Trying to raise my kids the best I can

Monday, January 09, 2006

Analyzing me

My coworker pointed out that I have a morbid sense of humor. I think he's right. I take a little too much pleasure in other's people pain. I think this is an after-affect of the four years that were really hard on me. I mean, for four years I think there was a black cloud over me. It was like God put me through a period of testing like Job. I used to be really bitter about it. Now I just realize that everyone's got their cross to bear and I remind myself that I could have had it worse - like that 90-something year old woman who was the only survivor in the huge earthquake in Bam, Iran. That had to suck. You spend your whole life raising up the next generations. And then poof they're gone.

What sorts of things happened? Well, it was big things and little things. It was everything. Things like...

The day my husband was first arraigned. Bail was set unattainably high. My 1 year old became very sick. I only had four dollars in change for the copay which wasn't enough. The secretary begrudgingly let me see the doctor anyway. Later that day I got rear ended.

My sister in law who was nothing but mean to me while my husband was in jail. She picked fights with me, ignored me when were in the same room including speaking to me through my children, bought Christmas presents for everyone except my kids, did not acknowledge the birthday present I bought her in an attempt to make peace, eventually kicked me out of (her mothers) house.

The birth of my son which was traumatic and painful and lonely and horrible.

Two weeks after that birth my two year old son fell down the stairs and broke his leg. The nurse didn't see it, so for three days I had to lug both a newborn and a non-abulatory child around to doctors offices and hospitals to get him into a cast.

My mother who also didn't get along with me when I lived with her. I swear I'm not a difficult person to live with. She also eventually drove me out of the house. I ended up ping-ponging back and forth between my parent's house and my in-laws house.

At my in-laws house I lived in the unheated, bone chilly, attic. It had cockroaches, dead mice, and at one point a dog locked in the bathroom next to me that left feces everywhere. Oh, and lead paint (which DID lead to elevated levels of lead in my son). It was a dangerous place for children to be living. At one point I drove to two different shelters and they both turned me away because they were full.

That day I became deathly ill and called 911 for medical assistance and instead the police came and took my kids from me without just cause.

And just stupid, continuous little things like unreliable cars that would break down, mean Correctional Officers, unreliable babysitting that would leave me stuck between losing my job or leaving my young children unsupervised, my baby who was developing signs of autism (thankfully never came about), my doctor found a lump in my breast which had to be biopsied (thankfully, not cancer). And so forth.

So that's my sob story. I'm totally over it now. I don't even think about it anymore. I'm even friends with the witch sister in law. So, it was just interesting to realize I'm still affected by the whole thing in my new-found morbid sense of humor. I wonder if it will ever go away.


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