My Two Year Old Is Driving Me Further Insane

My two year old is probably like most two year olds, but I am not like most fathers and it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to tolerate her. The screaming causes me to scream. The mimicry causes me to smile, but get aggravated when she repeats it over and over again which leads to more screaming.

The thing that gets me fired up the most is when she openly defies her mother or me. That gets her a whipping and/or time out. Sometimes I send her to bed over it. I cannot tolerate it. It makes my blood boil. I hate to be disrespected and that is what she is doing. I have tried explaining it to her, but even though she seems to get it she does exactly what she just got in trouble for ten seconds later.

I know she is testing her boundaries, but she reached the end of them a long time ago. She does not respect us and she does not fear us (which is good), but I need something to change and quick because my hair is falling out AND turning grey and I am having to double up on my Klonopin (at the suggestion of my doctor).

My therapist thinks I need a break and I have taken them and they help, but it is back to the same when I return. I can’t take a permanent break as I can’t stand being away from her for more than a night or three (six has been the max and it sucked). So I miss her, but I want to get away from her. I love her, but I hate what she is doing. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Help me, please.

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The Introduction Of The New Me

Over the last seven years my life has changed dramatically. I got married to the love of my life and life itself seemed wonderful. We had a blissful honeymoon and I thought that was how the entirety of my life would go (I believe she did as well). We were both disappointed.

My mental illnesses got worse and worse. I became more and more susceptible to the stress around me. Jobs started lasting less and less time (I had never lasted long at a job because I got bored or my anger got the best of me, or I had the rare anxiety attack and I never went back because I was embarrassed). I spent quite a bit of time in and out of the hospital because of the anxiety attacks that were coming on weekly or sometimes even more frequently than that.

I lost my last job because I had too much time away due to the inability to handle stress and determined that school was my best bet. I would change majors from Culinary Arts to something less stressful. Instead, while living with my in-laws I had my breakdown.

Over the next two months I degraded so fast that neither my wife nor I knew what was going on. She became cold and I became distant. Everyone was out to get me and I could not leave my desk chair other than to go outside to the comfort of my secluded balcony to smoke. It was obvious that I needed help so, with my wife’s help, I got it.

To make a long story short as I have gone over most of this before, I eventually found the psychiatrist I am with now. I eventually found the right mix of medications and I eventually started to feel normal.

I wanted out of the house. I want out of my desk chair. I started to do more around the house. I started spending time with my daughter. I started being a somewhat normal human being.

Last week I decided that it was time for me to go back to work. Due to child support from my first marriage, I need to make a certain amount just to bring in what I am bringing in now with my disability and the jobs that disability will find for you are a joke.

So I am job hunting. I haven’t worked since 2007. I am a published writer so I use that as my work experience for the last several years, but a lot of employers don’t look kindly on that. I will find a job. I will contribute to my household. I will be a active member of society. I will introduce the world to the new me.

Stressing Over A Two Year Old

A two year old was made to induce stress in any living human being that cares for it on a regular or even a semi-regular basis. They refuse to listen, do the exact opposite of what you tell them to do, repeat what you don’t want them to repeat and more.

I know I am not alone in saying that I get so stressed out that I have to walk away from the situation at times. At least I can walk away at times, for a single parent with little to no support life with a toddler must be something like what a believing person would imagine as hell without the fire and brimstone – okay maybe a little fire, but that is a different story.

I also know that I am not alone in my inability to handle the little stresses and anxieties of life let alone the big ones. I, like quite a bit of the world, have a severe anxiety disorder. Yes mine is a very severe case, but I am medicated enough to make it a normal case and I still can’t handle not finding my shoes in the morning after the, you guessed it, two year old moved them “somewhere”. I certainly can’t handle the screaming, spitting, hitting and licking that my two year old exhibits on an hourly basis, not with all the Klonopin in the world.

She is always right, kind of like her mother, and she thinks she should always get exactly what she wants, kind of like her mother. She can’t understand consequences yet and wouldn’t care if she could.

She wakes up too early, naps too rarely and goes to sleep only if she is drugged. I haven’t slept more than six hours a night in over two years and I really wish that was different.

At the store she is a terror and that is being nice. She refuses to sit in the cart, runs off when she is on the ground, hides, refuses to hold anyone’s hand and screams at the top of her lungs for no reason other than to piss me off. She does a lot of things just to piss me off. My wife takes a laid back approach, but I refuse to let her walk all over me like she does my wife. She gets what she wants, when she wants it and still throws fits.

