It has been 22 days since the hubby left the state to start his new life in Texas.  It has been a long 22 days between the rat poison scare, preparing for hurricane Irma, enduring 5 days without power and then cleaning up from the whole ordeal once the power returned.  We’ve had about 5 days of normalcy now I think these past 3 weeks has finally caught up to me.  It has not been easy but it also wasn’t hard for me to get motivated, get up, and just get things done.  That said, this weekend has been the toughest on me psychologically.  I ran out of my ADHD pills early last week and now I’m struggling.  I haven’t been able to cut myself any slack either so I have been beating myself up non-stop.   I look around and all I see is a mountain of things I still haven’t taken care of.

I interviewed for a job a couple days before the hurricane hit and I heard last week that they want to hire me.  There has been some delay in getting an offer out to me but I expect it will be coming early this coming week. That is great news for us and provides financial relief but it still adds extra pressure on me to get a lot of work completed before I begin the job.  

Now I’m trying to gather my thoughts and make a plan, a thing that rarely has worked for me on its own especially when I feel a thick cloud of uncertainty and confusion in my mind.   Again, a thing that happens most often when I have run out of my ADHD medication.  I regard my need for this medication with the same disdain as I feel towards my need for glasses.   Glasses used to be optional or me.  Now I have 2 pairs of them.  One for close up work, another transition bifocals.  At any rate, it’s tough to create a plan and direction for myself when I lack direction. 

What was I thinking ..naming that other day “Day One”.  Eff that!  Yesterday was the real Day One.

 

The Dog:

Yesterday was the day Dennis took off to Texas early in the morning.  Yesterday was the real Day One of however many days it takes before the kids and I can also move to Texas and we can all be together again.  And for being the first day, it was a really shit day too.  First, I realized that during his packing, Dennis left the door to the garage open long enough to allow Appa (our dog) to roam around, pee, and shit in there.  This is a problem because there is rat poison in the garage that was planted by our exterminator 3 weeks ago.  We all knew we could not let the dog into the garage for any length of time.  For 2-3 weeks we knew this but I guess it slipped his mind …all night.  Needless to say I’m still angry with him over it.  When I realized this at around 11am yesterday (just 2 hours after Dennis drove away), it began a marathon of vet visits, phone calls, driving around, whatever it took to get Appa the medicine he needed to work as an antidote for the rat poison.  I had no idea if he actually ate any of the poison, but I wasn’t about to sit around and wait to see if he was going to start dying in the next 2 days.  By then, it would be too late. 

I guess my experience with losing my dog Scully 8-9 years ago to rat poisoning has taught me that there is no such thing as an overreaction to this situation.  I was gonna do whatever I had to do and not for me and not for the dog, even, because he’s already old but for the kids.  I didn’t want them to have to deal with losing our dog after they had just “lost” their dad for an indeterminate amount of time.  Nah, who am I kidding, I don’t want to lose our dog either.  How could I begin what I want to be a successful 3 month plan with the death of our dog?  He’s a really really good dog too and is worth the effort and money to save him.  So I spent 7 hours away from the house and away from my kids to take care of Appa.  I was worried the whole time too because this was the longest my daughters had ever been left alone to care for their little brother.  At 2 years of age, Ethan is a BIG handful right now.

Getting the vitamin K1 tablets was a huge problem because both CVS and Walgreens told me there was no generic version of the pills and that 140 pills would cost me upwards of $9k.  I don’t care how much we love Appa there just was no way I would pay that amount for a few pills. I had to find non-human grade pills. After several hours of running around and making phone calls, my vet found another animal hospital that had them in stock so I headed over there.  2 hours later, I had my pills and Appa had been given a shot of VitK1 by then so he was safe for the moment. I also ordered a bottle of vitamin k1 for dogs online which would complete the treatment.   The entire debacle cost us just over $500.   I’m still so angry at Dennis that he let this happen.  I’m not even mad over this one incident.  I’m angry that he doesn’t listen to me.  Like ever.  (Ok, not really ever but I’m still mad so… I’m allowed to exaggerate)

 

The Kids:

When Dennis was saying goodbye to the girls, Maya became very upset and I swear I saw a flicker of emotion from Jada too.  That girl is like me pre-pregnancies when it comes to emotions. She inherited that Vulcan gene.  She feels sadness but she just internalizes it and it feels like a far away thing until it’s not.  And that, we have little control over.  It’s not easy allowing emotions to boil over much.  It just doesn’t happen naturally.  Extra effort has to be made before it can happen. Anger and a sense of injustice has a much greater chance of invoking an emotional response and tears than sadness does. Me at funerals was always a challenge.  I mean how do you demonstrate you give a shit about the person who died unless you’re seen shedding a tear?  How do you shed a tear on demand?  It takes effort to think about things so grim that you overwhelm yourself with emotion long enough to make water spill from your eyes.  This skill is really hard to master.  If she’s like me, Jada won’t figure out how to do that until her 30’s.  But however you cut it, I know that both of the girls felt the departure of their dad in their own way and my vigil began then to keep them safe and happy, all on my own.  And then the dog happened.

