is! “

“Uhm, Matt! You have Nickolas for twenty-four to forty-eight hours TOPS at a time. Of course he’s going to be a perfect angel. Take him for a week I guarantee he will behave for you exactly how he acts for me. He’s a perfect angel for you because you let him do whatever he wants.”

“No! He acts out with you because he’s fucking BORED. You sit there and put him in front of the TV or the computer and have him sit there all day long. He doesn’t do ANYTHING with you. Get off your fat lazy ass and take him somewhere. And it doesn’t cost money either. WALK him to the park. Get off your fucking ass, walk him to the damn park up the block and let him fucking play. I guarantee he don’t act out then. You act as though I fucking take him everywhere and spend all this money.”

“Matt, you do! You take him for a week I guarantee you don’t take him somewhere every single moment of every single day.”

He blew up at this point. “I guarantee I have him for five days, I will spend those five days taking him places and doing things with him. I don’t understand why the fuck you can’t do SHIT with him.”

“Who says I don’t Matt? Want to know what we did today? We went to the stores all morning then he spent the entire afternoon swimming?”

“What? While he was at Lynn’s house?”

“What the fuck does that matter?” Remind you, the entire time I was on speaker phone because to be honest, I knew he was going to be like this. I knew word for word this is exactly what he was going to say. I did it to sort of show Lynn, see this is how he treats me. This is why I can’t push him to give him his medication. He does whatever he wants and he gets away with it.

“It doesn’t. So what? You did one fucking thing. You know what you’re not going fucking nowhere. I take him places. We do things together. I have a fucking perfect job. I have a trophy wife. I have a great family. We do things together. I’m going to buy a house. We have Nickolas his own bedroom. I’m fighting for custody. That’s it. I can’t stand him living with your ass no more. You can’t fucking take care of him. You don’t take care of him. I’m going to fight until the death for full custody. Your ass don’t fucking do a god damn thing for him anyways.”

“Fine. Fucking fight me for custody. I don’t even care anymore. Go for it. I guarantee you don’t get it anyways. You don’t have a bedroom for him. You live in a one bedroom loft apartment. There’s no room for Nickolas. You won’t get him.”

“You know what Nikkole. GROW THE FUCK UP AND GET A GOD DAMN EDUCATION AND FUCKING DO SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIFE. You’re fucking nothing. You’re not going anywhere. You’re not going to be anything. You’re uneducated. You have no house. You’re going to live in apartments all your life. You’re not employed. You have no education. You have a shitty car. You’ll always have a shitty car. You’ll always have a shitty apartment. You’ll never have a job, and if you do it will be nothing. YOU RELY ON A MAN FOR EVERYTHING. YOU CAN’T FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. YOU NEED SOMEONE THERE TAKING CARE OF YOU. OR YOU SIT ON YOUR ASS AND COLLECT FUCKING WELFARE. GET OFF WELFARE. GET OFF YOUR ASS. STOP LETTING MEN TAKE CARE OF YOU AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND YOUR FUCKING KIDS. “

At this point… I lost it. You can only be pushed so far and hard before you absolutely break down and give up. I screamed in to the phone, not caring that Lynn was there, or my kids were near, “IT’S YOUR FAULT! I WAS FIFTEEN YEARS OLD WHEN YOU ARE THE ONE THAT CAUSED ME TO DROP OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL. YOU’RE THE REASON I DROPPED OUT. YOU’RE THE REASON I HAVE NO EDUCATION. YOU’RE THE REASON I WON’T GO ANYWHERE IN LIFE. IT’S YOUR FUCKING FAULT.”

“Oh, so because I got you pregnant at sixteen it’s my …”

*Click* I hung up. I then broke down, and proceeded to cry and cry. Lynn said nothing. She didn’t mention it. She didn’t say a word to me. I sat there repeating back every single thing he said to me over and over and over again. He told me every single insecurity I have and confirmed it in my head.

He controlled me when we were dating. He controls me now.

He says whatever he wants. He gets to me. He knows this. There’s not a god damn thing I can do about it. There’s nothing I can say to make myself believe what he says isn’t true.

