Slow Down, Gym Shoe!

To Be Aspie Or Not To Be?

A lady was recently telling me that some people felt that ADHD is on the autism spectrum. That was interesting to me, because although my official diagnosis is severe ADHD, before I got that diagnosis I felt that I had Aspergers Syndrome. I got diagnosed with ADHD when I went in for an Aspergers Syndrome evaluation.

The doctor who tested me thought I couldn't have Aspergers because I had enjoyed playing pretend when I was little and I enjoyed reading fiction and stuff like that, and because I do like being around people. (Some say that people with autism get attached to things, instead of people. I don't really think this is true. Every child with autism that I have ever met has definitely been very attached to his or her family members and close friends! I think that for people with autism, forming attachments can be hard, not because they don't want to be friends with people, but because others look at their unusual mannerisms, communication difficulties, etc, and keep their distance.)

Its also worth noting that, if someone asked me, "DO you like to be around people?" I would say YES because I do want to belong. I like going to the bar with Jimmy and Diana, and I used to love our family parties at Tigerlily's parents' house, but I have a lot of trouble participating. I don't do things like walk around and mingle. I will sit and watch a band play, but I hate to sing or dance along! I will play darts but only if I can play for fun, because all I do is wildly chcuk the dart at the board and hope for the best. I can most often be seen sitting and watching everything. I want to be there to be around people and to feel like I have friends... but I am often left behind or ignored because I am "no fun."

I also know that I do get very attached to things.When I was a kid I would get extremely upset when my mom tried to get rid of my outgrown shoes, clothes, toys, etc, because I just couldn't part with those special things that I loved! And I get very quickly attached to animals. (I don't think of animals as things, but some people would count animals as things, I guess!)

Anyway. So I was bored today and took a few quizzes online regarding Aspergers Syndrome.

On this one I got a score of 34, where anything over 32 would usually mean autism or aspergers, and anything over 34 being "extreme."

And here are my results for this very interesting one:

Your Aspie score: 166 of 200
Your neurotypical (non-autistic) score: 42 of 200
You are very likely an Aspie
Your MBTI type: ISFJ

(that one I sort of felt was reading my mind with some of the questions!!!)

Another thing I noticed was that, on the Aspie quizzes, some of the things I got high scores for were things that I also got high scores on when I was evaluated for ADHD. But the aspie quiz included other questions, which I got high scores on, that were not included when I did ADHD evaluations.

So what do you think? I know some people have kids with autism spectrum disorders, and others of you may have ADHD or autism spectrum disorders yourself. DO I qualify as an Aspie?

 

Ugh! Seriously?

Okay, dudes. I have been without my meds for about five days now. The Target pharmacy cannot get ahold of my doctor to approve a refill... and since I am a county mental health patient, I can't contact him directly either! I am now so light-headed, I feel like I am walking without a floor underneath me!

Then,there is this issue... I opened up a checking account, and then, at the banker's suggestion, added a savings account, with "overdraft protection." I suck at math, so I always have trouble balancing a checking account, and my ADHD doesnt help with this! So my solution was to just always use my debit card instead of checks, and check my balance online each day to make sure I had enough money. Well, nobody told me that you can use your debit card on, say, Monday, and somehow it can end up not being withdrawn from your account until, say, Friday. So, when you see "Available Balance," it really means "Available until that $20 you spent at Target last week and forgot about finally shows up on your account. So... yep... I got overdrawn by twenty bucks. So the overdraft protection kicked in and took twenty bucks out of my savings account... except I didn't have twenty bucks in my savings account! And my savings account became overdrawn. Which I never knew was even possible. I mean, its not really protecting me from an overdraft if they take the money out of my savings account and then overdraft that, right?

I went to the bank and explained my mistake to the banker, who said she would wave the $25 overdraft fee. But then she said she couldn't do it, she had to email someone at the specific branch where I opened the account.

I waited several days. The overdraft was still there. I decided to call the branch where I opened the account, and tell them what the one bank manager had told me she'd do. They said they'd have someone call me back. Never happened!

Meanwhile, my saving account was becoming an additional eight bucks overdrawn each day because of the overdraft fees. So soon it was up to, like, eighty bucks!!!

