Monday Frustrations (Always?)

So apparently even though I’m following the chore chart I’m still not doing any cleaning.


My morning started with listening to my father ranting VERY LOUDLY downstairs to my mother about this along with my poor parenting skills. Apparently I also do nothing about Little Bear’s behavior.


He’s only been grounded from EVERYTHING for the last two weeks and got grounded for another day for his mouthy attitude yesterday so I have no idea what he wants from me. The State and mental health hospital do NOT want me to lay a hand on this child so my father’s advice of “beat his ass” is really not helpful. At all.

Now bear in mind this is one of those conversations that’s not for me to butt into but meant for me to hear. If I had stepped in, I would have told “I’m not talking to you” and things would have exploded from there. This is what baiting is and what manipulation is because now I have to sit here and figure out what the hell he wants.

The best part of it all was hearing him say I haven’t changed at all since moving here.


And people wonder why I’m so fucking angry all the time. Two weeks ago he was telling me that they aren’t trying to control me, that it’s all in my head, and it’s because of my illness. But then fucking shit like this happens.

I go down stairs to feed the boys breakfast and there he is up my ass about Little Bear’s behavior. It seems that last night he had gotten up while I was sleeping and snuck out two sodas from the pantry. Twice.

So my questions are:

  1. Why didn’t you wake me up to handle it?
  2. Why did you let him just fucking do it if you knew about it?
  3. Now that it’s been done, what the fuck do you expect me to do because he doesn’t care because as far as he’s concerned he’s already gotten away with it?
    1. We are dealing with the logic of mental illness here so consequences mean very little, especially with this child, unless they happen immediately.
    2. And I’m really tired of being treated like I don’t fucking care just because I don’t handle it the same way you did “back in the day” – believe me I reached a point where I stopped caring about the punishment.
    3. Yes, I can ground him longer – to make you happy – but we can see how well that shit is working.


And it brings me to another point that’s been rubbing me the wrong way. Many of you know that I write about characters with mental illness and brain disorders. Swearing is a fact of life for many of us. Not all, but many of us. Particularly the angriest of us. I see it in our blogs. I see it in the hospitals. In the clinics. I see it in myself. In my family. It’s normal to me. But I post my work up on Scribophile and suddenly people cry foul. So I start making a point to state that my work centers around mental illness and still people are crying foul about the language being used. Some are even saying it’s too harsh, not understanding the diagnosis – like not knowing what it means to be PTSD with aggressive presentation when I stated it in the About section for the piece. So there are two frustrations here for me.


One is the blatant censorship going on. I could see it if every character in the piece is swearing to tell me it’s too much. But I never do that. It’s always the angry, bitter, aggressive, vulgar, snarky character that swears. And only that character. Because that’s how my life is. It’s what I know. And it’s natural to me. Having more than one character like that in a story would be overwhelming and ugly for me – even if it is my life. So I stick to one. And it bothers me that so many people tell me not to do it. Not to use these words. Not to use so many. “It would have more power.” Or whatever. I’m not using them for power. I’m not using them for shock value. I use them where I use them because it feels natural to me and it feels right. Both Rhae and Clarissa are the angry voices in me – and maybe I shouldn’t have done that because it attaches my ego to the work – but I shouldn’t have to feel silenced by doing what is right and by being true to representing what mental illness really is. I’m not writing about PTSD through research. I’m writing it from personal experience under the guise of the fantasy genre.


The other frustration is seeing how little people understand mental illness. I used the phrase “lost his shit” and one critique told me to use “went crazy” instead. The two phrases mean two completely different things. I can understand not using profanity in the narrative and reserving it for dialogue only, unless using first person POV. I get it because it’s characterization. But people “lose their shit” all the time without ever going crazy. I’m crazy. I have the diagnoses to prove it. And I still lose my shit from time to time. Losing your shit is a loss of self control to an extreme degree. It has nothing to do with craziness. And once again because of the fantasy genre some of them misunderstood the diagnosis, but that part was okay with me. The piece that they were reading was The Demons That Bind Us and since it was the beginning of the series, it was completely fine to ask those types of questions. Good actually.


