I’m Going Deep, In Over My Head I Want To Be Caught In The Rush, Lost In The Flow, In Over My Head I Want To Go

So I got an unexpected call today.

I was at work at the swimming pool called me. Little E was on a field trip (and will be on the same one for the next three Wednesday’s) for swimming lessons. They spend 30 minutes for lessons and then have 30 minutes for free time. Well, they called to inform me that Little E had just been pulled from the pool by the lifeguard.

The guard had seen him struggling under water in the deep end and had to jump in a save him.

Now I honest to goodness before today felt pretty confident in Little E’s swimming abilities. We were out in the lake practically everyday last summer and I feel fine letting him go out chest deep on his own. I mean I’m there on the beach and I’m a great swimmer (I’m embarrassed to say I was in synchronized swimming when I was younger) so if anything happened I’m there. I’ve seen him swim his laps in the pool to be able to swim in the deep end and feel comfortable leaving him there while I relax in the hot tub with Z.

So to hear that something happened enough that the lifeguard literally had to dive in to save him? Disconcerting for lack of better word. The caller informed me he was doing fine now and was back in the water with a life jacket on now, but that it was just protocol to call the parents when that type of situation occurred. Uh duh. I should hope so!

She also told me that I should monitor his behaviour for the next three days for any flu like symptoms or sluggish behaviour that might indicate secondary drowning (or something like that, I was just trying to absorb everything she was saying). Either way, if I see anything different about him in the next few days, I have to take him immediately to the emergency as it might indicate that he inhaled water and is slowly drowning.

Grrrrreat.

Here I’m glad at the moment he’s ok. But there’s so many thoughts going through my head. In no random order, I hope he wasn’t to embarrassed. Little E is my sensitive and very easily embarrassed child and I can just imagine how being pulled from the water in front of his entire classroom and then being made to wear a life jacket after has affected him.

Next. How did it happen? I know he’s a good swimmer. So was he just fooling around with his friends and get pushed under? Or did he actually just wear out and start struggling on his own? Not that it matters in the end as I wouldn’t cast blame, but I like to know these things.

Also, should I be monitoring him 24/7? Like should I stay awake through the night? Or set hourly alarms to check in on him? Or is that paranoia speaking?

Next. Why the fuck do these things keep happening to my family.

Dear universe. That’s more than enough thank you very much.

But last, it made me realize that I could have lost my son today and there’s so many things I’ve failed to teach him still. There’s so many ways I’ve fucked up so far and it just made me think of all the things I had to fix before I die let alone him. I wasn’t ready. For the first time in my mind, I wasn’t ready for death. I’ve been prepared for my own death for whatever long now. I couldn’t care less, and had zero fear facing that. But to be faced with the death of my child before me? Thats the only thing that has terrified me in recent times this deeply. He’s not yet had a chance to experience anything deeply enough to die. I felt like if he died I would have failed in protecting him. That I didn’t ensure his success. There are too many ways to describe it, but basically I felt like I needed more time with him to set him up for a chance to discover his will to live and choose and die on his own.

And now is not that time.

-Dive/Steven Curtis Chapman-

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I Find Myself Longing For Change And In The Bad Times I Fear Myself

Monday I had a friend over and I got so drunk. Something I’ve done less than a handful of times in my entire life. Drinking is really not something I find desirable shall we say. Anyways, life has been stressing me out more than normal and so I just let it all go. Nothing crazy happened that night but I mention it only so that when I say I missed two calls from the prison, you’ll understand why. It’s because I was so drunk I spent the night caressing the porcelain throne as opposed to watching for calls lol.

I remember being slightly upset when I saw the missed calls on my phone but it was right when I started to feel sick and the nauseated feeling definitely outweighed the sorrow of missing a phone conversation.

Which brings us to Wednesday, when I’m at work. AT WORK!!! And the COMPANY PHONE RINGS, and its the prison number. At work, on the company phone. Not even my own personal cell phone number anymore. This time, it was a female prisoner calling from somewhere in the country (I can’t remember now but I know I recognized the name of the city at the time of the call) but it was registering as the same number that calls my phone. I guess all the prisons use the same outgoing number? I’m not sure. Either way, I answered the call. Apparently it was some girl looking for her aunt. She asked if I was Anne. Nope I’m not. Then she asked if I was someone else (can’t remember I was so in shock, like literally what in the world was going on) so I said no. And she said she was looking for her aunt and I said sorry I can’t help and basically hung up. I was at work and this was just getting crazy now. Then I just let out one of those shocked laugh/chuckle things which led my co-worker to ask what happened, so I explained what happened.