I emailed the help line on the website and explained my problem. They said they'd waive half of my negatie balance, but not the other half, because it wasn't really a bank error.

That brought me down to forty bucks negative. But if I left it that way, I would keep on getting more eight dollar fees! So I had to transfer forty bucks out of my checking account to even it out. Leaving me with a grand total of three bucks in my checking account!

And this is the sad part... I was gonna make chocolate chip cookies with Pufferfish tomorrow, as part of Tot School because we are reading the If You Give A Mouse A Cookie books this week. But now I can't even afford the supplies for the cookies!

Maybe we'll read If You Give A Moose A Muffin tomorrow too. I think I can afford muffin mix!

Plus, even if my prescription does become available by tomorrow, I won't be able to get it until Saturday now.

And, Little Bear and Rafael have Friday off of school! So I will be completely unmedicated and on edge, with three little kids running me ragged all day!

This should be a fun couple of days! Wish me luck!

The Moral Of this Story Was...

... that two a.m. isn't the best time to try to communicate your deepest feelings and thoughts!

    After us not speaking at all for A WHOLE WEEK (it was torture!!!) me and Diana talked about the whole thing again and it made a lot more sense this time. Diana's feelings were that Jimmy and I (Jimmy is usually at home with me and the baby these days) were getting burnt out by the end of the day from trying to constantly entertain and clean up after our large, demanding flock, which usually, by after school, includes not only Little Bear, Pufferfish and Monkeyboy, but also Marcus, who is living with us again, and Rafael, who I babysit after school, and various other kids that trail Monkeyboy and Marcus home from school. Her point was that Pufferfish should be able to play by herself with her toys for some pieces of the day, instead of constantly following adults around and wanting direct interaction 24/7. (It may sound a little mean, but for real, she's right... Pufferfish has a room full of toys and she should learn to sit and play alone sometimes, using her imagination, without adult interference and guidance, right?) And also, that Little Bear, Rafael, Monkeyboy and Marcus need to do more around the house to help out, instead of Jimmy and I scrambling to get the house cleaned up by five-thirty each day. And that Marcus and Monkeyboy should turn off their video games and spend more time with the rest of us. And that I should spend more quality time with Monkeyboy, like I used to when he was younger.

You see, all of these specific points are a lot more understandable and less overwhelming than me just believing that Diana thought I ruined the kids!

The most difficult one for me, though, is Monkeyboy.

My special needs problems have always been a sore point between me and Diana, because she believes that my main problem is a lack of confidence, and that I do not have Aspergers or ADHD at all. It may be a familiar story to some people, because a lot of people with "invisible" disabilities hear from others that there is "nothing wrong with them" and that they could be like everyone else if they just tried harder. I think Diana's main message is that I shouldn't let my disability stop me from things. She gets irritated that I can be very responsible and take care of Little Bear and Pufferfish all day long, but with Monkeyboy and Sarah I interact with them more like I am their age. That is hard for me because I don't really know how to "make" myself be more mature. I can change specific things around the house, like the things about giving Pufferfish more unstructured time where she has to entertain herself, and makng the kids help out around the house. But I just don't know how to "act more mature." I wish I had a specific list of things I could work on to be more like an adult and less like just one of the older kids.

Anyway, more or less everything is back to normal, so... do you want to see our ABC Theme Tot SChool Week? Move on to the next post!

I've Missed You All So Much!

Hi everyone! Have you been wondering where I was? My debit card was declined for this blog, and even though I later had money in it, I could never use that debit card to pay for Typepad services again! So I had to wait until I had established a new bank account... partially just so I could have a debit card again! LOL... You don't understand how much I've missed having this blog to write in! I've missed it so much! I would compose blog posts in my mind each day, and I had no where to put them! When I was sad and upset, I wanted so badly to write about it, and I couldn't! It was torture!!!

I am in a bad space today. coincedentally. I want to talk about it or write about it instead of doing crazy things like cutting or having panic attacks or completely shutting down... but I am having trouble talking about it! I tried talking about it to Jimmy today but he thought I was talking about the Internet not working, and he just laughed and went to reset the thingy. And there really is nobody else. Except this blog.

