As I have said previously, I love my little gym. I feel that my downfall of three years (the gym was closed due to COVID) was due to me not seeing my little family at the gym and talking a lot of shit.
The first time I was contemplating going to the gym while my daughter was in Taekwondo, a nice man named “Bear” told me to come in and look around. That was when I knew that it would be my home. Everyone is so nice and we’re just a small family. I really missed my people so, about 3 weeks ago, we started Taekwondo back at that community center and I saw most of my people. Some have relocated. But I am happy to be among my people. I am the only woman in there when I go and I get a log of encouragement when I work out.
Meeting a LICSW
I have seen this guy many times. I think he is familiar with the instructor. I’ve never really even had a conversation with him but I know him, you know? So he started the conversation by asking me about my daughter and how long she had been in the class. I told him about 7 years. When my mom was in the hospital, we didn’t come for about a year. She is now 16 and has a green belt.
I pointed out that it was great because she continuously proves me wrong as she has autism and a moderate intellectual disability, yet I can’t get though the first form. My baby is a determined individual, and I am so proud of her. That’s not really what this post is about but just bear with me.
He asked me about how long she had been in the class because he wants to put his daughter in the class and wanted to know what my daughter had learned. I told him about the discipline that she has now and the fact that I know from experience that she can protect herself because I have had to fight her a number of times (see Another Altercation with My Daughter). I have had to restrain her from a very young age, but she is about to turn 17 and I continue to work out to keep up with her. My job is to keep her safe. When being attacked, you have to do your best not to let the old you come out but I digress.
The therapist and I started talking about my mental disorder and how I have suicidal ideation. We talked about how it would impact my daughter and I told him that I really didn’t think it would. Later on, however, I contradicted myself in stating that my daughter notices everything. She doesn’t really understand the concept of death, but she knows if the rug is crooked. He pointed that fact out to me. He said, “So she might not notice it as quickly as others, but she will notice it and she will grieve in a different way.” My reason for living WAS my daughter but the way she has treated me makes me feel as though she doesn’t need me anymore. People say it’s selfish of me to be suicidal when you have kids but, to people with a messed up brain like mine, it makes sense. My child gets to live with someone and live off my three insurance policies.
Lessons Learned
I am still not really over the incident 13 years ago which sent me to the psych ward the first time. I’m not sure that I have written about that incident. I’m not over it because I was telling the therapist what happened and he said that my eye was squinting. I was talking to my sister today about it and she said she could hear the rage in my voice. I am still NOT over it but I don’t fault him for it. Dude was drunk and my mom didn’t help the situation. When I came in the house after being gone for 5 days, he welcomed me and gave me a hug. However, my mother made it known that my daughter didn’t even miss me.
Thankfully, my second trip to the psych ward was different in that everyone was involved. They told me that my daughter was looking for me which made me feel good; like she cared. I wasn’t told that by my mother the first time. I still harbor resentment to my mother for a lot of things, but she is still my mother. She has done so much dirt to me to the point that people were TELLING her she was wrong, and she just kept doing it anyway. That’s why I had to leave for my own sanity.
Mourning the Living
I talked about how I have a concern about my daughter because she can’t do and won’t be able to do the things that many kids her age can do. I talked about this previously here. Graduations, seeing kids younger than her drive, read, go to college are things my daughter might get to do. My daughter has to stay in school until 21 and they are basically teaching them life skills. It makes me sad and I wonder if she will find love. My daughter is a happy individual because she is oblivious to how crappy this world is while I’m over here stressing about everything.
The therapist told me straight up, “You can’t mourn the living. Your daughter is happy. Everyone loves her and she will be fine.” This is true. I have to learn to put my feelings and knowledge aside and let her life her life. She is in a program through the ARC called Ready@21 and they are training them on how to interview. In addition to this, her school is teaching them life skills as well. The teachers are great and actually care as well. They will also help her get a summer job so she can help me with money because I am drowning because I’m constantly buying her juice and the $51.46 we get per month from the deadbeat is nice but ….. nah.
Allowing Others to Help
I had to ask my sister for rent money this month because I literally didn’t have it. I have since moved my bills to the middle of the month, got rid of some things, and am just trying to make it. I have job prospects coming up as well. I am also trying to reteach myself some things.
An old boss of mine said she was working hard and asked me for my Venmo. I don’t have Venmo and I told her that. I told her I had CashApp. She was so determined to help me, she downloaded it and sent me some money to help even though I told her not to send me money. When I told the therapist this, he said “Some people want to bless others and, if you don’t let them, you are blocking their blessings. You need to accept the things that people offer you.” I know that I can do this because no one in my village holds things over my head as I wouldn’t do that to them when I am doing well. If I get a piece of cash extra, I will send them sweet things just to make their day. My sister told me that we don’t have to give money to people to make an impact.
The therapist also pointed this out. He said that I might not have money, but I give people something else that makes them feel good and want to let you know how much they love you. I have to learn to accept that fact. I do things for people to make them feel happy because we’re all going through it. I genuinely love to see people happy. I like to see them smile when they get random flowers or something simple that they mentioned. My ex-fiancé was like this, very observant. My love language is acts of service.
I will say that I have learned more humility than a little bit during these hardships. All I need is my overtime back. Until I can get that, I’m no good.
In the End …
I learned a lot about my worth in about 20-30 minutes of talking to this therapist that works with children with special needs. It changed my outlook on my suicidal ideation. It showed me to accept the love and respect people for me. It taught me that I mean more to people than I thought even if I don’t mean much to myself. People are coming forward and telling me these things and, instead of downplaying anything I do to make them feel this way, I accept it and take it in.
I will do my best to get better with the help of my village, my therapists, and family. I am trying but it is a daily struggle especially when money is needed to survive. My employer hears us though, I will give them that much. They listen but I’m just frustrated with myself because I am a fast learner so it’s a pain when I have to keep having meetings about trying to improve even though my supervisor is very nice and encouraging. I have to stop being so hard on myself.
This was a boring blog, you can skip it. I won’t be mad. Read some of my more entertaining blogs. Here are some: YouTubers and Their Lifesaving Channels (Part One), YouTubers and Their Lifesaving Channels (Part 2), Tales from the Psych Ward (Part One), Tales from the Psych Ward (Part 2): Getting to Know Other Patients, Tales from the Psych Ward (Part 3): “Therapy”, Tales from the Psych Ward (Part 4): The Final Countdown.
I have to do some revamping to this page. I have had it for 9 years now and I talk about everything. I even did a play by play of the Johnny Depp trial which was hilarious because I was actually mad. I summed up my rage here Trying to Figure Out My Rage Regarding this Trial.
As always, thank you for taking the time to read my blog. If you would like to donate to my fun for obtaining my Master’s degree before I get on a pole, you can send money to my CashApp at $kenkie21.
Rantings of a Mad Woman 
I am glad the therapy session was productive. I don’t know what it is like to be in your shoes but I do know what it is like to be suicidal and have people who are supposed to protect you make it worse.
This was not a boring blog. It’s good to read about your progress.
Thank you for saying that.