So my boss A storms around the corner ‘that’s not funny’ ‘this has to stop’ Insinuating that I’ve arranged this somehow, or I have power over when the phone rings. Look I’m at work doing my job answering the phone YOU told me to answer. But he just kept going on and on about how if ‘they’re tracking me, and now know where I work, and are calling me here, then they are probably tracking him and my co-worker and it puts everyone in danger’. Etc.

I’m like don’t flatter yourself buddy. Trust me. No one has any interest in you. But good to know your a little bitch who lives in fear. But instead of feed his fear, I did my best to calm him down and explain it was a misdial and it was a girl from a different prison and she was looking for her aunt and all I did was answer the call so he backed off. For the moment. But then throughout the day he used our inter-office messaging system and it kept popping up on my computer…

‘Any more calls like that and you must report them to me immediately’

‘The likelihood of those calls being unrelated are highly unlikely’

I just kept thinking dude just back off and let me do my work. Right now, your causing more of a disturbance and threat to my peace than those calls ever did. I’m sorry you search out fear and panic, but I’m just going to move on and forget about it. If something happens then I’ll deal with it then. But for now, I’ve got enough REAL junk in my life that I’m not gonna create delusional shit in my mind.

So. Lol. Anyone else have ‘random’ prison calls at work and home?

-Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper / Shallow-

So Please Help Them With Your Youth, They Seek The Truth Before They Can Die.

So it’s here.

That’s time of the day when the kids have gone to sleep and the lunches are packed and the house is clean because I spent all day vacuuming (I even did between/under the couch cushions) and mopping and scrubbing. All three loads of laundry are clean and folded and even put away. The dishes are washed and drying. We even went for groceries that are now all put away nicely. The kids are sleeping on freshly washed bedding with freshly washed bodies and freshly brushed teeth.

And then it hits me. In the silence as I stand in my bedroom. The thing I’ve been avoiding for forever.

There’s nothing left to do.

There’s nothing left to try and preoccupy my mind and keep it busy to pretend like I’m not constantly thinking about what I’m unfortunately thinking about.

The emptiness is literally all around and I’m engulfed in silence.

I never thought my life would get to this point. To this completely and utterly alone point. Where there’s nothing left to distract me. There’s no way to even pretend I’m in the most lonely place in the world.

I’m in my mind. Alone.

And I hate it.

It happens every night even I get undressed and ready for bed alone. When the house is in total silence except for the few familiar sounds I make. But that’s it. There’s no music blaring in fear of waking the kids. I don’t sit in the living room and watch tv because that seems like a couples thing. I put the kids to bed, clean up, and then I go to my room. I own this whole house, but I find myself stretched out on my bed, even now, writing this post from my phone. Sure the office is a few rooms away with a fully functional computer and a nice chair etc, but it feels uncomfortable. Not in the soft squishy sense. But uncomfortable in the fact that it’s not what I’m used to.

I’m a creature of habit. And my habit is to be safe, and warm. Not venture out in the dark alone. So when my kids are asleep… I’m here. On my bed. Endlessly scrolling instagram hopefully for its stupid entertainment. Listening to music, needing it to fill my void. Watching pointless things on Netflix.

But its in that moment before I get ‘settled’ on the bed, that the hopelessness finds me. Each night getting worse. The feeling or ‘why even bother’ ‘how pathetic can I get’ ‘look at how sad your life is’ ‘your not going anywhere C’ ‘this is your story’ ‘no ones going to even remember who you were… and rightfully so’ …. that I just hate myself.

I wish a million times over that I could’ve done so many thing differently to have never ended up where I am. I think of what could’ve been had I not have done this or that. Or instead pursued this opportunity or that option when it was offered. But instead… I stayed in my confining comfort zone. And I’m left with this.