I don't even know what to say.

The other day I found out that Diana is miserable with the way I've been taking care of the kids. She thinks the house is complete chaos, the kids hate each other, there are no rules, etc. She didn't even say it to hurt me. In fact, the opposite... she held it in for the past two years to keep from hurting me, and finally it just spilled out one night at two am. She said the kids have no structure and would be better off in Kinder-Care.

My heart and soul are broken. I can't even explain it. These kids are my redeeming grace, the one thing I was happy doing, the one thing I was proud of, where when other people in my family listed the ways I had screwed up in my life, I could at least point to the beautiful children I was helping to raise and say, "Well, I am doing something right!"

Somewhere in there, I fucked up.

I don't even necessarily think it is true! Sometimes I even think that I overstructure Pufferfish by filling her days with activities... We will do an art project, play a game, read some stories, go on an outing, work on some file folders, eat a healthy lunch organized into a muffin tin, and spend hours conversing... I love conversing with the alarmingly verbal little toddler... all in one day. She seems happy during the day. Afterschool is when all Hell breaks loose, because thats when Monkeyboy and Marcus and fifty of their closest friends come home, and when Little Bear and Rafael come tearing into the house. I try to control the chaos! I make them do their homework. Imake Little Bear practice her spelling and theme words each day and I check the little boxes on her chart to prove she did them. She missed two on her last spelling test so Diana thinks I don't work with her enough. It has been too cold to play outside, and they're not allowed to play in the basement anymore, so they run back and forth through the house until I threaten them with bodily harm! (LOL not really!)

Today I made them run a lap up and down the street before they did homework. It worked well. They sat down and did homework, and rafael actually focused on an entire math worksheet and did the whole thing with only one mistake!!! He never once jumped out of his seat and ran amock, or yelled nonsense words! Then he read me his entire reading list. And Little Bear finished her math homework, did an extra math page, and practiced her spelling without complaining. Then they played peacefully until it was time for Rafael to go home. I don't know if it was the lap they ran, or the fact that I kept reminding them, "Today we're going to practic being ca-a-alm inside the house!"

Then there is the dogs... they bark every time you make a move, and Lily chews on stuff, and even though she is mostly potty trained (she knows darn well that she is supposed to go outside to go potty) she likes to sneak into bedrooms to pee or poop when nobody is looking. The general concensus seems to be that I coddled the dogs and made them into annoying dogs that nobody wants anymore, and that this in turn contributed to the kids' behavior being ruined. But the thing is I was raised with dogs and they were all really great dogs who were well-trained and I love dogs and connect with dogs in a way that I cannot connect with anyone else. When I was thirteen my first dog, Zip, died of cancer. I flipped out and got so depressed. At the time my parents weren't planning on getting another dog, but partially because I was so depressed about Zip's death, and partially because my parents worked and I wasn't allowed to go outside without a friend and I didn't have any friends and I was scared to be alone so I would just sit at the kitchen table every day during summer break all day long... they changed their mind. We went to the pound and got a dog. When the people brought her out, we all sat down on the ground, and Chopper ran straight to me and sat in my lap and looked around all happy like she knew she belonged there. From then on she was always with me, she slept on my bed and constantly cuddled with me and played with me... like Zip had, but even more, because she was such a cuddly dog and Zip had been more hyper. Dogs calm me down, ease my anxiety and depression, and rarely annoy me. To me, dogs radiate so much love I can practically see it coming from them, and when I am around dogs I tend to get sort of addicted to them, because i love them so much... and people have always liked that about me, they thought it was cool that I was such an animal lover. But thats just the way I am, it isn't something I do consciously. I just gravitate towards animals.

Anyway it has been on my mind 24/7 with no relief. I have been taking Tylenol PM just to fall asleep because otherwise my mind just spins and spins and the words just repeat and repeat.

Diana is not speaking to me, and Jimmy just barely.

