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It’s been a seriously rough day. It didn’t start out that way, actually yes it did, but it got good for a bit there….before…..

One of the cats peed on my daughter’s backpack. Why? Good fucking question. There are three cats and three litter boxes. They have their pick but apparently none of them were as good as the backpack at the moment. Necessity being the mother of invention dictated the need for a bag for the field trip we were taking in two hours time. It’s a good thing I sew……

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The Doctor is in. vworp vworp……that’s my Tardis noise. don’t judge.

The field trip was awesome. The kidlets all loved it and it was honestly the best part of the day. I didn’t realize it at the time of course, but when do we ever?

Just to clarify….my day did not go to shit because someone died or was diagnosed with a horrible disease or war, famine or anything truly horrific. We are talking a basic first world problem here. But it is a problem nonetheless and I don’t know how to deal with it. My soon-to-be 10yo has started lying all the time and nothing I do seems to get the point across that it will not be tolerated. We’ve had conversations, I’ve lost my cool and yelled, I’ve taken everything he holds dear away from him……I don’t know how much more I can bang my head against the wall and not suffer serious repercussions. Tonight it sent me into a slight manic state.

I’ve never actually been diagnosed with any sort of depression but I have it. I can see the patterns when I look back on my life, hell there are patterns on a daily basis if I want to look for them but I’ve never actually been diagnosed. Maybe I’m not ready to be fixed yet. Or maybe I think I can fix myself. Or maybe I don’t want that many labels.

I could feel the want to escape heavy in the antsy way I couldn’t focus on a task. The want to just get in the car and drive everywhere and nowhere with the windows down and the music up. Alone. Possibly to get ice cream. Alone. But seeing as I couldn’t go anywhere with both children in bed I was quite literally stuck.

So I phoned a friend. Rather sent a text. The response has been phenomenal. Laughter truly is the best medicine. And while we have not spoken even remotely about my problem child, it is a conversation. It is a conversation that has sealed a crack in my porcelain and calmed the manic panic. It is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.

Now if my phone would stop dropping the SIM card that would be fan-fucking-tastic.

 

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