The Story Begins

I started my first day on Thrive today. I am not sure what I think about it yet. The caffeine pills that you start with seem to be a little too strong for me. I have managed to wean myself off caffeine due to gall bladder issues that are caused by PCOS, so I am really unsure about taking them. I got the jitters a lot. I couldn’t make it more than three hours after breakfast this morning before needing to eat lunch and about five hours after that I had to eat dinner, so it’s going to be a challenge with the schedule I keep three days a week for work.

The upside to it though is that I got what could be one chapter written for my story. But, now my brain is running wild. My struggle with depression sort of starts back when I was 13 and struggled with self harming, but I wasn’t really depressed back then. I was just overwhelmed with feeling so much and feeling like I had no control over my life. So much happened so quickly I didn’t even have time to process and we didn’t talk about much growing up. So, now I don’t know if I should write my book in parts–self-harming, what I’ve learned about PCOS (depression, anxiety, gall bladder/grease issues, etc.), depression while pregnant and PPD. There’s so much I want to share and I feel like it would be easier to get it out there if it was in a book that people could recommend or actually put in someone’s hand rather than a blog. But, I am unsure, as usual.

I joined a few groups on how to write a book and I am hoping that over the next few weeks I can get a clear picture of what I want and how to tell my story because I really want to. I have so much in my heart and head that I just want out there. Things I want to say and share–healing that I know needs to happen. Writing it all out has been therapeutic. I helped me so much to know that I wasn’t alone when I was going through my struggles–I just want to do the same for others.

I was talking to a friend today and realized that part of me still wants to write a sort of f*ck you book about things you don’t say or do to people who are grieving. When I lost my sister I heard things and had things done that I don’t think I have actually forgive. I am not sure that it needs to be a book, but I am definitely thinking that a post is in order.

If I didn’t have to get up for the day job tomorrow, I could sit in this silence and try to let it all flow out of my mind and onto this screen. But, alas I must adult. Bills to pay and children to raise. 

Until tomorrow when I bear my soul again…

Hello Child!

So–I will admit, I almost didn’t put this on here since I know certain people read it but, this is my blog, my place to feel free to say whatever, and I am doing to get used to using as such sometime…

Today it has been a no shiz child! day. Meaning, I have had some remarks for children and I can’t say them because they wouldn’t understand.

First–you can’t expect me to not let my child hit you and you get to hit my kids. Another note on hitting, if you run over (boys will be boys) and begin a game of tap each other (not full on hitting) and you both laugh, when my child returns the tap, you can’t expect me to feel horrible when he taps you softer than you tapped him and you play all dramatic and throw yourself to the floor crying. I will make sure you didn’t hit your head on the end table of the window next to you but, just like I do my child, I will let you know not to do that again. If you can’t handle it, don’t dish it out. They didn’t hit before you (2 year old did but, he’s gonna loss the habit) and they will NOT hit with you.

Secondly, if you don’t like to share, don’t expect me to keep your special toys away from my kiddos when you drop them because you want to play with their special toys. If you don’t want to share, don’t bring it to my kiddos–they share everything with you. I can put it up when you get here, you can leave it in the car but, don’t expect them to not enjoy new toys they don’t have–just like you do with their toys.

You’re an awesome kid when you want to be–just like ours but, some times… My goodness. Just like ours!