Spanking doesn’t work. Time out doesn’t work. Taking away TV or toys doesn’t work. If we put her to bed early she just screams and throws everything in her room if she can’t open the door.

She is a redhead and I know that comes with a certain temperament, but dear deity I won’t have any hair in a couple more months due to stress.

Routinely I have to walk away. I used to smoke, but my wife whined until I quit. Now I scream, a lot. I can’t write much because with the level of stress I cannot collect enough thoughts to get something legible down.

Today we went to Chuck-E-Cheese. For those of you that don’t know what that is, image eighty games for kids and tunnels for them to crawl through aided by singing and dancing characters and pizza, cake and ice cream. Hell for parents.

I spent most of the time running after my daughter trying to catch her. I lost her, literally lost her, four times in four hours. I cried three times and my wife sat there and complained. I wanted to die. My stress levels were so high I started to pass out … while driving. My wife doesn’t understand. Now she wants me to have my right to have a license go back under review. If I lose my license I am screwed and she doesn’t understand how screwed we will be. I can drive wonderfully as long as I am not overly stressed or under medicated or over medicated.

Stress sucks, but it is built in to having a toddler. I am getting better, but I doubt I will ever be perfect.

Did I mention I want another one?

Hard At Work

I started working on my almost fictional memoir/biography quite some time ago. It has gone through many titles and I recently gave it a new one: Ramblings of an Uncut Mind. I chose it because my poetry collection is titled Poetic Visions of an Uncut Mind and when doing nonfiction (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) I am trying for stability that way if the book gets picked up then perhaps they will pick up the collection for republication. I have big hopes and dreams, but if you can’t dream big then why hope to dream at all?

I say the piece is “almost fictional” because I am not sure what is real and what is not. What is fact to me, may be a lie to someone else. My therapist told me I should leave it alone (trying to figure out what is real or imagined) and just live my life, but that is hard when you are a writer, especially if you are writing a memoir. So I have taken what I think I know and written it down and if something contradicts that in my mind then I write that as well, explaining that I have two or more memories of the same event or time period.

So most of my time has been spent working on that. The rest is spent writing poetry, cleaning the apartment, trying to buy a house, taking care of my daughter and finding time to show my wife some love. As I write this I have to say I feel sorry for her because as much of a bitch that she can be, she still has to deal with a (medicated)schizophrenic, former drug addict, smoker, pathological liar who happens to be an aspiring author. That is not to say that I don’t feel that she still treats me unfair at times, it is just to say that she has it just as rough, if not more, as I do dealing with her unmedicated ass who is sick constantly and whines when she is not bitching, screaming, or not listening to a word I say, not to mention never taking my feelings, thoughts, or sicknesses in mind.

So if you are wondering why I haven’t been posting so much, now you know.

A quick update:

  • The 2 year old is sleeping through the night in her own bed, but never past 6:30 am.
  • The wife is looking for a better job that won’t treat her like a door mat.
  • We have found a house, pending inspection (Monday), that we should be in by mid-August.
  • I think my best friend is trying to get in my wife’s pants as his wife’s pants are currently in the possession of another of our friends (complicated). I may write about this when I have time.
  • My medication is working splendidly. Anxiety is at a 25% level and paranoia is at a 35% level, but the hallucinations are at a 5% level and the emotional response is up 300%. Moods are stable for the most part and I am seeing signs of real happiness.

Would love to hear from any of you readers that would like to say something.

Not In A Good Place

Since medications were stolen, I am not only going through withdraw, but having major anxiety attacks. I am not sleeping and I can’t shake the feeling of large bugs crawling under my skin, just pushing and pushing their way out. My moods are all over the place and the paranoia is so bad that I am barricading the doors and widows and refusing to leave the house. I even tore the house apart today looking for audio or visual devices (I found none).

I didn’t react this bad when I came off of heroin 10 years ago. Suicide is not an option, well its an option just not a valid one – I wish it was at times.

My wife and I are also not seeing eye to eye. She can’t handle my issues right now and I don’t know what to do.

I need help and my psych and therapist just aren’t doing the job. My dog is helping, but only a bit. I did think about throwing her out the widow when she went and did her business on the floor but I stormed off, yelled, put a hole in the wall and cleaned it up.

Then I patched the hole. Then the guy I may or may not have killed came to talk to me about God.

Anger is not my forte. I don’t know what to do with it, how to handle it, or how to vent it so I don’t hurt anyone.

