Unspun

Today like many of my other days my brain raced out of control. I woke up at 5am. My throat was hoarse, and I started to sneeze rapidly. If you are a woman who has bared a child out of her vagina then you know I had to stay lying down and cross those legs tightly, or dart for the toilet hoping to make it in a millisecond, or id be changing pants and cleaning my couch cushion. I did make it off the couch but not to the toilet and I wasn’t fast enough to get my yogi’s down in the millisecond I needed to. I fired not one, not two, but five sneezes before I had those britches down all the way. Yep, I had pissed myself. Thank You, kid, one, two, and three. I had to shower anyway so my incontinence was only a slight inconvenience and lucky for me no one was awake yet to see my embarrassment.

I got done with my shower to realize all the towels in this damn house were dirty. Dammit, I left the towels in the washer for the third day again. Probably smells like swamp must and mildew. I will fucking rewash and dry them today I thought. I shut the shower off and I just stood in there for a few moments to dry off somewhat. Dancing a little to the songs I am hearing in my head. I wrapped my hair in the clean t-shirt I had laid out to wear today, it’s better for my hair any way I thought. I took a good look at myself in the mirror, such a disappointment. I let myself go. I am not going to start bawling. Knock it the hell off bitch, take your meds now! I said to myself under my breath. I am still that badass bitch. Sobbing now. I brushed, I flossed, Mehhh who cares. Me I suppose because I grabbed my under-eye cream like it was going to save my life and applied it heavily. Then my face moisturizer and I got some serums from my local Bent and Dent because I want a 10-step face routine. I want to look like I am 17 again. But I can’t afford it. Who can? I must apply retinol and all the goop to stay line free.

Shit who am I kidding. I let myself go I already have the lines, I am an adult woman who gets hormonal acne because I thought instead of getting my tubes tied I would get a non-hormonal copper IUD so I wouldn’t have all the side effects and downtime. Well, now I bleed so heavily I could fill David’s wine bottle AND Brayker’s key twice. (David’s Wine Bottle reference-The Lost Boys) (Brayker’s Key reference-Demon Knight) My face looks like a 13-year-old girl just starting puberty and her period that only ate chips, pizza, and chocolate the entire week. Two weeks before my period comes all I want to do is eat, and I could sleep all day and night for three days straight. I don’t want to be touched, I don’t want to be talked to, I want to be left alone. hearing the word Mom sounds like nails on a chalkboard. It is the most inconvenient for me to answer messages, texts, or calls, and how dare someone show up knocking on my door. It just makes me livid. I loathe everyone that breathes at this time of the month.

But then like magic, the night before the red sea Flows I have so much energy, I reach out to people I avoided, I am happy, patient, and enjoy being around my kids. I even get so emotional about how I felt just one day before. I felt so damn guilty about the sound of them asking me 34 questions and sitting so close to me, and touching me made me want to just leave and drive and drive until I was out of gas, like eww can you please just go over there! But now it is all okay. Come here to your Mama and let me love your badasses. My babies, the loves of my life, the reason I wake up in the mornings. (in more ways than one) They are growing so fast and some days I cry and cry about it. Especially about my youngest. That hurts me to my core. He is my last one. He loves me so much and I just know he will change just like the older two and he won’t need me or love me so much anymore. I won’t be his everything anymore. Get it together bitch, you’re still his Mama and you have two other kids. You have many more years of being needed. First off, he is my baby. He is my last one. He wants me and only me. He can be mean to me, I’ll forgive him always. He will always be my baby. You mean your favorite. No cunt, but actually yes. I love my older two to the core. But all you Mama’s out there can deny it all you want, you don’t love all your kids the same. The way I see it and explain it is, I treat them according to age and how they treat me. The older two don’t need me. One could sit in a room all day and only come out for food. If I would let it happen. This is the kid that can talk to you about nothing or something for hours and hours nonstop. The other one will send me 3oo pics a day of shit she wants me, her broke-ass mother to buy her and if she doesn’t get a response she will keep sending it, then she will start asking for it over and over again until Mama goes TF off. Then I am awful. Listen you fucking….no, no, no! Your right. Just detach so you can completely ignore her and anything else that is going on around you. Works for me!

Well anyway, my brain. I am not normal. I knew something was wrong with me around 11 years old when I was going through puberty. But with each relationship failure, each child I bear, each family member who disappoints me, each job or trade I ever have had I am learning more and more that I am not normal. My brain just isn’t wired correctly. Some days I feel like damn I am getting my life finally together, I am going to be better! Then other days I am like wow! What the fuck! Why did you try this? Why did you think you could do this? Some days I am so smart and I know a lot about shit that I think no one else would, some days I can’t fucking spell words my kids can spell. On other days, I am making routines to follow, to-do lists, setting and writing goals out, and then BOOM! Just like a good TikTok transition, I spent all my money on shit my kids don’t need and will probably ruin, on shit I know I wanted a while ago and couldn’t get but with this new job or with this raise or the money I saved I can get it now. Fuck! I forgot my electric bill is due. Actually overdue. I want to do so much for my kids and with my kids that I had never done or had a chance to do as a kid with my own parents and believe me it is a lot! (No shade to my parents, they did the best they could with what they knew) (Insert Eyeroll Here)