Imagine this… Think of the number one thing you’re the least proud of. Do you think that you’re stupid? Then do you tell yourself over and over to make yourself believe you’re not? Well, now that you believe you’re not, have someone your ex that burned you worse than you’ve ever been burned tell you that you’re stupid. You’re going to listen. You’re going to feel shitty. You’re going to now believe that you are in fact stupid because another person confirmed it for you. That’s exactly how I felt. Everything that I believe is true:

I’m fat. I’m lazy. I do nothing for my kids because my bipolar physically, emotionally, and mentally drains me to the point of not giving a flying fuck what the kids do during the day. I’m not going to be anything. I’m not going to go anywhere. I’m never going to own a house. I’m never going to have the nice car. The nice clothes. The nice things. “My standards are set low.” I’m always going to depend on someone taking care of me.

I promised myself after him I’d never be dependent of another man for as long as I live. What do you know? I’m dependent of Mike. Without him, I have no idea what I’d do.

I would like to be that parent that spends time with her kids. I want to be the parent that sits there and colors for hours and plays. To be honest, I can’t. I don’t know how. I have to FORCE myself to spend time with them. I know there are people out there saying, “If you want to spend time with your kids then just do it.” I CAN’T. Maybe it’s even that I don’t want to. I have no desire to do SHIT when it comes to anyone. I just want to crawl in to my little hole of bipolar bull shit and fucking withers away to nothing. I don’t want friends. I don’t want kids. I don’t want a fiancé. I honestly just have no idea how to handle any of it.

What kind of worthless piece of shit parent thinks that way!? I don’t want my kids half the time because I can’t handle them because of my bipolar? Bring in social services, take them away now. That’s what’s going to end up happening because I’m too god damn fucking honest. FUCK! I don’t want to be like this. I want to be a good mom. I want to not be depressed. I want to get off my fat lazy ass and do something. I DON’T KNOW HOW. I don’t know how to force myself to do it.

Did you hear that? I have to FORCE myself to spend time with my own children. I’m a sad excuse of a parent. I’m a sad worthless excuse of a person.

Everything Matt said was true.

… I don’t even know what else to write.

EDIT: … the ending got a little emotional. I typed so fast to the point I don’t even know what even came out. My mind went blank, so I ended it.

This morning, I’ve been more upset than I ever have been with Nickolas. I have no idea where to turn. I don’t know what to do. I have hit this point where I’m seriously left without answers. My mind is in a constant argument with itself regarding everything I do as a parent. I second guess the choices I’ve made. I worry myself until literally making myself puke with whether I’m doing “it right”. I lay awake at night for hours wonder what I’ve done wrong.

I might remind you, we took him to the doctor when he was 4 years old, and told him we were having issues with him listening and doing what he’s told. The doctor said, “He’s a normal 4 year old boy.” So, we haven’t gone back with it because he said the same thing at age 5. Nickolas is now six years old. He’s in kindergarten for the first time. He has a new brother at our house (who is a year old, so he’s accepted that and the idea has grown on him). He also suddenly was throw in to a new situation when Matt (his dad) got a new girlfriend, who was apparently 6 months pregnant, and then suddenly he had a new brother at his house. Matt moved out of his Mom’s, into his girlfriends, with his new alleged son, and Nick was just taken for the ride.