On the upside, I did get some good advice on how to polish the piece so hopefully before long I’ll be posting a better version of it on The Chaos Pen.

And a musical number for the current mood I’m in. Random bit of trivia: I’ve discovered that for some reason dubstep alleviates my particular brand of tinnitus. I don’t even need to have it set very loud. Interesting.

8 thoughts on “Monday Frustrations (Always?)

  1. Ugh — the family situation sounds beyond trying. I can certainly understand why you’re frustrated.

    As for your writing — that would royally chap my nerves as well. People curse. I lose my shit regularly, and though I could also be classified as crazy due to my mental health diagnoses, I agree that going crazy is not the same as losing one’s shit. Plus, I am regularly blown away at reactions to WORDS. As you said, you’re conveying anger, frustration, and aggression. Certain words are simply a necessary part of proper characterization.

    I didn’t say much that’s helpful; just know that you are heard and your annoyance is perfectly valid.

    • Thank you! It’s good to feel heard and understood. I could never understand why it’s offensive to say “loose my shit” but not “go crazy” – because I am well aware there are people out there that find the word crazy offensive. I don’t and will use that word on my blog just as easily (about myself) as I will any profanity. I’m just mindful not to call anyone else crazy because it’s never my place to say. I’m not in a position to diagnose anyone. It’s the same with lunatic and maniac.

      The funniest thing is, I use less swearing in my prose than I do on my blog. At least I think I do? What would these people do if they ever came over here and read any of my posts? @_@ But I’ll be damned if I start censoring myself now. Fuck that noise.

  2. I got nothing for you on the family front. You are dealing with what I dealt with growing up (and you probably did to). It’s passive aggressive and it’s unacceptable. But making it stop? I wouldn’t even know where to start.

    The writing? I cuss like a sailor. It’s an expression of my anger. The angrier I am, the more F bombs I’m likely to drop. And when you are angry on top of an exhaustion of mental illness it just flows from my mouth as if it’s the most normal thing ever. And, it is normal. Especially for the mentally ill.

    • That’s exactly what I’m saying here! I decided a long time ago that I was done with people trying to filter my words. My parents still try to do this. “Watch your mouth.” and “Be more ladylike.” Bah. Fuck that. And then there are the people that try to silence you completely when you speak your truth and tell your story. When you tell them the shit you’ve been through. And yea, this has been my life. All my life. I knew this was how it was going to be when I moved back in. I moved in with eyes wide open. That’s why I knew what was going on this morning. It’s why I didn’t go down stairs and get involved. I held my cards and waited for later.

      See the thing was, Little Bear went to bed with an empty can of soda on his desk in my room. There was a partial soda in my little fridge. He admitted to sneaking ONE soda in the middle of the night. Then he said the second time he went down stairs he brought his soda with him when he went to the bathroom…. okay first off that’s just gross. Secondly all cans were accounted for. My problem is my parents refused to even listen to him and just jumped all over his shit this morning and demanded that I punish him their way.

      I didn’t. I waited for it to matter to Little Bear. Lunch time came and he wanted a soda. That’s when I told him no because he snuck a soda last night. NOW THE PUNISHMENT MATTERED TO HIM. If I had done it their way, he wouldn’t have cared. When lunch was over and he left the kitchen, I explained the soda can evidence to my parents. I don’t know if it sank in but my point was they need to take the time to fucking listen. Maybe someday it will sink it, but I doubt it. I just know that playing diplomat like this all the time gets exhausting.

    • Thank you. I know when talking about my life there is something therapeutic about swearing. I find it hard to believe that when writing dialogue for a character that feels similar to me or similar to someone I know that is prone to swearing and is dealing with something that feels similar in my life wouldn’t swear in the story. And the closer that similarity is, the more stubborn I become about that.

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