My mind goes back and forth with wanting to kill myself, like a constant conversation, "I'm gonna just kill myself... no, you're not, think of your mom and dad, imagine them crying... but I can't deal with life anymore... what about Little bear and Pufferfish, think of them having to go through that... I just want to be dead... but Sarah would be traumatized... but I am so sad... come on, this isn't such a big deal..." It goes on all night if I can't sleep! My ther alternative would be to just check into a mental hospital.But then my rational mind takes over and I know I don't really want to die, because my mind is like, "You can't really go to the hospital! What about the kids? What about school?"

I can't even look at the kids, or look at the dogs, or look at a picture of a dog, without feeling this horrible sinking feeling in my heart and stomach. but on the other hand, how could I ever wake up in a place where I couldn't look at them every day?

And if I've screwed this up, how can I ever do anything else good, like be a foster parent or even live on my own at all? If I've failed at this and its caused me to go into this bad of depression and anxiety, how can I deal with anything else in life? My mom was always telling me how I am going to be a failure and live in a house with cats all over the place and garbage and stuff and the police having to come and haul me off to  mental hospital. I always thought that she was just being mean. But now Diana has said it and that makes it true. diana wuldn't say it just to be mean, and she wasn't even being mean at the time or being angry, she was saying the truth.

It feels a little better to have been able to write all this down... but I still just don't know. I want someone to be here and tell me everything is going to be okay and that its not really true. I have no clue now what my role in this family is anymore. Now Jimmy is starting to do more with Pufferfish during the day, and I have no clue if it is because he just wants to start doing things with her because he's her daddy, or because it is now out in the open that I am not able to care for the kids well. I was emailing a lady about her daughter coming here during the week to be babysat, so I could make extra money, but now I don't know if I will be able to do that anymore. I don't know about anything! Nobody will talk to me! you all thought I was so great because of the crappy projects and Tot School stuff I posted here. But you see now that I am really not good at all.

Show Me The Money (Clip)

I have a bad habit of losing stuff, including money. I often keep my money stuffed in the back pocket of my jeans, or in the inside pocket of my coat. And it gets lost. One weekend, when I was visiting my parents, I lost twenty bucks! They were more mad than I was... they felt it was a major personality and moral flaw. But I suck at being organized... and I am so clumsy! I hate having a wallet, inside a purse, because when I go to pay for something, I have to fumble to open the purse, and then the zipper gets caught or something, then I have to fumble around trying to find the wallet, then open the wallet, fumble with the money... and I am all thumbs! It is an ADHD/Aspie thing, partially! For me it is easier to just grab a wad of money from my pocket, peel off what I want, and put the rest back in my pocket... although it seems too easy for money to just slide out of there!

So for Christmas, my dad (the goofy one) got me a money clip! And it was working wonderfully! I had all of my cards (driver's license, library cards, debt card, etc) clipped to one side, and my money clipped to the other. It was nice and heavy in my pocket, so I always was aware that I had it. Plus, because it was from my dad, I was especially careful not to lose it. It was the kind of thing that I was constantly subconsciously touching my back pocket to make sure I still had it.

So, the other morning, it snowed so much, that Rafael's mom suggested I wait a while to take him to school, until after the traffic had died down. I was still wearing my pajama pants, which didn't have a pocket, so I had my money clip in the pocket of my sweatshirt. To kill time after Little Bear left for school, I was playing Hide And Seek with Rafael... except, he kept finding me, because wherever I hid, the dogs would follow me!

At one point the money clip fell out of my pocket, and I picked it up and told Rafael, "Hey, thats my money clip! It has my money clipped to it!" (Which, by the way, it didn't... I had only gotten ready to take Rafael to school so I hadn't taken any money.)

Then I drove Rafael to school. The doors were already locked, so I parked, went up to the school to ring the bell, walked into the office with Rafael, and then went back to my car. I drove home. I walked into the house. I took off my jacket. I reached for my money clip.

It was gone!

And I. Looked. Everywhere.

I've been looking for it day and night, left and right! I tore my car apart searching for it, I reached my arms deep down into the guts of all of the couches (and found a belt, a handful of pretzels, some change, Lily's squeaky ball, a pen, some crayons, and random other objects!) I tore apart the bucket in the coat closet, and found the library book that Little Bear has been missing since the week before winter vacation! I offered all of the kids ten dollars to anyone who found my money clip.