This ‘life’ that is nothing of a life at all. Its a routine that I have to complete everyday and nothing more. It’s a struggle and a burdensome weight that I carry only with the hope that my kids will maybe possibly discover something more fulfilling than I have. But then I realize I’m doing nothing to help foster any dreams they may have.

I stifle any individuality they may show by my strict rules and discipline all in an attempt to keep my routine as easy as possible for myself. I don’t allow them freedom to express or explore… ever basically. I have no extra funds to encourage trying new extra curricular activities. Instead I’ve come to the understanding just now while writing this, that my entire reasoning is counterproductive. I want the best for them but provide none of the opportunities to achieve that. I’m to exhausted by the end of my day to even play a god damn board game with them.

So I shovel them off to bed to rest myself, and then hate being alone.

You know what? I just don’t even have a decent enough train of thought to reason this one out. Facts seem pretty clear: I’m a ridiculous mom.

I say I want to be a good mom. And on the surface I invest a lot of time and energy into the things that would paint that picture. But when it comes down to it, my kids are getting a pretty shitty end of that stick.

I guess this is what I get for thinking to much in bed at night.

A shitty stick 😕

-Crosby, Stills & Nash/Teach Your Children-

This Life Is Filled With Hurt When Happiness Doesn’t Work Trust Me, And Take My Hand When The Lights Go Out, You’ll Understand

I haven’t been on top of my writing, I know. For starters, life has been intense this past while, which I’ll try to delve into in a later post. But also, I’ve been having seizures so often now that I just don’t have the energy or strength to write. I’d prefer to spend all my free time ‘recovering’. I have Grand Mal seizures in my sleep, and while they were controlled by meds for the most part of my life, these past 2-3 weeks I’ve been having 1-2 a week, which considering it had been years since they’ve effected me like this, is in and of itself stressful/annoying. They cause so much pain in general. My entire body is sore when I wake up. Last night (and most nights) I bit my tongue and lip. I threw up after I finally dragged myself outta bed and it was full of blood. This time I also scratched up my face, so that was something new. It was also something fairly embarrassing for when I had to take Little E to his hockey game and my face was full of red scratches. Then to top it all off, because apparently that’s not enough, I wet the bed. Yep I’m 30 years old and can’t control my bladder. Attractive.

So, because Little E had a hockey game early (7:30) this morning, and then a birthday party at 2, I took Z to get her nails done 💅🏼 and now because I’m literally too tired to cook, I’m sitting in a McDonald’s play-place, in an attempt to wear the kids out and hopefully have a quiet evening.

I picked up some Epson salts for a bath later and I’ve been living on Extra Strength Advil.

At this point, I’m not sure what’s going on, or what that problem is. All I know is this has been beyond draining and I wish they would stop. To have something happening to my body that is beyond my control is frustrating and annoying. It’s painful and the doctors honestly don’t seem to give a shit. They ask if I’m taking my meds, which I am. And then I’m met with blank stares. It’s like if this medicine doesn’t work, they literally have no clue where to go from there.

So anyways. That’s what’s been going on with me. My brain has decided it’s going rogue, and as a result, my body feels like death.


-Three Days Grace/Pain-

I’m Not Angry, I’m Just Saying Sometimes Goodbye Is A Second Chance

So where to begin.

I feel like ranting about every little thing in my life, which I won’t, however easy it would be.

My lawyer contacted me saying E didn’t actually sign the papers like he said he did (which I think I mentioned already). On top of that, he denied me ever telling/discussing the move with him, let alone him agreeing to it. So he had been ignoring my calls/texts/emails EVERYTHING for the last month and a half.

When I finally got a hold of him, he told me he’s been at work this whole time. Suuuure you have, it’s like he forgot I’m a payroll/HR specialist and know ALL the rules about how long he can be at camp for. Which means last rotation on his 10 days off while he was in town, he ignored all my calls and choose not to see the kids. Yes, that also means he hasn’t spoken to/seen them in close to two months now… maybe more I can’t even remember. All because he realized he got caught in his newest lie where he said he signed the papers but he didn’t, so now he’s to scared to answer the phone because he knows why I’m calling.

Fuck I can’t believe I ever married this guy.

