Fuel made from what…

So I was a complete crazy person today and got super mad at my husband for not waking up quick enough to get me to knitting before the whole group was there. Mostly because my anxiety disorder gets tricked when I see people come in one at a time so it doesn’t bother me as much as when I walk into a room full of people. But anyway I happened to be unnecessary and mean so I used my tiny bit of money I have earned so far to take him out for lunch.

While we were driving around like idiots trying to decide where to eat we saw people on the side of the road. Now I live in a small town. Like a everyone knows everyone small town. And we have fake homeless. I don’t know if this is a huge issue in other places because I don’t travel. But here our homeless people are just lazy people who stand around with signs and get grungy when they know an event that brings tourists is going on. Today it was the trail of tears.

So my husband looks over at me when we drive by these fake homeless people and asks…

“Do we know how to convert the homeless to fuel yet?Because we should. Then we would have less homeless and they could contribute to society. Everyone wins.”

He is just as crazy as me but in such a different way. I think we need each other to balance out. Or at least he needs me to tell him you can’t just say you want to turn people to fuel. Not even fake homeless people who prey on others kindness.


knitting directly conflicts with progress…

So I really wish I could make a job of knitting. I know a ton of people do. But I can’t look at people just trying to learn a new thing and charge them money. I teach for free at our community library.

And I can’t ever sell the stuff I make. And by that I mean either won’t, or that the stuff I make is made out of expensive yarn so it would be like 90 dollars for a shawl. And that is if I charge less than minimum wage for labor. So I just make pretty things, and I love it. But now I have a ton of stuff just shoved in my closet that is beautiful and doesn’t get worn enough.

And I know I could just knit like 1000 scarves, but that is so boring. So in short my knitting is just for me. It is also not getting done because I had to get a job to help out a little…and also for my sanity.

Now I am going to go try to knit one of my 10 unfinished things while my 10 month old pulls on my yarn. I think she is going to grow up to be a marvelous knitter, or not,  no pressure.

Knit don’t stab…

So I knit. I know that might not be apparent. I have high hopes of actually having the time to put up some of my projects here. The important thing is that I found a shirt that says I knit so I don’t kill people. And while I am not super violent, this shirt pretty much has me pegged.

I use knitting as a way to manage my anxiety levels and it really works. Probably not as much medication would but it will have to do until they can come up with a medicine that doesn’t cause me to have psychotic mood swings. Because out of the two, I choose horrible anxiety.

Knitting really does help me manage all my stress and anxiety. I wish I had found it sooner. Or maybe not seeing as how my husband tells me it makes me act just like a 90 year old woman. It was probably for the best that I landed a guy first. It could have been hard if my first priority was yarn to have gotten married. I don’t think men like that.

My random breakdown…

Okay  so I have pretty severe anxiety disorder.  The day before yesterday I had a pretty severe breakdown. I can usually control these things. I have had a ton of practice over the years. But this issue involved my child so I flipped out, badly.

I have to give some background or this won’t make sense and it helps me to write it down anyway so here we go. My mother was pretty abusive, both emotionally and mentally.  I attribute some of my aforementioned anxiety to this, but anyway I have tried to build a relationship with her now that I am older and sometimes that goes well. And sometimes she flips her lid and things go horribly wrong.

I got out of an abusive relationship a few years ago and now am married to a wonderful man. This might sound like a change in subject but hang with me a second. The whole time I was in the horrible relationship my mom had not one word to say. She left me alone and never really even talked to me. As soon as I get in this relationship with this wonderful man who literally does everything he can for us my mom wants to imply he is a horrible father. I am not going to go into all the details, it would take forever, but just know this is a horrible thing to have to go through.

So my wonderful husband makes it where I haven’t had to work for a few years, but I am going crazy only having children to interact with. So I get a very small part time job. Which in itself was a battle because of my anxiety. My mother says she will watch the kids for me while I work for all of 3 hours. The very first day she does this I come back to get the children and she begins to tell me she is worried for my oldest. He is 8.

The thing to know about him is he also has anxiety disorder.  Diagnosed by a psychologist.  Not just some made up thing I say he has. Well apparently he told her he was scared of my husband. And this is something he struggles with because he has a ton of irrational fears. So if he tells you he is scared it isn’t the same as a normal child. There is some obscure thing that is bothering him. But my mother just flipped out and said he was a bad father and I shouldn’t let him tell my son what to do. Let me add here that abuse is not a light subject for me, since I was abused. So my abusive mother telling me that my husband who wouldn’t hurt a fly was being too rough on my child and implying he was abusive made me freak out. I have triggers. That is one of them. Good to know.

Needless to say it didn’t go well. We yelled. I had a full panic attack which caused all manner of other physical horrible symptoms. And I am still recovering. And she is pretending nothing happened because that is what she does. So why blog. I came home and discovered the bloggess and it helped me laugh. And I thought if she wrote about all of  her problems and made people feel better then maybe I could write about mine and it might help someone too.

And as for my son. He dwells on things and freaks himself out. Which is very common for someone with anxiety. In this situation it was that his daddy is in the army. He was thinking about war because my mother had been watching the news, which we do not watch in my house for this very reason. He watched the news and starting thinking about what his dad might have done while he was deployed. And got scared. And my mother decided to make that about him being a horrible father. And I don’t have words for how angry that makes me.

It very hard for me to know that my mother cannot ever be normal with me. Every single time i let my guard down with her this happens. EVERY. TIME. And you would think I would learn. But I never do. Maybe one day…