Monday, September 29, 2014

The worst week I can remember

Today is my 44th birthday.  Which again, makes zero sense to me as I am still in my 20's, I swear.

This past week was one of the worst weeks I can remember, since I have been sober.  Let me run it down for you.

MONDAY:  My 11 year old son had surgery on his hand, which he broke by punching his brother in the head. The brother that received the punch, is fine.  The surgery went well, but it isn't easy to see your child scared, in pain, or any of that.  It is stressful and awful.  Not to mention, Bob and I were having a  very difficult time getting along.  Which leads me to…

TUESDAY:  I don't start work until 11:00AM on Tuesdays, as I run an aftercare group in the evenings, and I do an evening intake.  So I was home in the morning.  My son who had the surgery stayed home from school, his twin brother stayed home from school to help him because my 13 year old stayed home from school with a fever and sore throat.  SO, three boys home.  Bob and I were fighting again.  He has been having a medication change.  And I have been having a patience change.  And the two aren't going together well.  Bob has been doing some irrational thinking, and embarrassing behavior.  Contacting old friends of mine, talking to my family, trying to turning people against me.

So he was on the phone, and against my better anger management skills, I thought he was talking to my dad, so I tried to take his phone.  He called the police on me in front of my kids.  They came, were HORRIBLE to our family, and it was one of those days I wish didn't happen and I could erase.  How awful.

WEDNESDAY:  I had served Bob divorce papers in like April.  On Wednesday, I filed them.  He has no idea.  Well, maybe he does now that I wrote this.  Fuck Grad school.

THURSDAY:  My daughter had some peer issues, has been having school issues, we have family issues, and she threatened to hurt herself.  So, I drove her to the hospital and got home around 3:30 AM.  She was admitted.

FRIDAY:  I went to work, on 2.5 hours of sleep.  I felt like I had been kicked in the gut.  My daughter was transferred by ambulance to a different hospital. I felt incredibly sick to my stomach all day.  Worried about my whole family.  Feeling out of control.  Also, lack of sleep triggers me and makes me feel icky.  I honestly felt like I had been up all night doing meth.  It was hard to focus on the clients in front of my face, when I had all of that going on behind the scenes.

SATURDAY:  I was going to go up to my camper alone overnight, since tomorrow is my birthday and there are a few things I need to do before I close it down, but I needed to visit my daughter in the hospital.  I brought some of her friends.  She, of course, wanted to leave with us.  So she threw a bit of a tantrum.  It sucks to leave you kid somewhere like that.  It is a nice facility, but she doesn't want to be there.

SUNDAY:  Is my birthday, which is tomorrow.  I am sitting on my bed, writing this post that I most likely won't post, since there are two people in this that I didn't ask permission, and are very sensitive topics.

I don't feel steady.  Not in my sobriety, but in my life.  I feel worn thin.  I am struggling giving a shit about anyone around me, because they have bled me dry.

I wish I could run away.

I posted something last week, but Bob left a big long response.  I couldn't stand it, so I erased the whole thing.

I feel extremely broken

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