Next, Little E’s teacher has been driving me crazy. I don’t know if she’s on some power trip or what, but in her newest move, she kept a few kids in during recess because they got ONE answer wrong on a quiz, and so she wouldn’t let them eat their morning snack while she made them clean other kids cubby’s out. I found out about it because when I asked Little E about his day, his first response was how he was SOOO hungry at lunch, which led me to ask why, etc. etc.

I can’t remember if I’ve ranted about Ms. C before, but in the incident before this (not even the first one, just previous to this, that’s how many there are in this saga), Little E came home from school and when I asked if there was anything exciting at school, he told me how his entire class had to run to the library so that a kid wouldn’t hit them. Umm, what??? Yeah, he says, then the librarian told them to run to the Gr. 6 room and wait quietly. Say WHAT!!!!!

What the hell is with all this running? And who’s hitting? And is there a note from your teacher? Nothing. I asked all the questions I could, and Little E did the best he could to explain, but since nothing had been explained to the class themselves other than RUN, he really had zero information to relay to me. So I emailed Ms. C, who didn’t even respond, but instead (since I’ve questioned her ONCE in the past, and I’m pretty sure she’s intimidated by me since I’m not a grade two-er she can boss around) she passed me off to a school counselor who replied with a half-baked email stating the privacy of our children is most important and the kids were safe at all times, and therefore nothing more would be provided to me.

Umm, no. That doesn’t answer my question. I understand if you have a special needs child who was perhaps having a seizure or something, but send an email or note home to the parents that an incident occurred that day so we aren’t wondering what happened. Especially in this day and age with all the ridiculousness that could potentially happen in schools. I just want to know, and be informed. So that I can know MY child is also safe. That way when I call Ms. C an idiot, at least I do it with all the correct backing knowledge lol. Anyways, it’s getting to the point, where I’m half considering moving Little E to a different class. Mainly because Ms. C is frustrating on so many levels and refuses to work with me. She won’t even respond to my emails, and it’s not like I’m hounding her, I’ve sent her 3 the entire year, and 2 were a back and forth conversation, the third most recent one she didn’t respond to. So most people I’ve discussed this with, think I should take it to the Principal. Thoughts?

Also, Christmas is coming up… so there’s that. My work is doing our thing this Saturday night which originally K said he would come to, but now he’s mad at me for something I legitimately don’t know what. And every time we talk since Friday when this ‘incident’ where I messed up doing I’m not sure what, because no matter how many times I ask he won’t say, he’s gotten more and more enraged. When I ask him to tell me what I did, he says I’m not an idiot I should know. He won’t just explain it to me. So, I’ve tried apologizing although I’m not sure what I’m saying sorry for and I think that makes him more mad each time I do. So then I don’t say anything and that also infuriates him, because he keeps asking if I have anything else to say, and since apologizing makes him mad, I don’t want to do that, but I honestly don’t know what he’s expecting at this point.  Unfortunately I’m not sure what to do now, and he’s at the point where he is so mad at me, that I feel a little uneasy. He’s speaking in terms that slightly scare me, so I’ve decided to take a step back. I have to protect myself and more importantly my children.

So because of that, unless there’s some sort of miracle, it looks like I’ll be going to my Christmas party solo for two years in a row… despite promises on his part denoting otherwise. I think he might honestly just be nervous to meet more people in my life and this might be his excuse. So I’ll just let him have it. Although he did come to my parents house for my birthday dinner with myself and the kids which was so nice of him. He met my parents for the first time and they loved him. He even went back the next day and lad lunch with my mom and worked on his resume alone with her… I can only imagine what they chatted about for that hour.

But anyways, I’ll probably also have to let the kids know that K won’t be coming to Christmas at my parents house on Christmas Eve because of this, which sucks because I know it’s my fault for getting their hopes up. It’s my fault for setting them up for disappointment, and I’ve learned my lesson. I just thought after a year and a half, I could trust him more.

I have only myself to blame for the feeling of hope my kids will lose. And as far as K and I go, if he wants to hold onto his anger, and won’t tell me what I did so I can at least get on the right track in rectifying it, then I just have to let him make his choice. If he chooses to stay mad, and not communicate, I will have nothing left but to choose to retreat.

Because at this point I see no other option.


-Shinedown/Second Chance-