this is me trying

I just don’t know what to do anymore. I have talked, hinted, blogged, poeted, texted, reacted, proacted, and nothing has changed. Why do men continue to think that it is a woman’s job to assume a motherly role? There are not strict gender roles any longer for majority thinkers.

I can take the trash out, do the litter box, get myself up for appointments, and get things done, whether I outsource those jobs or do them myself. I don’t need a man, I need a partner (unless I want to be single, then I need myself, the cats, and Ollie Bear).

Don’t want to do the “dirty work”? Choose the more desirable tasks without being asked or told and those are what you get. If you unload the dishwasher and consider that your part, guess what the other person is doing? Loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. My brother and I had that chore after school and he would run home (he pushed me down a hill a couple of times to get home before me) so he could unload the dishes and I would have to touch the dirty, gross ones. If the dishwasher was empty and just needed loaded, he made sure I got home before he did. Siblings are great, huh 😂😂? But leave the decision-making to someone else and at their discretion, you’re on 💩 duty every time; quite literally with a puppy and blind cat. That’s the way the cookie crumbles.

My guts are spilling out (literally) and I’m still doing more than my part. Taylor dropped a lyric from the new album and it sums it up well, as she tends to do: Even statues crumble if they’re made to wait. I have seen a lot of instances where men and women think their partners will stay around because their parents stayed together regardless of how they were treated. I am not like that. My mom became a strong woman and taught me there is a limit and I can certainly stand my ground and say enough is enough (and I will).

I have changed everything for the loml in the last ten years. I went from having a caretaker my entire life, briefly having two in Mom and Adam for three years, to running an entire household by myself, having an independent, and trying to figure out everything. Mom didn’t know she was going to die and I would be flying solo. I think she thought if she didn’t make plans and preparations, she possibly could not die, which I totally get. She taught me many things but not everything (do parents ever get the opportunity to teach their children everything they want to before they die?).

I mean, I paid Mom’s house off with her life insurance by mailing a very large personal check via the post office… Obviously, that was incredibly stupid but I did not know that was a no-no because I knew about traveler’s checks but not certified checks or other secure ways to make transactions, like money orders, in 2014. I just knew I needed to get it done so I wouldn’t have to worry about the mortgage. The house bank called and asked if I was attempting to pay the house off and I think I started crying and told them what was going on. They were very helpful and took care of it for me.

All this is on top of living with someone who was too emotionally abused and stunted for me to be able to be myself. I never had to pretend or suppress with Mom when I got older because she was used to me and would back off and let me regulate on my own. Now, when I’m overwhelmed and need to decompress, I am asked “what’s wrong?” constantly until I answer or he marches off in a huff.

Even though we have a nephew on the spectrum, I am not supposed to behave or react out of neurotypical character. I have always had such expectations placed on me when other family wasn’t held to the same. I was supposed to be the good girl, the polite one, never speak up, never confront, let things go, etc. I cannot become irrationally frustrated or physical with things or have my entire mood ruined because one small thing was not as I expected or wanted it. That results in me containing everything, and my mental and physical health deteriorates until I can barely function and I break instead of merely snapping.

I really don’t ask for much, seriously. I want a relatively clean home free of ants or ladybugs (which means food and drink and trash not left all over the house), a mowed and trimmed lawn, and things repaired around the house. We’ve had a roof leak in the bathroom forever that should have been repaired a long time ago. But instead of getting it done, he’s going to wait until the ceiling caves in and then try to comfort me when I lose my 💩 because I don’t have the money to fix the roof or the ceiling.

When I just stop to see how bad he lets things get, it’s pointed out to me as soon as I fuss at him (well, you left this out and that there; you do this and that; you act this way; everything is a comparison with no responsibility taken, ever).

Of course, I’m the dramatic and unreasonable one for wanting it fixed yesterday, or wanting anything done, really. I already have to figure out how to replace the floors and subfloors in the kitchen, living room, and Mom’s room on my own because of the cats. I didn’t grow up in garbage and I don’t like being forced to live in it just because someone else did and has zero self-respect. Love and support are not the only things one needs.

Sorry for all the April Showers

Huh. WP PC app is back to normal, so I don’t know what that was all about.

It’s April again, and I thought things would get easier but that isn’t the case. April 10, National Siblings Day, marked five years since my brother died. He didn’t even make it to 40. We weren’t physically close as he lived in a different state and neither of us liked using the phone, but I adored him and loved when he came to visit or I went to his house. After Mom died, I got the best sleep and rest when I stayed with him and his family for a weekend.

April 19th will make 10 years since Mom died. That is also the date of Taylor Swift’s new album, so I will have something to smile about at least. Mom and I were/are longtime fans since Tim McGraw. I cannot believe it has been a decade that she has been gone. I wish there was an AI program that could create her voice. All I have for that is an answering machine outgoing message that I captured on my phone after she died. No videos. No recordings.

