Sliding

When I was a little girl I swore I would never be like my mother. Without inadvertently throwing myself the proverbial pity party- suffice it to say she was a bat-shit crazy bitch.

Over the four plus decades of my life I've done my best to hang on to my sanity lest I succumb to the suckfest that seems to be my maternal genetic gift. Apart from the fiasco that was my first marriage, I think I've managed to dodge that bullet--until now.
My daughter is 15. She, along with her 17 year old special needs brother, is the only meaningful and positive thing to come out of said marriage.

Really, I suppose just acknowledging that I am trying to raise a perpetually PMS'ing girl and a rigid, socially awkward boy may give me the reassurance I need that if my cheese is only now attempting to slide off my cracker-I haven't done a half bad job of keeping it together. 

I'm struggling right now. Both mentally and physically. I'm not really sure what my main problem is but I know this...I am NOT happy. I'm irritable with my kids, bitchy to my husband and isolating myself from my friends. To add fuel to the fire, I have a mystery knee injury that is keeping me from my sanity-saving runs. The only thing that gives me a whit of pleasure right now is Honey Bear, my 5 pound blonde bundle of Pom-A-Poo. 

I know this will pass. School starts in 10 days. My life can get back to some semblance of a routine. I can write, finish my personal training course and hopefully get back to my thrice weekly runs. 

In the meantime I'm holding on but losing my fingernails as I skitter down the rock wall.