All Alone With the Ugliness

Really that should say it all but I will elaborate.  There has been so much going on for the past few months.  Things I haven't either been ready to write about or that I just can't muster the focus to pound out such seriousness.  Maybe a little of both.

Haylee, my 9 year old has some eating issues.  I have had her at the doctor.  She has been evaluated, poked for blood and even done a swallow test.  For every excuse that she has to not eat it has been countered with medical evidence.  I'm not hungry.  It hurts to swallow.  My tooth is loose.  I don't want to eat chocolate chip muffins because it's brown and it reminds me of poo.  It makes my lips hurt.  Except for I don't want to get fat.  She has an appointment in a few weeks with a counselor.  Her Pediatrician threw out it may not be an eating disorder but more of an anxiety disorder where she just happens to be fixating on food.  Excuse my lack of formal training but isn't that a fucking eating disorder?  She was all too excited when she realized she lost five pounds putting her five pounds from needing to be back in a booster seat according to KY law.  It's not only the worry of the whole situation but the arguing with her daily to eat anything at all.  We have taken special grocery trips where I have let her pick out anything she wants.  I have even bought her baby food.  She did a little better directly following the doctor's appointment but has fell back into the whole I'm not eating routine.  So I try to pyschoanalyze and think maybe she liked the attention of the doctor.  Perhaps a weekly trip to a therapist will motivate her to eat....even if she gets a shitty therapist.  Another source of distress.  I hate picking a fucking doctor out of a directory.  Especially, when it is for something as important as this.  I have had crazy, quack doctors and I am not about to let some crazy, quack do a number on her head.  I am sure I am going to fuck her up all on my own, I don't need any PhDs to give it that extra push.

Another reason for stress, Beau.  I feel like he is pulling away from me.  So my catastrophic thinking takes over even when logic tries to prevail.  It seems like we barely talk anymore.  I feel so out of the loop.  His sister's SUV has been sitting in my driveway since her car accident in the middle of February and I just found out two days ago that he was supposed to be working on it.  Which he wasn't so, of course, I didn't know.  He didn't tell me one of the niece's was having a birthday gathering at his Mom's this weekend until a few hours before and that was after Avery told me it was canceled and I asked about it.  It drives me crazy not having advance notice for anything and he knows this.  I like a plan.  I need a plan.  He is building some kind of crazy ass barrel boat floating deck with his friend.  I am unsure who is funding the floating deck shit that is currently sitting in my driveway (yes, my driveway is jam-packed) but he says his friend is and the friend says "It's everybody's boat"  so it begs the question who gets the boat if the Bromance dissolves?  At least it's not a dog.  It may just be my paranoia but it just seems like everyone is hell bent on keeping shit from me.  Maybe they think I am too fragile...or too hostile.  Who knows?  The only thing I know is that my beach vacation is parked in front of the shed still awaiting the renovation completion.

I went to the doctor last week for the annual physical.  Honestly, it's been three years since I have had a full physical and I was thinking I was having a thyroid issue or the diabetes has set in.  I had gestational diabetes twice so it wouldn't be unexpected.  I have gained a crazy amount of weight in just a few months and my diet and lifestyle hasn't been any different than always.  I spoke to the Dr's assistant today and she reports my thyroid and sugar are normal but my cholesterol is high.  Apparently, I have gravy chugging through my veins so a prescription is in order to correct it.  Yippee.  One more fucking pill.  I guess if I want to live I will jump on the treadmill and eat a plain, nasty-ass salad everyday.  Or maybe I won't.  There are eight places that I can crash my car successfully without harming any innocent bystanders on my way from dropping the girls at school.  Five, if I am not dropping the neighbor kid at her school.  I counted them today.

I don't understand the mood I am in.  I am semi-OK one minute and the next everything is so hopeless, worthess....ugly.

Bipolar is ugly.  Life is ugly.  But I kind of feel better now.