But. Nothing.

It will be a pain in my butt to try to replace all the cards that were on the clip, but not impossible. So I'm not as upset about that as I am about the fact that my dad got me that money clip so I wouldn't lose money, and it really did work... and then I lost the entire money clip! I am just disappointed in myself.

Even more frustrating is the fact that the money clip has to be somewhere in this house! I didn't go anywhere, except to take Rafael to school, and I even asked inside the school if anyone had turned it in.

I'm afraid it might be buried in the snow somewhere outside. It snowed a lot that day.

I want to find it! I could cry! I am crestfallen!

Everyone, please send me positive thoughts and visions of finding my money clip! (To help you, I've included a picture of a similar money clip, at the top of this post. Except mine doesn't have a hundred dollar bill in it!)

Wish me luck!

Postman, Deliver This Letter To 1992!

Being at my mom's often brings back memories and feelings from back in the day. Obviously I could never send this letter... I am just venting... but what better place for it than here in my blog?

Dear anonymous parents of the "problem" child,

    You wonder what is the matter with your child. She does not fit in with the rest of the family. She does not fit in with the rest of the world. When this child was a baby, you imagined that you would build a magnificent little person... a little person much like yourself, only better. A little person who would prove to the world that you could be a successful parent. But things didn't seem to work out the way you hoped. And now you are not quite sure what to do with this child, this kid who doesn't do things like all the rest. This kid who doesn't fit in at school or at home. This kid who seems to stumble in the wrong direction all the time. Her horrible grades, her lack of social skills, her odd mannerisms, her lack of interest in the things other girls her age like... where did this little alien come from?

    The school tells you that this child might need help. But you did not want to be that parent, the one with the child who needs help from others! So you scream at your child. You shout that she is lazy, and ignorant. You tell her she doesn't care about anyone but herself. You belittle her for acting like she needs help. Because how can she need help? You never needed help! You were never that child! The school now wants you to sign her assignment notebook each and every day, to prove that the child did her homework. How humiliating for you! Why can't your child just independently do her homework like all the other kids? Does your child just want others to think she is retarded? That must be it. What a loser your child has turned out to be. These are the words you shout at your child... although you tell yourself, she won't even hear you, she won't even care, she won't get the message. If you shout enough, won't she just snap out of it and become normal?

    Your child starts acting out, and gets in trouble. You blame her friends. She seems to seek out friends who have problems. You've heard they have problems at home. This must be the root of it all. Your child wants to be like those problem children! But your home is fine! A fine home, you've created for this child! Look at the couches, they are beautiful! Look at the dining room table, it is set perfectly! Just look at the Nintendo you've supplied your kids with! What a fine home! If you and your spouse fight constantly, if your spouse gets arrested, if  there are other troubles, so what... they are not your child's business. Your child's job is to go out and show the world what a fine parent you are. 

      Besides, as of late, when you fight with your spouse, the fights about her, that problem child, the child who is ruining your family!

      You will not listen to those who suggest your child has ADHD, has some type of autism, has some sort of learning problems. How dare your child be that child, anyway? You will not seek help for your child, until it is too late and the powers that be force you to. But by then, it will be too late.

    I am warning you now, your words are what will destroy your child's spirit. The hateful look in your eyes are what will break her heart. If you had beaten her mercilessly, it would not have hurt as much as this. As she gets older, and goes into the world, she will look for others who will hurt her, and she will not trust those who do not. She will grow older, but she will not grow up. She will not have the tools to be an adult. She will resent herself for being such a loser. She will hate herself for not making you proud. She will try to destroy herself. 

    But if you receive this letter, perhaps it is not too late! Swallow your pride, and love your odd child the way she is. Find ways to help her through her life. Teach her how to care for herself. It will not take much. It will not kill you to sign the notebook. It will not kill you to seek extra support for her in school. Maybe a tape recorder to record the lessons, since she has trouble taking notes? Could you find the money for a tutor like they advertise on TV, the kind who specializes in helping kids who are difficult to teach? Can you find something positive, something extra, for your child to focus her talents on? You are the adult here. What can you do to save your child? 