I have a lot of ambitions. I do have a lot of goals. But it is hard for me to stay on track, and finish out. I can go for months doing so well and checking off small goals one after another, then something will happen and I’ll give up entirely for another few months. It is a cycle for me. I do know one thing though, Nothing can get me out of my funk, nothing or no one except the love I have for these damn hoodlum-ass kids. I want to give up and just be a bum ass bitch but I can’t my kids need me, I’ll want to lay in bed all day, I’ll want to not shower for days on end, I’ll want to mope around thinking Woe is me and then Ill see them doing or saying the good things that I taught them and Ill get my big ass off my couch and ill shower, ill get dressed, ill take them to the Dollar Store, Ill take them to Five Below, we will go to the park, we will go get fast food, we will eat junk food and watch a movie TOGETHER. They won’t see me falter and ill never ever let them think they need to hold me up because I am here to help them up when they fall, I am here to turn their grey skies blue but I won’t let them forget if they are disrespectful or do something they know they are not supposed to I will paint their asses red. Nope, that is a lie too. I do a lot of threatening and yelling and bartering. Usually, these hoodlums don’t test too much with the disrespect but when they do I take away the thing they love the most. Wifi and devices. Oh man, you should see them then. It’s life or death. And after a day without the phone or wifi, they choose death. the withdrawal is so bad I get promised outlandish things I know won’t happen but they swear On God it will. If you are reading this and have some good advice for me great. If you are reading this, and you want to comment on how bad of a parent I am and how bad my kids will end up well, you are probably right. Actually No, I think the fuck not. You are wrong. That’s all I have to say about that. Thank You and Bless Your Heart, Have the Day You Deserve.

It is hard for me to stay at a job. I can’t focus. Just like I do while I am at home, I can go to feeling like I am the fucking The Wolf on wall street or Miranda Priestly, then the next I am Mama June in Honey Boo Boo, or Frank from Shameless. I do take medications. I know I must need them right? They don’t work. They work for a little while and then I’ll go into one of these episodes and I will forget to take one or the other or ill take something that is not prescribed to me for my damn agonizing tooth pain, drink too much out in public because A) I don’t know how to act around a bunch of people normally sober B) I never get out like ever! or C) I like to drink. A LOT so when I do get out which is rare nowadays so I don’t take my meds. Alcohol and my meds don’t mix well. It is not that I don’t want to work, I do. I enjoy having my own money, I love being able to go out and do things with my kids, I love buying my family things, and I love trying to build my credit so I can buy my home someday. But I cannot focus, which makes it hard for me to stay on task, or it takes me too long to complete tasks because I know when I was being trained I was not retaining anything in my head so when I tell the I am taking notes in this note pad so I can do a really good job I do mean it wholeheartedly but the training went too fast, I did ask to repeat some things a few times but I was trying to keep up and now I can’t read what I was writing or my abbreviations I made then that I thought I would understand later I have no clue what the hell I meant. I get so anxious at work. I don’t want to be talked to at work I try to stick to myself and not make too many friends, I stutter and stumble over my words even if I know what I want to say and I know it is right I don’t get it out right. Sometimes I do feel confident enough to talk and be social and I enjoy it while that feeling lasts but a week or even a month or a few go by and I’ll flounder right back down into my black hole. That is where I am the scum at the bottom of the pond and I am not worthy of this job, I am not good at my job, I am not educated enough, I dress like trash, I don’t say the right things, your off topic, shut up dumbass. I am fat, I might smell, and they are all talking bad about me. Or my favorite kind of intrusive thoughts while at work, Oh my god, someone is abusing my baby while I am working, what if they die while I am here, what if I am working to much and they don’t care if I come or go anymore, what if the kids needed me and I wasn’t there. Those are the worst. I have ended up at my desk, or up in a quad bawling my eyes out thinking about bad things happening to my kids or my siblings or parents and I just bawled. I have had many jobs. I thought I did well at most of them but there were others I knew I tanked. Some I wish I could have been better at or just better in my head because I knew If I could control my own brain it would be over for those bitches then. Damn, I miss that job.

My struggle is real. The only real consistent thing I know I can do really, really good at is just writing out my own thoughts, and yes one day I will be talking about how I want to decorate my home and the next topic could be about why I think we are living the world or wars right now but I can write them out. piece by piece. So this is where I am at.

If you like reading and learning about my life, if you can relate, if you have any ideas you think I would like, or you know, if you want to pay me, for real I said it, pay me, that would be fantastic because I am too fat and self-conscious to make only fans so I won’t be making bank selling nudes or pegging my neighbor Tommy on camera for anyone anytime soon so yea. I have PayPal or I can set something else up. You just let me know. Follow along on my journey of self-discovery maybe. I hope I find her or at least one or two of her personalities that are generally trying to be better and do better. Sharing is caring as well. If I can help at least one person have a better day or feel better about where they are in life then that is caring for me as well and I love you for that.

Tootaloo