Do I need to check myself in?

Do I need that much help or will it go away in time?

My Home Was Broken Into

I don’t feel like getting into it right now, but I went out to walk the dog, forgot to lock the door and the house was somewhat ransacked. The only things that were missing were my medications. They knew what they wanted and where to get it.

I am paranoid by nature and I am even more so now. I think it was the maintenance man working with someone in the building to watch until I left and then strike. I also think it was more than one because they had to get the drugs and then pretend to ransack the house.

I want to barricade the doors. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to sleep.

Tell me a happy story to get my mind off of this crap.

Family Camping Trip Failure Leads To Mommy Blacking Out

My two year old daughter’s first camping trip started after her soccer practice on Friday evening. The tent was up before full dark and we were in decent spirits … until she realized she was going to have to sleep in tent. Not in her bed. On her own air mattress. Not in mommy and daddy’s bed. Without her music. Not in the climate controlled luxury of a home.

She finally passed out around midnight on my wife’s arm as we flitted in and out of sleep. She was being pinned in place and I was fighting to not fall off the mattress. I should have gone to my daughter’s mattress, but I refuse to sleep with an animal in my bed and the dog was occupying my daughter mattress.

We tried to recover in the morning, but as the cloud of condensation poured out of my mouth I realized that I packed nothing for weather below 65 and sunny. A morning trip to Walmart for clothes and McDonalds for a quick breakfast as it was nearing 8:30 am after the leaving the store and would be too late to get breakfast cooked by the time we got back.

We got back and the demon came out. She demanded that we go hiking so it wasn’t all bad, but as we had to drive to the trail because the one off the campsite was not suitable for a two year old, she screamed the whole way that she wanted to “GO HIKINIG NOW”.

Hiking started out marvelously.

On her own to start the hike

Getting a little help from mommy up the first hill.

This was the las happy face until it was all over.

The remainder of the hiking consisted of standing still and being carried, along with crying, hitting, kicking the dog, and butt busting. We cut the hike in half and went back to the campsite.

While we were relaxing my perfect angel poured an entire can of soda in the tent, threw the dogs water and food, kicked the dog again, went on a general rampage to the point that I finally said enough and started packing things up as my wife cleaned and helped me tear down. The first camping trip was over. It did not look like there would be another one.

I called and begged my mother-in-law to take our daughter overnight so that we wouldn’t go further out of our minds and she (thankfully) agreed. When we dropped her off I realized that I forgot to give my daughter her nighttime blankets and buddies which could have been one of the reasons for no sleep and we also found out she is cutting her lower rear molars. All of that added up lead us to believe that we could probably try camping again under different circumstances and if we took her brother to keep her busy (and out of our hair).

We headed home and contemplated climbing in bed and not getting out until morning even though it was only 3:30 pm.

We should have.

Instead we decided that we were going to go home and drink a little while we watched a movie which, somehow, turned into, “Let’s buy a bottle of rum and play a movie drinking game”.

Watching The Hangover (a great comedy) and taking a shot every time someone says “Doug” is impossible. I remember making it 32 minutes into the movie and that is only because we were laughing and missed some Doug’s.

I woke up with a horrible headache at 9 am. I freaked out as we had to have our daughter picked up at 11 am. I rolled over to wake up my wife and when I touched her I smelled it. She had vomited in her sleep. She warned me not to come near her as she woke up in it at some point and apparently rolled it up in the sheets (which are being thrown out) and passed back out.

She was lucky that she wasn’t sleeping on her back or she would have choked to death as she was not sleeping, she was passed the ‘f’ out.

Sad part? Probably the best night I have had in years and even thought it took me until 3 or 4 pm to recover enough to not vomit every time I moved, I know I would do it over given the chance and I plan on doing it again. The next time we will wait until the guys get to Vegas to start drinking and instead of slamming shots we will drink mixed drinks and beer, adding a few rules of our own.

So now the house is a mess. Our daughter is asleep after being drugged with teething tablets and Tylenol. My wife is asleep on clean sheets, covered with a clean comforter. My week looks atrocious as I will be struggling to find a way to get back into a routine. And we all feel like we were in the back of a box truck rolling down the side of a mountain.

  • Camping with a cranky toddler – bad.
  • Drinking with your wife – good.
  • Drinking until you blackout – bad.
  • Smiling at the end of the day because you realize the love that exists in your familiy is strong, deep and real – wonderful.

How was your weekend?