I don’t sound like her, so I can’t even record myself and pretend it’s her. I sound more like my dad, unfortunately. My birthday is at the end of the month, 10 days after Mom died. I don’t celebrate it. Depression and trauma covers an entire month for me! I will be 29 again this year, per usual. Just like Phineas is 11 months old every year. He is my baby and always will be.

I was banned from Reddit again but only for 7 days this time. I made a comment that I don’t like the F-word and wish people would stop using it and someone called me a baby, so I tagged Adam in it. Adam made a comment to this guy, so the loser got Adam banned from the sub and when I participated in another post in the same sub, I was banned for “ban evasion” because the idiots at Reddit cannot comprehend that more than one person in a household can have a Reddit account. I really, really hate Reddit with a passion but I have no other social outlet. X is a cesspool as well, and Facebook isn’t really that active since they screwed up the feed and don’t show recent posts first. I don’t get Tumblr, although I do have an account I reactivated yesterday.

I appealed Reddit’s decision, again, and was turned down, again. It makes my blood boil, but I am trying to keep my mouth shut. Reddit workers and moderators are such fascists with too much time on their hands. They have subreddits with any type of porn (made up of Reddit users) one can imagine, subs for photos of upskirt shots (not consenual), and some of the most disgusting fetish subs, but I get banned because some pissant can dish it out but not take it when my husband defends me. It has not been a good month 😒.

I guess this month makes a year since I started this site/blog. Yay, me! Why do we use the word “yay” when the correct spelling is “yea”? I do it because people think I just made a typo while trying to say “yeah.” Why do people just take it upon themselves to change the way things are spelled and then claim that is what is correct? Like “could of, should of, would of.” Or, one of the worst phrases, “I could care less.” You’re not stating you really don’t care by saying you could actually care less than you do. Come on, people. If you could not tell, I am very cranky at the moment. It seems like it was New Years just last week.

In my next post, I will talk about how utterly insufferable Adam is because of Neville!! If only I had listened to myself. (Do I ever??) Also, we will be losing one of our babies very soon.

The Failed Lab Experiment

What a complete and total flippin’ bust! Neville has made his choice, and it does not include me. He only wants to be with Adam except to check if I have food. He treats me like Dad’s wife treated me. I don’t get it, though. Adam and I have opposite sleeping schedules, so when I was awake, I had him, and when Adam was awake, he had him. Adam took him out to go to the bathroom but that’s just because he smokes outside so he goes out anyway. If he was sleeping, I took Nev out. If I make Neville stay in here, he sits in the doorway and whines and dings the bell until I become livid and march him to the other bedroom.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that:

  • I got him to be my service dog. I’ve always had reservations about Adam having a dog and I knew it wouldn’t be good for us as a couple and I’m often thisclose to sending both of them to his mom’s.
  • I treat Neville 1000x better than Adam does. Adam sounds like a textbook abusive father in volume and phrases, and I don’t like it at all. I can’t yell like him, so my yelling is hardly alarming.
  • I do all the non-abusive training and treats and praise him even when I’m not impressed (Look at you! You picked a piece of food up off the floor and ate it! Wow. Like you’re not starving every second of the day).

I’ve never been rejected by a damned animal before.

I’ve always stuck with cats regardless of how much I wanted a dog because I knew how Adam would be and that I would not tolerate it. He thinks yelling and repeating threatening phrases is training. Obedience should not be out of fear. Mom tried to tell him, “Don’t do that around [Cari],” and he should know better by now. I don’t like loud noises, and Dad used to yell. It actually took Dad a while to lose his temper, but then he would just let it all out at my brother or me.

Early in dating my ex-husband, he lost his temper with his job when we were in the vehicle and I started packing and was ready to leave as soon as we got home. My ex never once raised his voice toward me but it doesn’t have to be aimed at me. Some people never change, I guess. I think it is extremely disrespectful that I am the one always making sacrifices and being uncomfortable in my own home. To go with that, I think you get to a certain age where you’re just not going to put up with certain things anymore and you learn to advocate for yourself as much as you can 🤷‍♀️. This post took quite a turn.

So, that’s where we are, and it’s all great. Great, great, great, great.

The Great Fool

I saw something called shadow work journaling online (I have no idea what I was searching for) and decided to give it a shot. I used to have a therapist whom I loved, but she dropped me after I missed three appointments, which kind of irked me because I was seeing her for major depressive disorder and ADHD. Missing/forgetting/canceling appointments tends to happen with those disorders. It was right after my brother died, too, so that was really helpful 😒.