Stranger At The CVS

Here's a strange story about something that happened... or, rather, something that didn't happen!

Every day at around 2:15 I take Pufferfish and go pick up Rafael from his school, and then go get Little Bear at her school. Today, on the way to get Rafael, Pufferfish and I stopped at CVS to pick up a few things. As I got Pufferfish from her car seat, I saw a lady, all bundled up and with a scarf over her face, standing outside the store. The lady was African American. I watched her stop an African American man who came out of the store, and ask him for a ride to the train depot. The man said "No," and walked to his car. Then the lady stopped an African American woman and asked her for a ride to the train depot. The woman brushed her off, saying she was pressed for time.

I was a little nervous that the lady would ask me for a ride, so I sidled past her as she was still talking to the other woman.

As I walked through the store, I thought about the lady outside. I wondered if I should tell a store employee that the woman was outside, asking for rides and making people uncomfortable. But I decided not to. I have been in that situation before, where I had to depend on strangers like that.

I thought about it more, and decided that, if the lady asked me, maybe I would give her a ride to the train depot! I used to do that kind of thing all of the time. And my brothers and I used to hitchhike a lot ourselves. We depended on people to trust us. We used to go up to people in parking lots and ask them for a ride to the next town, or back to where we were staying, or to a church that would help us with money or food. And, more often than not, we used to get rides! I don't remember ever not getting a ride within an hour of starting to look for one.

When I first got my own car, I used to give people rides myself, as well. I remember going to court for my brother, and being asked by a couple outside the courthouse for a ride to the train depot. I took them. I didn't get killed. I remember staying in a Motel 6 and a lady knocking on my door and asking for a ride to the grocery store. I gave her one. She didn't kill me, and we became good friends for a while after that. I remember when I lived in an apartment complex, people who knew I had a car would come and ask me for a ride to somewhere, and I always agreed to it. I never died. In my experience, if you trusted people and were kind to them, they would behave accordingly, and you would get to meet lots of interesting people and hear great stories in the process. It has been a long time since I have begged for, or given, a ride. It would be nice to help this lady out, wouldn't it?

But when Pufferfish and I walked outside, the lady said nothing to us.

As I helped Pufferfish back into her car seat, I saw two African American women and an African American man walk up to the store. The lady asked them for a ride, and they said no.

It seemed like she was only asking African American people for rides! Was it because she just didn't like white people, or did she assume that, since she was African American, other African Americans would be more likely to trust her and give her a ride?

I thought about going up to the lady and actually offering to give her a ride, but I didn't. I went to pick up Rafael from school.

On the way to pick up Little Bear, we passed the CVS. The lady was still there, looking for a ride. I pointed her out to Rafael. "See that lady? She is asking people for a ride but nobody will give her one!"

"She looks like a ninja," Rafael observed.

"Hmm, she kinda does, with her black scarf over her face," I agreed.

"Its a good thing we didn't give her a ride! She would be nice when you talked to her, but once she got in your car she would try to kill us," said Rafael.

"What makes you think that?" I wondered. It seemed like a pretty dramatic conclusion for a 6-year-old to come up with.

"I saw her on TV," said Rafael. "On the news! They said, `Don't let this lady in your car, because she'll be nice to you when she asks you, but when she's in your car she will try to kill you.' They said she had her face covered like a ninja."

I thought about it and imagined the lady pulling a gun from her heavy winter jacket as she got into the car. So much for trusting people!

The whole escapade could have been a social science experiment, like one of those "What Would You Do" shows on TV where they try to see how many people would ignore a person in need. Did the woman by the CVS ignore me because I was white, and she thought a white person wouldn't give her a ride? Or did she ignore me because I had a baby with me? If I were a better person, would I have gone and offered her a ride? Would I have ended up being carjacked? Is Rafael, at age 6, already jaded by life because he assumes a person asking for a ride is a killer/ Or did he really see that lady on TV? Will these questions follow me for the rest of my life?

What about you? Would you have given the lady a ride?

Back To Nature... and a few updates!