This is what we’re currently experiencing…

• Every single time, without fail, I’m talking every single time he eats any meal at the table. He gets up. He will not just sit down and eat a meal! I’ve tried everything. I’ve tried no tv while he eats (which makes it worse) I’ve tried sitting next to him and telling him “sit down” every time he has the urge to get up. I’ve tried taking away his plate telling him when you get up, it means you’re done. I’ve come to the point if I have to say “Nickolas, sit down and eat your food” one more time, I’m going to lose it. I’m going to have mental breakdown and lose all patience and everything else I could possibly have left. This drives me CRAZY.
• He does that with nearly everything though. You tell him to do something, he does NOT do it. It’s like he doesn’t comprehend what the fuck you’re trying to say or telling him to do. Now, don’t get me wrong, he is an EXTREMELY smart little boy. All of his teachers have noticed the same thing; He knows what you’re telling him to do. He understands what you’re telling him to do. He will even repeat, word for word, what you’ve asked of him. Will he do it? No. He will do the exact opposite to be exact.
• We have three rules in my house. Do not touch your brother. Listen to Mike and Mom. Follow directions. That’s all. We have the “do not touch your brother” rule in place because he likes to push him around, follow him, and quite frankly it pisses off Mikhail to the point where he’ll smack him and NICK goes crying. I don’t think we are asking too much of him. To me sometimes it feels like all we’re doing is ask him to do to this and that AND that’s with ignoring A LOT.
• As for discipline: This is what we’ve tried.
  1. Going to your room and taking a brief time out (usually its about 5-10 minutes depending on how long it takes for him to chill out.) This doesn’t work because unless we’re sitting there, completely ignoring him while he screams and cries. He will get up and play with his abundance of stuff.
  2. Sit on the “naughty spot” for time outs. We’ve done this, but he’s beat the system. He will sit there, patiently and good during those 6 minutes of time out. Say he’s sorry, then he’s RIGHT BACK to doing whatever it was that caused him on a time out in the first place. *smacks forehead*
  3. Take away toys. We have taken away toys, movies, dvd player, tv, etc. At one point in time, he was left with nothing but books in his room and of course his furniture.
  4. Spend more time with him – Don’t give me that shit. I was raised to know that it was PERFECTLY acceptable that I played, in my room, ALONE, all day long. I used my imagination. I made up games. I didn’t have to have my parents giving me attention, all day, all night. He needs to learn that, ALL KIDS NEED TO LEARN THAT. I’m going to end this one at that… I have quite the rant about the bull shit parents today in society is teaching their kids. Honestly, my generation is FUCKED when it comes to raising kids. Do we raise them the way OUR parents raised them, we turned out alright. Or do we coddle them, hold their hands, and do the BULL SHIT way society wants kids raised now. Ahem, society – you have all these statistics about how kids are being raised and how its effecting their lives. So us parents, change the way we are raising them so we’re not frowned upon from society – and the kids get worse. Guess what, your methods SUCK ASS.
  5. We’ve done the star chart rewards system where he gets to put a star on if he’s good. He takes a star off if he’s bad.

Alright, basically, here’s my dilemma. I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing wrong. “Take him to a doctor and get him checked out, it could be out of your hands and it could be ADHD.” Fine whatever. I don’t want my kid hopped up on medication causing him to drool and look like a zombie. KIDS NEED TO BE KIDS NOW A DAYS – THEY’RE NOT ALLOWED TO BE ANYMORE! (once again, that rant is for another day)

So, all I want to know is – how the hell do I get him to fucking listen THE FIRST TIME I ask him to do ANYTHING?! He listens, but he doesn’t FOLLOW THROUGH. I’ve began living my life as a mother continuously repeating every single word I had to say.

“Nickolas please sit down and eat.”

“Nickolas. I said to sit down and just finish eating.”

“NICK! Please! Sit down and eat!”

“If you get one ONE MORE TIME you’re done eating for the rest of the night. I’m tired of this. Just sit down at eat!”

How about this one… which happened this morning. UGH!

“I’m full Mom.”

“Fine, throw away your plate, that is ALL you’re going to get until lunch.”

“Fine. I’m full anyways.”

… about 20 minutes later, Mike and I were in the boys bedroom fixing his curtain and getting Mikhail ready to take a nap. We come out to find Nickolas has gotten one of his school snacks – which he KNOWS is off limits – opens it and started to eat it.

“What are you doing? We said you are not getting anything else until lunch! You didn’t finish your breakfast! That was all you’re getting!”

“But I wanted it.”

“I don’t care if you wanted it or not! Those are for school, not to be eating anytime. Besides, WE JUST DISCUSSED that you are NOT getting ANYTHING until lunch!”

… I proceed to lose it. I honestly was RAGING. Call it the mania. Call it whatever. I was upset, and mad, and I couldn’t calm myself down. Before I said anything I’d regret to my son, I went into the bedroom and calmed myself down saying everything I had to say in the pillow.

Christ. I’m doing the best I can. I’m honesty lost. I know that my “methods of parenting” aren’t the greatest – What can you expect from someone who suffers from bipolar disorder, social anxiety, and uncontrollable rage. I do the best I can for my children.

I just needed to vent. I don’t know what to do about him anymore. I just want him to follow ONE simple request. Without my having to tell him 3000 times to do it.

Please do me a favor, and save me the irritation; Do not preach to me about how I’m doing my parenting wrong. How I should be doing this and that. I’m not taking care of him properly and that’s why he’s not acting right. Fuck you. I am truthful about my parenting skills – I have the “balls” to say what the truth behind what goes on in my home. I guarantee you all those “mommy bloggers” out there don’t have the fucking audacity to do the same. Give me credit for sharing the truth – not bash me for not being like them.

