I don’t know what Storey is fucking doing but it certainly isn’t going to bed and it certainly means she’ll be a cunt in the morning having stayed awake 36 straight hours at her fathers.
Blair is sunburned, she spent the day at the pool with some friends on Saturday, and while I’ve checked her burns and she will be fine, just a bit uncomfortable. She’s having increasing anxiety attacks and depression is setting in. She struggles to get out of bed in the morning and when I’m at work already she doesn’t go to school, but sleeps all day.
I find it a bit hard to support her through anxiety. It’s probably one of the only things I cant support other people with very well, because in my experience there was no other option than to suck it up and push through. I know I have traumatised myself but for those years, and even now, I only ever had me to help myself.
Blair is supposed to be going to bed, but she comes out of her room panicked because there are ants. (Well yes, I do tell you not to eat in there and to bring out the trash but you don’t listen) but I didn’t say that. Instead I told her to sit with me on the couch for a bit to regulate, then we would go fix up her bed linen together. We took the doonah outside to shake out and Blair is telling me about the day at the pool. I gave her money before she left with her Father on Friday, to get into the pool and buy food or what not. She tells me that when they left they went to the shop and she bought her father some lollies. I said “Why did you get those ones?”
She replied “Because Dad really likes those ones.”
Queue me crying. She asked why. And I told her… It was my birthday a month ago, and you and Storey didn’t do anything for me. Not even make me a cup of tea or say happy birthday. You spend 12 out of 14 days with me and I do everything for you, buy your clothes, etc.. yet you don’t do anything for me because you know I like it. But you think to buy dad lollies and it’s not even a special day for him? That really hurt. I was hurt about it on my birthday but that just makes it hurt more.
She was quiet, and we finished shaking the things out and then put her bed linen back together with clean stuff. I said I’d help her get ready in the morning because of the depression.
I don’t expect what I said to have had any impact. Its clear they’re not just thoughtless people in general, they’re just specifically inconsiderate towards me.
I’ve decided to just live for myself. I’m doing my own washing, and cleaning my own space. I’m tired of waiting for them to be decent humans toward me and I’m tired of doing everything for them.
Blairs room has mold and I said it is to be cleaned up tomorrow because its so bad. Perhaps after she realises how shitty that task is she’ll start opening the curtains and the window for a change.
There’s cat vomit on the floor in Storeys room. I’m surprised it managed to land in the only bare carpet. I’ve refused to clean it up, she knows how to do it and where the products are. I noticed today it was fuzzy and green. Bring on the respiratory symptoms I guess.
I’m sober. I’ve found I feel more when I’m not. Because when I’m sober I dissociate, and I know I’m much much worse than ever before. My psychologist retired and I’ve been trying to find a new one. The last one talked about herself more than anything else and I had to keep steering the session myself and felt like I was her councillor, instead. The last referral I had sent out hasn’t got back to me despite me calling a dozen times. I’m onto a third referral for Blair because the last lady was super condescending and spoke in a baby voice to her, and the next has full books. And the specialst clinics havent contact me at all about my EEG and MRI results, even though legally I need a letter from them to be able to drive again. Its been almost 8 months since I was to stop driving due to the seizure.
Shits fucked, man. I’m so done. If I didn’t have work obligations I don’t know what I’d have done with myself by now.
I should be pleased with how far I’ve come on my own. But I should also be appreciated by my fucking kids.
SP
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