Father’s Day Bits and Pieces

Fathers Day MTB

We plan to do some mountain biking today. When my husband and son do steep downhill runs (downhill mountain biking), I just have enough time to drop them off at the top of a mountain and pick them up at the bottom. Hopefully today, if we ride (they went on a very long ride Friday which our son is still recovering from), I can ride, too.

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On the Way to Father’s Day with My Dad

Audio Transcript

I’m on my way to my parents’ memory care to celebrate Father’s Day with my dad. Yesterday when my mother learned that I was going to be celebrating Father’s Day with my dad and not be taking her to her communication recovery group in Newport Beach, she became very distraught, cried, and tried to leave the facility. So, I got a phone call asking if they could hire somebody to take her to the course. It freed me up to meet with my father for Father’s Day.

Granted, I’m not able to take my kid to and from school on Fridays when I go and spend Fridays with my parents. So, whenever I go and spend Fridays with my parents during the week, it interferes with my parenting. Luckily, today my husband’s home and he’s taking my son to school. My son goes to school too far to ride his bike.

So, I’m anxious because I’ll be seeing my mother before she leaves, and I don’t know how she’s going to react. I’m just anxious because whenever I see them, they expect me to get them out of there (their locked memory care community). And, I can just only take so much of it emotionally. It’s very trying.

So, it interferes with my ability to do my passion, which is writing, blogging, which I haven’t been doing as much. And, yes, I know people, some people, are a little concern that I’m doing this while driving. But, it’s a long drive. It’s like a 20 minute, half hour drive. We’re in neighboring cities, but Mission Viejo is a long city. And, then, it takes a while to get from their memory care facility to the Newport Beach communications recovery group.

I just don’t want to keep taking my mom. I want to start backing out of being a caregiver. I still basically am. But, I want to start putting up more boundaries and protecting myself, which I had to do before all this. I had to protect myself. I have to protect my time.

I have to make sure I have enough energy to take care of myself and my son. First and foremost. I have nobody else, beside my husband. Yes, my son is an adolescent, but he doesn’t drive, and it’s just not safe for him to ride his bike to and from school because of super busy streets. The speed limit is like 50 mph. He doesn’t feel comfortable riding on these streets. He feels comfortable on mountain trails, but not on these streets.

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Mental Illness and Violent Acts

My response to Marisa Lancione’s excellent post: Can we stop blaming mass shootings on mental illness?

Honestly, some mass shootings are perpetrated by people with untreated mental illness. I’ve had to stop myself from doing violent things. I’ve had completely horrifying thoughts and impulses, which I’ve had to tell myself not to act on, had to harness all my self control to not do. At the time, in fact, I was amazed that more violent acts don’t occur.

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My response to Henrietta M. Ross’ post: We’re All Serial Killers Now

Brilliant. Just responded to another article that I have fought murderous (and postpartum incestuous and cannibal) thoughts and impulses. At the time, I was amazed that more murders don’t occur (and more infants not eaten).

Day One – Discovery Trail

Did I mention that I’m afraid of heights? Not a crippling fear. I do not have acrophobia and do not want to diminish a very real anxiety disorder. Instead I have what I consider a reasonable fear — the fear of falling off high places. Since I have a history of fighting the urge to “fly” off bridges and cliffs, this fear relates to not only a reasonable fear for basic survival, but to a history of manic or hypomanic symptoms. “Stay on the bridge, Kitt, you cannot fly.” “Stay on the road, Kitt, you cannot fly. You are not driving Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.” Luckily, today I only felt the normal level of fear and had no manic desire to fly. Anyway, back to the prosaic…

Mammoth’s easiest trail, aside from their skill-building loop, requires taking an open air chair lift with no safety bar. (Postscript: My husband and son later showed me that there indeed was a safety bar. I didn’t see it because it was above my head, and I certainly wasn’t looking up any higher. Well, actually, I did enjoy a peak at the summit.) Did I mention that chair lifts freak me out? Well, while my more highly skilled man-boys (husband and teen son) took the gondola high into the clouds, I took the Discovery chair lift alone. So far, twice.

Crap, I Bent a Bike

Trees at Mammoth

Trying to help unload our gear and bags from the car, I moved our minivan closer to our room. Unfortunately, when backing up the minivan, though I did not hear, see, or feel it, my son witnessed me backing up into a concrete piling and in so doing bending at least one of my husband’s bike frames.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

I have a bad history backing up that minivan. Two undeserving, unsuspecting cars have felt the heavy touch of my Toyota Sienna with me at the wheel obliviously backing up out of a parking space. Doesn’t take much for a huge old minivan with poor rear window visibility (especially when loaded with a rack of bikes) and a driver with even poorer depth perception to do significant damage.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

The view from our room is beautiful, though.