Firstly, high school drama; I have no reason to have it, for I am not in high school. So why on earth do these people decide to bring me in to it? I have a Facebook account. I use my Facebook strictly for friends/family. I post a lot of shit on my page. Why? I am an open book. I always have been, I have no reason to sugarcoat bull shit, put a smile on my face, and act happy just because that’s what people want to hear.

So, long boring overdrawn story short, I had some drama yesterday with some girl from high school. She wrote me a nasty letter in my inbox about how I need to leave her name out of my mouth. How I sit there and give advice and act nice, then go behind her back, and become two-faced giving all her information to others. Basically, she likes drama, revolves her life around drama, and tries to bring people in to it. She accused me of talking to my (ex) best friend and telling her and her boyfriend (which is this girl’s baby daddy) everything this girl has said on her feed. I owned up to questioning my (ex) best friend about what she had said FOUR months ago about her being a drug addict. I also print screened what she said and sent it to my (ex) best friend to just find out what the truth was. Four months later, she accuses me of telling her all her shit.

So, what did I do? I explained what I had done four months ago. I owned up to what I had said. I apologized if I was out of line for what I did. Told her that she was completely rude and out of line for saying the stuff she said to me. I then deleted her, along with every one else from High School.

I used to revolve my life around making these girls happy. I wanted to be them. I was jealous of them. I wanted their respect, acceptance, and friendship. But then, I took a step back and asked myself, “Why would you do it now?” They are not a part of your life now. They are nothing to you other than old memories of good times. I deleted everyone and decided this, “I am now better than them. I have my own place to live and I’m not living with my parents. I have two beautiful, healthy children. I have a man that loves me and that I love with all my heart.” They’re jealous. I don’t need it. Good-bye from my life. It really upset me for a long time after the whole situation of it happened; but that’s how I am. I care too much about what others think. I am attempting to put a stop to that now.

Moving along to my next topic, talking to the social worker; Two days ago, I made the decision to give my oldest son’s teacher an email asking her if there was any way that I could have Nickolas sit down with her and maybe get her opinion and have him open up to her about what’s been going on. He’s having a massive issue with everything his Dad is putting him through, not to mention stuff at school. I thought maybe if we had a third party come in, analyze what’s been going on in his head, we could get some help with it. Also, quite frankly, I had no idea where to turn or what to do next.

Instead of hearing back from his teacher, I got a phone call from the social worker at school. She asked me what was going on, what I wanted from her, and what our plan of action was. She wanted to know some of the back story behind what my life, family, and relationships consist of as of lately. I explained everything. I didn’t hold back – I wanted to but I didn’t. I told her how Nickolas is having a rough time with Matt. I explained how Matt has been acting towards Nickolas and all the nonsense he has been putting him through. I told her I had bipolar in which I’m currently trying to take care of.

Needless to say, I like to call it – I shared all of my dirty little dark skeletons from my closet that I am ashamed of. I really wonder if people realize how hard that is for me. Telling someone, a complete stranger everything that is going on in your life that you are not proud of just to make sure that your son gets the help he needs.

After a long winded conversation with her, and her reassuring me that it wouldn’t be normal if Nickolas didn’t act out after all the stress and bull shit his father put him through. We decided that he should see someone for counseling or maybe even a psychologist for therapy. She told me that it was very important that I get my bipolar taken care of and that it’s vital for my relationship and parenting for my children that I tackle it. She also told me that I have to stop blaming myself and being so hard on myself because I told her, “I honestly feel as though majority of Nick’s issues is entirely my fault. I feel as though my actions at home, mainly from the bipolar, have rubbed off on him. I never wanted to cause him to be this way.” So, she told me that I need to stop beating myself up for everything I say and do. Nickolas will grow up and be whoever he ends up being because that was how he was born, from you, Matt, and everything, not just me. I already knew all this. It’s just different hearing it from a stranger.

So, what my plan of action is this, I am going back to the psychiatrist to see what new cocktail of drugs they give to me. While I am there, I’m going to ask for recommendations, referrals, or resources for Nickolas to get the help he needs. The social worker wants to stay in touch with me and keep up with how my treatment is going. She also informed me that Nickolas more than likely won’t open up to her, but since she’s in his classroom twice a week anyways; she’ll keep an eye on everything that’s going on with him and let me know of any problems and concerns.

