Last night, I had a bit of medication, my own variety, a bit extra, and a drink. I seem to indulge a bit more these days, possibly because I have a 13 year old, and no matter how great she is at her core, she is 13. And sometimes I have a hard time understanding her. Because at 13, I was watching my mom die, as my family (the "men") were being chronically apathetic, so I became the new mom in the house. I did everything. I cooked and cleaned and did yard work (even with a broken foot, the "men" just let everything grow over, so I hobbled out in my crutches with frighteningly dangerous lawn care items that were full of explosive gasoline, and I revved them up and tried my hardest to not fall over and chop my head off. They probably would not have noticed, until dinner was not on the table.
My daughter, she has so much support in this house. Perhaps not at her dads, but her level of apathy toward certain things makes me wonder if she has it too good. Or that her dads house is filled with the fragrance of chronic apathy, just like mine was, and she has resigned to not pick up the slack.
She has jobs here, and does them when reminded. She gets paid. This will stop soon, as hubby and I discussed a NEW pay scale. She does it on her own, without being nudged? Extra money! Reminders? Docked. 3 reminders? She doesn't get paid. And if we have to do it, she will pay US to do her job. That will go in a special place for us to enjoy date night. We'll see how this goes, but I did not raise my child to be like her father.
Anyway, last night my head got so fuzzed out that I worried. It felt like I had an old fashioned cloth tied around my head, like the old school cartoon characters who had a toothache. I figured it was all the stuff I consumed.
Tonight - nothing. Kombucha, water, stir fried veggies and some faux-slaw (cabbage and onions in a little mayo, yum!) So, what gives? I'm now toothache cartoon gal again.
Maybe it's anxiety, depression, endometriosis, a blood clot about to kill me - the internet is full of fun stuff! But I wonder if this is still the meds exiting the building. I did get my period today (halleloooo!) and am crampy, but this head thing makes me think I'm coming, Elizabeth!
I'm not afraid of the Angel of Death, as Ruiz suggests we should not be. And I get it. It's easier to live my life, knowing I could die now. Or now. Or now. But this fuzzy head makes me think I have to make sure all my ducks are in a row. Because who's going to take care of my ducks if they're all over the place?
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