Is it really garbage picking if the stuff you find is awesome?! The rich town up the highway had their annual clean up days so we went “treasure hunting.” That’s what we told our 3.5yr old.
Oh my God was it awesome!! We found some really awesome stuff to sell. That’s right to sell.
Part of my new business venture will be selling items from the foreclosure properties we clean out. Right now we have a spot at the flea market. However, when selling other people’s stuff we only get a partial cut. Meaning we aren’t making a ton of money, just enough to keep going.
So by selling our own items as well it will help increase personal profit.
Anyways it was a totally fun night till the littlest one decided he didn’t want to do it anymore.
A while ago the husband and I decided to try starting a business. A foreclosure clean out business to be precise. So now it is coming to fruition(I feel like that is spelt wrong).
I am scared and nervous. It’s as though I am putting a large part of myself on the line. But I’m tired of barely getting by. I want to do more, make more, and feel more successful.
I also worry that my mental health will derail me. Then the little voice says “well if you keep taking your meds you won’t become a fucking lunatic. Also you like working, it keeps you focused!’
So then I say “I hope your right.”
Yesterday at an appt with a relatively new med doctor. She said a diagnosis. The above title, which happens to fall under a bipolar 1 disorder. In the years of being treated I have never asked for my diagnosis. Most doctors hand me pills and send me on my way.
This woman sits with me, talks with me, tells me what each med helps, and that after time the side affects should go down. She saw what being off of my zoloft did to me.
I have never cared for the med doctors. But I like this one and trust her.
My mother however, felt differently. She admitted that she doeant spend as much time with me or talk to me so she can’t judge for sure my level of fucked upness. She felt it was just thrown out there.
Me to her in my most candid moment:
She didn’t throw it at me. She mentioned it casually. In all this time I have been seeing doctors no one has ever told me a diagnosis. They have given me pills an sent me on my way. This woman spends time with me, talks with me, and makes me feel more normal when it comes to certain behaviors. If she was one of the other doctors I wouldn’t be so inclined to believe it.
You’re right in saying you aren’t around/talk to me enough. Without the meds I can feel myself slipping into an abyss. I don’t think you understand the full extent of rage of feel towards myself and others. How I have beaten myself with hairbrushes or my fist till i cant feel my legs or arms. Which I’ve been doing off and on since my early teens.
I feel so guilty and full of panic. My mind rushes and rushes.
And most of the time all these feelings and actions are happening all at once. I will be screaming at donny and the boys and I won’t know why. I’ll feel so guilty and I want to claw my body apart, or smash my head into a wall.
I am married and have two little boys. Frequently I find myself yelling. However, it doesn’t always start this way. I try my best to ask nicely “please put your toys away” or “please don’t punch your brother in the head.”
So the big question is, why does no one listen till I’m hollering or screaming? Then everyone gets their panties in a bunch and treats me like I’m being unreasonable!!
I asked you politely to please put on underwear or pants!! It doesn’t matter which one as long as something is covering your penis and ass!!!