Need Vent, Will Pay

Now, this isn't to say I am done on my sabbatical... cause I'm not, but I do need a place to vent a bit, and as I am paying way too much fucking money for my web hosting, I may as well use it. Perhaps this could be a chronical of my mental funk... and a trash dump for it.

Funk. Yep, that's about what I would call it. Not quite a depression, and not a mania either. Just this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. If it is stress, then it is massive amounts of stress, and it seems to be eating away at all the little things... gnawing at the edges.

~The Boy~
My son has had some trouble at school. Started with a "boys will be boys" incident in the classroom, involving my kid and the boy he has been in and out with since Kindergarten. Now, this kid is okay, I suppose... but him and the boy-o are either the best of friends or the worst of enemies. Having them around each other all day, everyday of school for the last 4 years has always resulted in some kind of bad ju-ju. I did mention it to that fucking whore bag principal last year, and she didn't seem to think it an issue... and despite a new principal this year, they are in the same class [i]again[/i]. In any case, my son and this boy got rowdy in the classroom- and decided to do so with pencils in their hands, which made it a BIG offense, as they were using the pencils as "weapons". They got suspended, and in big, big trouble.

The following week, I got an email from his teacher, saying he wasn't staying focused in class, was staring off or wandering around the room. SHIT!! A second call from the principal was from another kid starting a fight with my son, and kicking him and the like. My kiddo reacted by pulling the kid's hat down over his face- which wasn't so bad... But my son DID start the fight in the first place by taking stupid fucking pokemon cards to school. He knows WAY better than that- and all pokemon/yu-gi-oh cards have been ripped from his possession. My third call this week from the school was a result of him horse playing and a little girl falling down as a consequence. Because of the last few weeks, he has no leeway to fuck up and even small infractions result in a phone call from the school, and my heart sinking into my asshole in 2.5 seconds flat.

Now we have been taking drastic measures to help correct the problems here at home... this last phone call resulted in him coming home to a stripped room... no TV, Computer, Xbox.. I even tore the posters off the walls. He has a bed, clothes and books- and an extended chore list. He is on a tight leash, and can earn his things back a little at a time. I hope it works, I can't think of much else to get it into that thick child head of his that being good and doing the right things result in good results, and bad things result in bad results. We have been telling him since he was three to keep his hands to himself, but somehow it is not getting through.

~The House~

What a fucking mess. I feel like I can't catch up. I have managed to sort through all of one room. July is gonna sneak up on me in no time, and I for some reason, with four plus months to work with, feel a panic creeping in. I have read that a move is second only to the death of a loved one in stress factor.. and we ain't talking about packing up a u-haul to go across town here. This is a family of four, plus 2 cats, going 5000 miles to a place we know dick-shit about. Each and every room needs picked through with a fine toothed comb to rid us of any excess old shit that I have no interest in keeping much less taking with us. On the up side, I am starting to feel the motivation to get going on it. Maybe it was the stripping of my son's room, but other than the store room and the hauling of SO much shit to the dumpsters, it is starting to feel less daunting. The rest of this move thing... well, still feels like dog shit.

All I do know for sure is that I saw a stateside weather report the other day and burst into tears. It was -22 degrees in Fargo. MINUS FUCKING 22. Now, maybe I am crazy, but that sounds pretty god damned cold. That sounds so fucking cold that it is unbefuckinglieveable. So, anyways- crying jag on demand, just add weather. It only got worse when they switched over to the weather around home, and it was 68 and sunny. I sat for for at least an hour, sniveling like a little bitch. Maybe this will be what I look back on and call my self-pity phase, but I am not at a point where I am okay with this whole thing. I am pretty fucking far from okay, okay?

Even little things to do with this transition are bugging the piss out of me... Example... I have to go to the dentist for clearance on my health, and such. I am phobic about the dentist. Makes me want to bite the fuckers fingers off. I white knuckle the whole exam- seriously- the smell of a dental clinic brings me to the brink of gagging my guts up in the lobby. God forbid if I need any work done. They better have a tranq gun in the cabinet.

But it is the little things like that gnawing at my brain in the back ground. Getting the orders, getting put on the base housing list, and formulating a back up for living arrangements... Exams, vet certifications for the cats, immunizations, school transcripts, getting this place ready to be packed, then having it spotless to pass inspection, shipping the car, and where to...

Trying to slot some time to go home in between, as I haven't been home, (that's Vegas, btw) in six fucking years. I haven't seem my girlfriend in 6 years, my best friend is dead and have yet to visit his grave to pay my respects. Going home for at least a few days is a priority for me. Mom wants to help out with the kids, and take them for a week or two when we get there, and we have to work out a plan for that. Do we fly to Vegas and she comes to get them? Or do we fly into LAX, and have the car shipped there, so we can pick it up and drive to Phx, she comes and gets the kids- then we go to Vegas, then meet back in Phx to get the children then drive a LONG ass way to North fucking Dakota... Or fly to Tucson, rent a car spend a dyay or two- then drive to Vegas, leaving the kids behind, and later put them on a non-stop flight, gate to gate with the airline's children's flying program thingy? FUCKIN A!!

Yes, yes... it will inevitably all fall into place and work itself out... but I am a grown up now, and I don;t want to get there with the mess and disorganization we came to Germany with. Granted we had all of 4 days from orders being cut until we got on the plane, and that made things a BIG mess... I really don't want to fuck this up, and NEED to make the moving part as easy as possible, so I can handle the inevitable emotional fallout out when it happens. Both mine and the family's. Not only am I scared about the move itself, and where we are going- but I am scared that the move itself will not go well, and make it harder.

So yeah... That's why I haven't been prolific in my writing. When you have thousands of things going on in your head, it is not so easy to pick one or two and write about it. Like trying to pick a single voice out of a crowded room. Being bi-polar makes things just a little more difficult.

So back to your regularly scheduled Freud-free sabbatical... maybe.