I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who commented on my last post, in which I was feeling very badly. Your kind words and encouragement meant so much to me! I don't have many people in "real life" who I can talk to right now, and it helps to know that at least there are a few people out in the world who understand and don't hate me. To answer one question, I have been on medication for depression (Celexa) for about nine years, on and off, but it doesn't seem to be working as well as it used to. I am really wary of medications because when I was a kid I was put on a really heavy medication that turned me into a zombie! My fear is ending up having to take all different kinds of psychotropic medications on a daily basis for the rest of my life, just in hopes of feeling normal!
At any rate I have still been feeling pretty crappy and hopeless. I am going to try calling the county health department today to see if I can at least go to a regular psychiatrist so maybe they can mess around with my medications. I've heard that if you are already taking a medication you can add Abilify and it will be like a booster or something. The last time I called the county to ask about medication management, they said I wasn't crazy enough and that they only helped people with severe mental illnesses, but maybe if I tell them I've been on the brink of suicide, they'll let me have an appointment???
Jimmy has been working this week so I have been watching the munchkins, which has been a welcome distraction. Today they are spending the day with their grandma though. Yesterday we had a pretty good day. We have been learning about birds, so we went to the grocery store and bought a couple bags of sunflower seeds (which can be bought with food stamps, unlike regular wild bird food!) and brought them down to our favorite nature center as a donation for the birds. We took a walk around the nature center and looked at all of the animals.
Little Bear really loves animals, and she says she wants to work at a nature center when she grows up, so she can hold and feed all of the animals! At this nature center, outside every cage there is a sign posted with the story of how the animal ended up there. Most have been injured too badly to be able to survive in the wild, and several were illegally raised in captivity until they were too tame to ever survive in the wild. Whenever we go to the nature center, I read the stories and tell the kids how the animals got there. And Little Bear remembers all those stories! This was the first time that we'd gone there in quite a while, and Little Bear knew which animals were new, and asked me to read the stories. And she remembered the stories of the other animals. I couldn't remember what animal was around one corner, but Little Bear told me, "Oh, that is the fox who lost his foot!" We walked up to the cage, and sure enough, she was right... it was a three-legged fox!
Here are a couple of pictures I took at the nature center.
By the way, can anyone borrow me $13.00 through Paypal ([email protected]) so I can get my cat some food? He is all out, and I don't have any cash left, after paying for my prescription the other day! I wish food stamps covered cat food! Sammy-Joe eats Wellness Brand food, and it is $13.00 for the small bag. If anyone could borrow it to me through Paypal, I will send it back to you on Monday!
OK, here are the pics...
Little Bear looking at a cage of birds.

Little Bear holds a "class" for me and Pufferfish inside the Quiet Reading Corner at the Nature Center!

I was trying to get Pufferfish to look at me and point to the birds at the same time, but it was just confusing her! I don't know what she was doing in this picture!

Pufferfish clamoring into the Quiet Reading Corner.

This is a cool little pond in the butterfly garden, with goldfish and frogs and stuff in it!

These next two pictures are my favorites... I want to put them in frames or something!

We spotted this duck just sitting there peacefully, standing on one foot!

Thanks for coming back, everyone! I'll write more soon!

Get Well Soon, Maybe!

