The Trampoline Situation

So, my son has Aspergers which, for those of you who don’t know, is marked by (among other things) a lack of social skills. We’re at this trampoline place (we’ve been here a couple times. It’s pretty awesome) and there are WAAAAAAAY more people here than normal. After 15 minutes of bouncing, he comes and says he’s tired, has a knot in his stomach and wants to go home. As much as it hurt me to tell him this, I told him no. I made him wait a few minutes and go back in. I know he doesn’t want to but sometimes we all have to do things we don’t want to do. He’s not having a meltdown or an anxiety attack, so I think I made the right call. It just sucks because I know how awkward new social situations can be and I hate them myself, but part of being a parent is trying to make your kid a better person than you are.

After-note: he just can back from bouncing to get a drink of water, catch his breath and to tell me he was going back in. (Good call, me. Good call)


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I’m so fucking aggravated

I am aggravated. I’m aggravated that my car is still fucking broken from a plow guy, I’m aggravated that my fiance thinks its okay to be passed out drunk at noon on a Tuesday. I’m aggravated that I can’t talk to my fiance about how aggravated I am because he’s passed out drunk at noon on a Tuesday. I’m aggravated that he thinks it’s okay to walk to the store in the snow to buy a 30 pack of beer, but that he’s too tired to come pick up our car at the mechanic and go pick up his prescriptions. I’m done with cars, plow guys and people in general. You know what I’m not done with? Coffee. Since I was 12, coffee has never let me down. It’s always been there; warm, comforting and will always listen to my insane rants. I’m tired of hearing “I’m sorry”. “Oh, I’m sorry i totaled your favorite car and almost killed your fiance” “oh, I’m sorry, but we wont be paying on this claim” “oh, I’m sorry that i hit your car with my plow truck and popped the bumper off and took the marker light with it” “oh, I’m sorry that when we fixed your car, we didn’t actually fix it and the marker light comes flying off as you’re driving over a bridge to go get your fiances anti depressant”. I’m sick of it, sick of all of it. I’m moving into a cave and not telling anyone where I am.

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Honey, I’m home!

It’s been a while, has it not?
I have, admittedly, been in a slump these past few decades, and I have done nothing to try and un-slump. In the immortal words of Dr. Seuss “unslumping yourself is not easily done”.
Back to basics, I say. In the last semester that schools been out I have gotten insanely lazy. I lay about after work watching crappy TV. NO MORE I SAY!! (well, at least significantly less) I was just informed that I am an honors student (woot!) and I need to keep my GPA hovering about where it is now, which is a modest 3.86. In order to do this, I am going to actually make this blog what I intended it to be. That is, mostly science related. My major is in Psychology, as that is where my primary interest lie, but my boyfriend is a naturalist and an etymologist, so some of those posts might sneak their way on here. I can’t promise regular updates, but by the first week in September, I will try and post regularly. If for no other reason than it’s good repetition; And that, as we all know, aids with recall. With only two and a half years left (I’m going part time, only 2 classes a semester) I need to remember all I can.

So stay tuned, or tune in, or don’t do either. I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for me.

This next semester will be History of America through 1877 and Computers and Sociology\Behavioral Science. (both classes are going to count towards my honors credits because apparently now I need to take honors classes. The good people at my school are going to make these two core requirements honors classes for me……and pretty much anyone else who asks…..I just wanted to feel special for a second)

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I quit drinking. For two weeks. 14 whole days. (You can read about it in previous posts) I lasted 2weeks.

I don’t know what to do about my boyfriend, my ex or my son. I feel so lost. Writing helps. I remember when my boyfriend and I were happy. Maybe we still can be, I don’t know.


I’m drinking now, but I’m still in school and looking to relocate to the city. Big life changes seem to work better for me than gradual ones. I dunno.


ramble ramble ramble

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A Long Way Down

I fell off the wagon. Hard. I don’t know how to get back up. I also found out my boyfriend, who has continued to be very supportive, also started drinking again. He was sober about 4 days. He did, however., go from 2 gallons of wine, an 18 pack and half a bottle of whiskey in two weeks to a 6 pack and a gallon of wine. So it’s progress. I made it 14 days. Two weeks. A fortnight. Then, we went to the city for christmas to see his parents. We went out to dinner, for sushi. (I LOVE sushi) and I had a bottle of sake. Then another. Then I stopped at the liquor store and in two days finished a bottle of Jim Beam. Then I bought two more smaller ones over the next two days. Three days after that, I bought a bottle of no-name–rot-gut whiskey. This has, so far, lasted me three days.


I need to stop this before I kill myself with it.

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Day whatever

I think this is day 5….or 4. Something like that. While I stopped getting carsick when I drive, I still wake up with an upset stomach. I have also been able to stop counting the minutes at night. The first two nights, it went from “one day at a time” to “one hour at a time” to, literally “one minute at a time”. I can count days now, which I guess is a good sign. I’m just really, really tired all the time. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. And sleep isn’t coming all the easily to me, so it’s a catch 22. However, when I am awake, I can actually enjoy things like spending time with my son.


Tomorrow will be the first time I’ll see my boyfriend since we quite drinking, and I’m a bit nervous, I must admit. For the 5 or so years we’ve known each other, we’ve never not drank. One of us was always a little buzzed. Not only that, we’re gonna be at his apartment, which is where we did most of our drinking to begin with. Let’s see how this goes.


I also have to say again, I am stupidly proud of myself that I stopped counting the minutes I had not drank.


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The Day After

Okay, so my first 52 hours sober have been awful. I can’t really speak to my mental state, since all I’ve been is exhausted. My body is rebelling against what I’m intentionally not doing to it, and it sucks. I ache all over, my stomach feels like I got hit with a bowling ball and I don’t want to mention the fight my organs are putting up getting used to solids in my body. (good job guys, keep fighting the good fight)  Driving makes me car sick. I live on a very windy, turney, hilly road on top of a frikin mountain. It used to be that every day when I woke up if I wasn’t vomiting, I was dry heaving. That, unfortunately, has yet to change.  Tomorrow maybe? All I could stomach was ginger ale (begrudgingly) and saltines…and water. An ass-ton of water. I do not have happy insides right now. On the plus side,  I haven’t had to take any ibuprofen or naproxen sodium at all today.  (I used to take upwards of 5, 250mg ibuprofen and another 4 200mg naproxen sodium pills a day)


Sleep last night was….interesting. I’ve heard of hallucinations while detoxing, but the dreams I had woke me up they were so gddamm real. At one point in the dream, there was a dog licking my hand, and I was surprised when I woke up and my hand was dry.


My boyfriend has been so supportive and is doing markedly better with this than I am. We’re both pretty depressed people for the most part, but he seems to have taken to this like a heroin addict to methodone. I am really lucky to have someone like him to support me in the ways he does. Everyone has been really supportive and I really am a very lucky girl.


On the plus side of all these crappy side effects, it has made me see one thing, I will never have another drink. I cannot stand putting my body trough this rigamarole ever again. I hate that it took a huge wake up call and my body trying to kill me from the inside out to realize that, but I’ve never been one to half-ass anything. Apparently this is no different.


On a side note, this blog will, eventually, be about psychology and science, but right now I need to get myself better. Also, no one reads this, so there’s no one to complain. wadoo.

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