So, we’ll see what happens next… I don’t have much more to talk about other than those two main things. I will have to figure out what the next post will be about. We’ll see what happens next.

Nick, my six year old son, and I don’t always see eye to eye. In fact, we butt heads more than we get along. I don’t know what it is, but we just argue and fight a lot. He’s six years old for christ sakes! It shouldn’t be like this until he’s at least 13-14 years old, right? I guess not.

I don’t know if its the bipolar; I don’t know if its its because he’s my first born and everyone seems to have problems with their first born child. I don’t know what it is, but I do know, its a problem. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my son with all my heart. He is my son. I would never kick him out like my parents did with me, now or when he’s a teenager. I will never send him away to live with his Father because I cannot handle him. I vowed when I was a teenager, I’d never do that to my children.

I get so very angry when it comes to Nickolas though. I pray to god, I don’t get like that with Mikhail. I pray to god that after my treatment, and after I get the right cocktail of medication; I’ll love my kids. Right now, I can’t say I like them all the time. There is love there, they are my children, but I really really don’t like them sometimes. I honestly can’t say them, as a whole either, its mainly Nickolas. I don’t know if its because he’s older and Mikhail is too little to do any wrong. I’m just not sure.

When I said that Nickolas and I argue a lot, it wasn’t an exaggerated statement. We argue all the time. For instance, this morning we had a 10 minute argument about lunch at school. Every morning while I’m getting him ready for school, I read him off the menu for the day. His school give him five choices of meals every day, he has to pick one. Very simple. Unless it’s a day where they have something he don’t like any of the choices. Today was one of those days.

“They have chicken tacos, turkey sandwich, meatball subs, big bird chicken salad, and chef salad… You should try the chicken tacos. All it has is chicken, taco shell, and cheese.”

“How about cold lunch?”

“We don’t have anything for cold lunch, Nick.”

“Well.” He looks around the kitchen. Opens the cabinet and says, “We have fruit snacks!”

“You’re not only having fruit snacks for lunch! I told you we don’t have anything for cold lunch. I have to go grocery shopping. I have been telling you over and over for the past week, I have no money for groceries right now, we have to wait and then I will go grocery shopping and you can have whatever you want then, right now, I have nothing to offer you!”

“Dad told me that you took all his and Lisa’s money! YOU HAVE MONEY! YOU ARE A LIAR MOM!”

“Nick. I have also already told you that, yes, your Dad paid money to us, but I don’t have it yet. I have to wait until the bank gives it to me.”

“You hate me, don’t you? God, why won’t you just let me have cold lunch!? Its because you hate me!”

Arrrgghh! I swear to god, at this point, I was irritated to the point of no return. My bipolar causes me to get irritation and aggravated very, very easily. I also have yet to figure out a way for me to calm the hell down. A friend suggested I look into EFT (emotional freedom techniques) so I am going to do that after I’m done writing this.

Either way, I really wish I didn’t get so upset when it comes to Nickolas. That argument that we had above is probably one of two or three a day! We are always fighting. He is six years old, he shouldn’t be talking to me that way. I should also show more respect to him.

There is a fine line going with him right now where he will not do anything in which we ask of him. Nickolas go eat. Nickolas please sit down and eat. NICK?! What are you doing?! Go eat! Simplest tasks seem nearly impossible for him to just comprehend. He doesn’t do this everywhere. He mainly does it here. Maybe we pay attention to him too much and we’re too hard on him. I try extremely hard to ignore a lot of it. I also try extremely hard that I’m not barking orders all day long but it seems like its the only only thing that will work. Actually, that doesn’t work either so honestly I have no idea what to bother with next.

All I know is that I really hate to feel this way. I feel like a god awful Mom when I do these things. I sit there and argue with my six year old son. He just wants to be loved and shown compassion. Most of the time I just want to relax, try to calm myself down, and not be bothered. I feel sorry for my kids sometimes. They didn’t ask to be put in a life with a bipolar mother. They didn’t ask to have to deal with not knowing if I’m happy, outraged, or sad. I wish I could give them a better life. I wish I wasn’t so angry all the damn time and could just appreciate and love them. I’ve tried for many years to do that. It seems like the most impossible task I have done.

I’ve said in the past, I wish I could be like those other Mommy Bloggers where they’re talking about how their kid did the cutest things, and how they’re so in love with their kids. How they can’t help but love every single little thing they do, and how its so great to watch them grow up. Honestly, I know its a bunch of crock. Not everyone loves and likes every single thing their kids do, but honestly, I wish I could at least try to be that way. Nope. I don’t like it. I get highly annoyed by it actually.