Anyway, I want to try the journaling here so I can pretend there is an audience and maybe stick to doing it. No promises! I’ll be using some prompts I found online, although I have the worst memory and the prompts concentrate on the past and memories, so I don’t know how that will go. Seeking Serotonin seems like a great resource and I’m going to start with the 30-day Mindset Journal Challenge. That being said, I started this post two weeks ago 😂.

Day 1: Gratitude

What am I grateful for today?

Today’s prompt is an easy one. I am overwhelmingly grateful for my husband. This guy survived a nightmare of a childhood full of violence and neglect, and he is one of the sweetest, most caring people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. Mom was not wrong when she called him a Godsend. He has always said that it was love at first sight when he saw me. I challenged this claim because I’ve never really believed in such a thing, but we dug my senior yearbook out, and in his note he left in the back pages, he wrote, “I will always love you.” Well, color me wrong!

Easy on the eyes, hard on the heart.

We knew each other for a school year of lunch periods — I was a senior when he was a freshman — and then reconnected nine years later on MySpace (I wasn’t a fan of Facebook). In school, he was just my friend’s dorky little brother; I was the same age as my friend, whom I had a bit of a crush on. Mom was thrilled when Adam started coming around in 2009 because he made me happy and made me laugh so much, which Mom said she had not heard in a long time. For four-and-a-half years, I was Adam’s and Mom’s world, which was pretty awesome.

Now, I can walk through the living room with a basket of clothes or a package that was delivered and this man won’t notice me walking by him. However, just today, I was getting ready to take a shower, so I turned the exhaust fan on in the bathroom, then left the bathroom to get towels, and Adam was walking through the living room with towels for me because he heard me turn the fan on. He turns the air on when he hears me get in the shower because I don’t like getting sweaty after I get out of the shower, which I tend to do.

Due to my AuDHD, shows and movies can confuse me, and I don’t want to get invested if I know I won’t understand what’s going on. Since Adam knows me better than I know myself, I ask him to watch it first to see if it’s too complicated. It may not be his cup of tea, but he will watch it and tell me his opinion. The same goes with comedies. I don’t like the F-word or movies that are too raunchy. He’ll watch them and let me know how “bad” they are. Just recently, I asked him to watch No Hard Feelings, as I really like Jennifer Lawrence but the movie was marketed as a raunchy comedy.

I could go on forever, but I suppose I won’t. I don’t know how I got so lucky. He’s a wonderful father to our kiddies and I love seeing this self-professed dog person being so sweet and loving towards our cats. Our youngest, Willow, is his girl, and she recently got in trouble for lying on my keyboard and hitting the keys on purpose even though I moved the keyboard out of the way like I always do with them. He lightly swatted her butt and told her “no” because I couldn’t get her to listen, and tears were in his eyes after he scolded her and she ran away. I mean, come on!

As always, I’m grateful for my mom. Thanks to her planning and always thinking of her children, I have a home and an acre of land that are paid off. The house taxes suck, but I would rather have those than a rent or mortgage payment each month. Considering I can barely work, my income is a joke and I would be homeless without Mom’s house. We had her car, too, until some jerkface mechanic broke it. I will be forever grateful for her and Adam.

My Breakdown Led to a Breakthrough

I finally got around to asking my husband to go to his brother’s for a week, and it went as expected. He got upset and tried to spend one day ignoring me so he wouldn’t bother me, but that was awkward and annoying. Things came to a head when I decided to do something that I had been asking him to do for months, which pissed me off because I don’t ask him to do much since I’m pretty stubborn and determined when I make up my mind to do something and I work at it tirelessly before admitting defeat. He decided to go to his sister’s since his brother lives a couple of hours away and his sister is about five minutes away.

Best. Thing. Ever.

For the first time in years, I had the house to myself. No annoying phone noises. No disgusting smell of way-too-strong coffee. Nothing being put away wherever. It was bliss. I work worked. I house worked. I got hurt a few times, which is totally okay to me, although I could have gone without getting both hands full of broken fiberglass. My body started relaxing, so I wasn’t in constant pain like I had been for months. I could get deep breaths. Obviously, I don’t handle stress well. My husband came by and took the week’s trash out but I was sleeping. We talked daily via text, and since I have issues communicating how I feel and what I want or need, I invited him to read my blog, which he did.

I think he finally started to understand what I’ve been going through and how stressed I have been. He told his mom not to do the dishes anymore, and he changed her phone settings so it’s not making a noise for every notification. I sent him some autism websites, one focusing on meltdowns, which he found informative and helpful. Most of the time, I can’t/won’t talk to him about my ASD issues (symptoms?) and struggles without feeling extreme shame and embarrassment and major impostor syndrome.

Somewhere in the midst of my week of solitude, I decided to begin the keto diet, and I want to convert Mom’s closet into a sensory room. I am excited about both projects, although I am having a bit of trouble with each of them. More on those two topics later!