So, as far as sicknesses go, things have kinda settled down in our house. Little Bear seems to be completely over her stomach flu, and even spent the day with Tigerlily's family yesterday swimming in the backyard kiddy pool! Pufferfish is still having some trouble breathing, and is extremely whiny, but other than that she's not sick anymore. And I have a horrible ear infaction, which caused me to go to the ER on Friday because it was hurting me so badly and I could barely hear out of it! It still feels really weird, like its all stuffed up, and everything sounds weirder in that ear... kind of like how it feels when you need to "pop" your ears on an airplane, except I can't "pop" mine! It's stuck that way! Torture!!! But I've got antibiotics and Vicadin for it, at least!
I'm feeling crappy in other ways, too, today. I wrote here about some of the things that are going awry lately. And I'm just having a lot of trouble dealing with things. I've been going through really bad depression problems. When you're already prone to depression, the problem is that any little thing can send you spinning into it. Like, you could be walking down the street feeling OK, a little tired and stressed out but no big deal, and then you see a dead cat on the side of the road. And that might make a regular person sad, especially if they like cats, but if the person is prone to depression, it can send them spinning  into a bad episode of depression.
And thats how its been with me, these last few weeks. I've just been hyper-sensitive to anything happening around me. All someone has to do is fart into the wind and I start thinking, "Everyone hates me anyway, nobody wants me around, I just wanna be dead!" Thinking about wanting to be dead has been a constant battle, where I'm pretty much always trying to convince myself to stay alive.
I've even thought about going to the hospital. There's some hospitals out here where supposedly if you don't have insurance they'll sliding-scale the bill down to zero. But there's two main reasons why I don't...
1. Because Jimmy is working on Diana's mom's house these days, and might actually need me to babysit, and so I should stay out of the hospital so I can actually get some money, and staying busy with the kids does help me a lot, at least it offers an eight-hour period of respite for my brain because then I focus on stimulating the kids and taking care of them.
2. If I go to the hospital someone will surely tell my parents. And this would be my worst nightmare. Despite the fact that I am 30, my parents have tons of control over me and my life, because of my special  needs problems. And they totally don't want me to have special needs. They want me to be upstanding and independent, preferably just like them. If I show any signs of weakness (such as admitting myself to a hospital, that would be a MAJOR sign of weakness) they take it to mean that I am losing control of my life and that they need to take control of my life. If they found out I was in a hospital, within hours they'd be having meetings with my doctors, telling them all sorts of things about me (ie: "Her room is a mess, isn't that a sign of psychoticness?") They'd get the doctors and other professionals wrapped around their fingers, then they'd personally take me home so they could care for me, by telling me exactly what to do and not do, and by being sure to take away whatever things in life bring me some happiness. (Won't be able to see Little Bear and Pufferfish, because I shouldn't be taking care of them in the first place! Won't be able to sleep, because then I'm escaping from reality! Etc, etc, etc.) Plus my mom's theory is, "Its fine if you want to be depressed, but don't let it effect our lives." Its all about control to them. So. My biggest motivation to not going to the hospital is to maintain the illusion that I am doing great in life, so my parents will leave me alone. Because I'm 30!!!

So, basically, I'm tired of being me. I'm tired of being such a big disappointment to everyone, and making everyone angry all the time. I'm tired of being a pain in the butt everywhere I go, and constantly feeling like nobody wants me around, but that they're just letting me be around out of obligation. I really feel like I've lost everything. I feel like there's no way forward for me. This is not who I wanted to be, in life. When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up and get out of my parents' house ASAP... in fact, I left home several times, starting when I was 15, and kept on getting dragged back here! I used to envision myself becoming a published author by the time I was 21, getting my own place to live shortly thereafter, becoming a foster parent, and creating my own chosen family where I would always have a place to belong, and where unwanted children like the child I used to be would also always have a place to belong.
But its kind of like, my worst nightmare came true... instead of becoming independent, and creating a place for unwanted children to feel loved, I just remained the perpetually unwanted "child", a burden on society, forever and ever and ever.

Where'd Everybody Go?

A few days ago I realized that my one-year blogoversary for this blog is coming up. (Its this Wednesday!) I decided to go back and start reading my blog from the start, marveling at how much had changed and how much the kids had grown in the course of a year.
But then I noticed something else! When I first started this blog, I got seven or eight comments a day... and just for regular posts, not blog carnivals or anything like that. But after a few months, the comments faded away Now I am lucky if I get one or two comments! Most people get more readers after a year of blogging, but I seem to have gotten less!
I mean, I mostly blog for my own peace of mind. Its occurred to me that when the kids are older I can print out all these entries and photos, or put them on a disk, for them to keep. It will be cool to be able to have these daily memories forever.
But should I be insulted? What has changed about my blog that makes people not want to come back? Has my writing gotten too newsy? Are there too many photos? Am I just boring? Is it because I'm not a real "mommy" blogger, I'm an auntie? Is it because the children are named after animals???
While you mull that over, here are a few pictures of Pufferfish for your viewing enjoyment.