There’s got to be a way I can fix this. I’ve got to change myself for my children. They don’t deserve me.

Back in March he stopped receiving unemployment therefore, no checks for me. He immediately got another job, but he never reported it to the state. I couldn’t prove it. Finally in August or so, I filed to hold him in contempt of court because he wasn’t paying for so long. Our court date was finally scheduled for October 27th.

Basically, when you hold someone in contempt of court from not paying child support, and from my understanding: They have a chance of paying a specific amount by a specific date or an warrant will be issued for their arrest. Well, we went to court back in October and I found out the day before court he made a pretty hefty payment towards all the back support he owed. So, the commissioner started to ask him why he hasn’t reported his new employer.

He didn’t let him answer and told him directly, “It is your responsibility to come down here and make your payments every single week until your checks are being withheld from your employer.”

Matt decided to pipe up and say, “I don’t make nearly as much as I used to as a manager at Sears.”

“Oh? Well, you obviously have management skills. Why do you not have a job as a manager elsewhere instead of just a bartender?”

“Uh. Oh. Well. You know, with the economy the way it is, it’s extremely hard to find a job in these tough times.”

So, the commissioner decided to order the following at that court date:

• He had to prove that he applied at 25 different places and have it signed and dated.
• He had to make regular payments. He told him directly that it is his responsibility to come down there and make the payments every week.
• Ordered to pay his normal amount including some of the back support.
• Come back for a review in January.

Basically, Matt got away scott-free because he made a pretty large payment towards his back support the day before court. Lucky him, right? They said I didn’t have to go to the next court date because they were only going to review that he was making his payments. I wasn’t going to miss it for the world.

With that being said, Matt knew exactly what was expected of him. He knew what he had to do. November and December came and went and not a single payment was made. He didn’t give me a check. No checks came out of his paychecks automatically. I got nothing.

So I was under the full impression he was fucked at court. Royally fucked. He had messaged me the night before informing me he had made a payment of $180 (he was up to $2000 in back support) and that I didn’t have anything to worry about. I was puzzled. I mean, seriously, what the hell was $180 going to do?

I went to leave for court at 7am (it started at 8:15am) and my car wouldn’t start. I had a massive panic attack that I wasn’t going to make it. Mike came back home from work, got it to start, and I drove all the way to the court house which is about 25-30 minute drive with the normal traffic at that time not taking the freeway. I jumped in to my car and freaked out the entire way there. I wasn’t going to make it. I was going to miss him getting arrested. I was going to miss something!

I walked in the court house at exactly 8:05am. I stood in long line of people checking in and she checked me in at exactly 8:14am. I sat down in front of him. He looked up and said, “I told you I took care of everything. Why are you here?” I told him I didn’t want to miss being there because I just wanted everything taken care of. We shot the shit for a little bit talking about this and that and they called us in.

We sat down and the commissioner started discussing what we were doing there. “We are here in review to ensure Matt ___ is up to date with his weekly payments.” There was an attorney present for the Child Support Enforcement to make sure everything went they way they wanted. She piped up that there was no payments made since October 30th.

Matt whipped out a receipt. “I made a payment yesterday.” He handed the receipt to her and she goes, “Matthew has made a payment of … Oh! Oh my god! Well, then. Matthew has made a payment of $1800. His back support and interest are paid in full, up to date, and current.” The commissioner says, “Well, then I guess there is nothing more to be said here. Court is adjourned. I was shocked. I was completely unaware.

What happened next? Nothing. We walked out and that was it. He looked back at me and said “I told you I was going to pay you your precious money. You have it now. You can stop being a bitch about everything and its all taken care of.” I was shocked.

In a sense, I was happy as hell because now we have the money that Nickolas deserves. The money we all deserved. I have been asking family and friends to help me pay for this and that when it came to Nickolas like his school supplies and clothes, so I can finally pay everyone back.

But in another sense, I was disappointed and angered. There wasn’t a slap on the wrist. Not a single, “You need to stay up to date on your payments. You need to be more responsible.” Nothing. He walked away, once again, scott-free. He knew it. He knew he played the system.

Now it’s just a waiting game until I get the money. It’s also going to be interesting if another month he doesn’t make a payment; I’ll be taking him back to court once again.