I do have family an hour away but for all intents and purposes, I may as well be in Texas right now and alone.  I feel a need to not rely on anyone for help not because I don’t want to bother anyone, but because I feel I have relied on Dennis too much.  I’m not sure when I became less self sufficient because I always had been pre-babies.  It’s in my DNA to be self reliant. It’s not that I ever felt I wasn’t capable, I just stopped practicing it.  Laziness.  Convenience.  Whatever it is/was, it doesn’t matter.  I just know I want to rely on myself and DO what needs to get done on my own so that maybe I can get that practical faith in myself back.  And it’s really difficult to put into words what I mean.  See, I’m not afraid or worried because I KNOW I can handle it so in that sense I do have self-confidence.  It’s just that I haven’t shown myself or others by example that I can in a long while.  I’m not sure what’s more important to me; showing myself or showing others.  I think .. myself.  Because there’s only one person in my head and watching. Maybe I’m the “others”.

I’m 24 hours away from becoming a single parent for a period of 2 to 4 months.  I’m hoping for 3 max, of course.  Last night Dennis said “Just say the word and we’ll abort”, so I said “Ok, let’s abort”, and then we laughed.   It was a silly game at what if.  It would be really stupid if we aborted now after everything we have psyched ourselves up for. Of course, we are going to follow thru with the plan!

Now there is a chance I will be getting a job working remotely for a company which will slow the entire process of getting the house ready for sale.  But given the state of our bank account, I think it would be dumb not to take it.  Hopefully most of the work will be done between now and when I will have to start the job.  I’m leaving it in the hands of fate.  If it’s meant to be, I will get the job.  If it’s not, then I won’t.  Whatever happens there, I will accept.  There are major plusses and minuses to either outcome, but I think the plusses outweight the minuses.

My biggest obstacle when it comes to accomplishing an important goal has always been myself.  That’s true for everyone, of course, but I have sabotaged myself more times than I have helped myself so the chances it will happen again are worrisomely high.  I’m hoping that this knowledge and my fear of a repeat will be the key to serving myself for once.

I’ve played out both extreme opposite outcomes in my head.

Worst case scenario:

I freak the fuck out over everything and shut down and go hide in my room watching movies and TV series day after day.  I lose my patience with my kids on a nightly basis and make them miserable, angry, and sad.  I get an offer for this job after a couple weeks and I’m so overwhelmed by all that I haven’t done that I think I can’t take the job and end up turning it down.  I convince myself and Dennis that it’s for the best because I need to focus on selling this house and moving to Texas.  I finally start doing some work around the house all the while feeling guilty that I let things slide so much that I couldn’t handle taking the job.  Christmas starts knocking on the door and suddenly I’m forced into action because I feel as if the world is coming to an end.  I give away or throw away all the things I could have sold to make some cash.  The house is finally put on the market months after we had planned, I’ve put on more pounds of self loathing, the packing is chaotic, I settle for a moving company at the worst rate possible out of desperation, I settle on a bad offer on this house, and I limp to Texas with the kids in the car feeling like a complete failure and an idiot for setting myself up for success failure in Texas by fucking myself over so thoroughly and forcing myself to start my life there with major feelings of self loathing instead of great feelings of empowerment and a belief that I my control over my own life has improved.  It wouldn’t be the first time I had fucked myself over like that. I have been fucking myself over like that for the last several years and this move was supposed to be a chance at facing my fears, cleaning the slate, and doing the work.   But I have just failed.  Again.  There is no hope for me at this point and it’s likely from here on out that anti-depressants and a divorce are in my future. 

Best case scenario:

I continue to put the work on my moving journal which I have created to lay out how packing will be organized (by color).  I use this system to identify all the items that need selling, donating, and trashing.  I start and maintain a detailed inventory list for everything that is getting moved, and I complete my search for the right moving company and I make a deposit and have them on standby.  I work daily to ensure that all items on my sell list are sold, all items on my trash list are trashed, and all items on my donate list are donated.  The house gets put on the market on schedule and I’m offered the remote job which I accept.  Even if I am not done with all the work when it’s offered, I feel 100% in control and feel confident that I can handle the job and work on the remaining packing/selling/donating after hours and on weekends.  Even if things get hard, my frustration level is low enough to keep me from murdering my kids each day when they push those buttons they push.  The happier they are, the less buttons they push. Once the house is on the market, I feel good enough about everything that is done and the time left to play with (and the fact that I’m making an income) that I am not going to accept a shit offer for this house if one is given, even if we sell it as-is.  It’s a good house and I’m not desperate.  Even if selling takes longer than we’d hoped for, we feel confident enough to rent a house ahead of the sale and may even take a 3-4 day vacation to Texas to work on getting it furnished and so the kids can see Dennis, and get excited about their new house.  Once the old house sells everything is ready and we pack up whatever is remaining and head off.  I arrive in Texas, whether I love it or hate it, with a sense that life can be good and with a new confidence in myself and a belief that my days of fucking myself over are over. 

Best and worst scenarios.  Either one is possible and even if it ends up being something in between, I think my actions are what matters most.   If I don’t get the job, if we don’t get a good offer, if it takes longer than we’d like to sell, if I don’t have the patience I’m going to need to keep me from murdering my kids…  that’s all variable and what happens will happen and won’t really affect how I feel about myself.  Well, maybe not getting the job will, but that falls under the category of “out of my control”.

I know what I need to do, but the question is will I do it?  I’m tired of self-evaluating why I do or don’t do what I do or don’t do, so I won’t.  At this point and after all this time I just know it’s a matter of doing versus not doing.  How it all turns out will depend on how big of a coward I am and whether or not I have the courage enough to face my fears of failure.  

It is very intriguing how a fear of failure will keep me from trying to keep from failing.  For being a highly analytical human being, I sure suck at self-analysis.  Ever heard of Morita Therapy?  After I read up on that is when I stopped trying to analyze my motives and just DO shit or not DO shit.  There is no try. (Or analysis)