14. The Break

Dear London Fire Snake Scorpio,

Neck pain this morning was dull and annoying. A solid 7/10 that I cannot, for the life of me, shake. I just took some Tylenol on top of my regular Naproxen, but I still feel it enough that every motion, noise, and sudden explosion of silliness from the kids makes me wince.

I wanted to tell you so many things since I woke up this morning. Small things, silly things. Things I remembered and things that were happening right there and then. For example, once, at the table, Piggy turned to me with a completely serious face and asked: “Do adults have adult knees?” Confused, I said, “Well, yes.” — “I see,” she answered, “That explains why kids have kidneys.” I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to answer her seriously.

I am clinging to these funny, small things because the anger over being in so much pain, now in the 5th week, is lurking just beneath the surface. I feel like screaming and raging through. What the hell am I doing wrong? The damn vitamins? The type of bra? The way I lie in bed? Sigh. There must be something I can do to get out of this. Must be.

I got out of bed today and was able to set the dishwasher, which I wasn’t even able to finish packing properly — leaving the lower rack half-empty — before I gave in to the pain and went to lie back down. But something is better than nothing. I am so tired of telling you about the damn pain. What a bore.

Let’s talk about other things, more interesting. For now, my son woke up with the need to drive me crazy. He puts me in weird situations, then gets upset that I “don’t believe” him and walks around the house ranting. Just now, he came into the room and told me his sisters are raising the middle finger. I assessed what the best case result here is, and opening my mouth, producing sounds, it’s beyond me at the moment. So I just ignored.

He is definitely having a moment — he is clumsy and has hit his sisters 3 times by sheer accident. Then came to me, asked, “Do I look angry to you?” I looked at him and said, “You look annoyed.” Then he slams his hands on his legs, “Mom! You are rage-bating me by telling me I am angry when I am not!” That got under my Ox skin, so he had the response he was fishing for since morning, and I blew on him. I was resisting his BS for 3 hours since I woke up, so I consider this a decent effort.

It made me smirk thinking about how you would handle this, and how utterly frustrated Stallion would be with trying to get an angry reaction out of you for hours on end with no success.

The food I cooked is awful today, mushed rice and a mess… and I am supposed to make the cupcakes for Drago’s birthday, which I have not sent to school yet for tomorrow. I am not doing well, hon, not at all. This is how I fall apart, not when the pain is at its peak, but when it’s combined with my kids eroding my patience just for the fun of it.

I am not complaining, I swear. I am raising leaders, and those are notoriously awful kids to raise. And who said that parents are the tools on which kids sharpen their teeth? My brain is not working, and my vision is quite blurry. Sigh.

The ex is in the house. He is organizing them to go. Three days ago, I received an invitation to a free party that the kids were invited to. So I passed him the email — he has a car, you see — and said, “Do you want to take the kids?” His response was, “Sure, are you helping me with gas money?” I swear I had to do some really deep breaths before I answered. So eventually he decided to take them anyway, though I most definitely didn’t pay for the gas.

So, as I am semi-paralyzed in bed, he is at the door dressing them up. Though he does not seem to move, and I just want him out of the damn house. Once the kids are out of the house, even for a few hours, the invisible pressure will be released, and I will probably have a little relief. I damn hope. I should go and help, shouldn’t I? Drago has been delegated to dress the girls, and she told him off: “I don’t have to be the parent, you are!” She told him. She’s a spunky one. Damn, I really should get up. But the only way I can would be through tears, and I will not be crying next to that man. Not happening.

---

Well, I did promise you the whole truth. I probably should not have written to you when my brain was so scrambled that it made my barely existing filters disappear. I was in excruciating pain literally all day. My neck locked again, from the jaw down, tight, tight muscles, and I could not release them. Tylenol, tiger balm and still no relief. I could not sit, lie, or stand. God, I truly prayed for death today.

This is where I should have shown myself grace and not felt like slapping myself for the simple mistake that cost me a day of organizing the house. I should have damn well noticed that my hands aren’t hurting anymore. Meaning the vitamin D I took yesterday is working, and in doing so, drained my magnesium resources. I tried everything, except paying attention to the simplest, most stupid chemistry. I suffered through the day, and at 9 PM, when I took my magnesium pill, in 10 minutes, I had relief that made me cry tears of anger and complete exhaustion. Pain is draining.

I should do better. Sigh. So much damn better. Tomorrow I am training. It might be a damn mistake, but I am tired of being a F cripple. I will only do one set of each. I will do it while paying attention and make sure to stop if I need to—but I am training.

The day went through dense fog. I made lunch and supper, I fed the kids, and I had a deeper conversation with Drago about the depression. I told her that thoughts are not something we control, and she should journal them. She feels depressed because she is trying to fix her inner world to fit the world. I tried, I swear I tried to give this the attention it deserved, but I have no way to tell you if I was cohesive, effective, or deep enough. Talking to teens, it’s all about nuances and subtext, and I didn’t have any of my damn faculties available.

I can fight it as much as I want, but until I say “I am sorry, I should have done better” at least here, between the two of us, this anger will not let me be, and then sleep is in danger. I do not feel good about myself today. I do not feel a damn titan.

I keep thinking about your clinical gaze when you discover these letters, how pathetic it must look to you, a woman so damn desperate and lonely that she is casting a net over the ocean to find someone… the one who cares. Soulmates. Love. Rubbish, you probably think. I don’t blame you. Who can look at the mess I am today and see anything worth fighting for?

I promised you truth — well, here it is raising its ugly head. I promised you that you do not need to believe because I do, and I am on the way. Today, that didn’t happen. I will go to sleep now. Tomorrow is a new day, and I might not do better, but I am sure as hell will try my best.

Just one last word about the kids — they played alone for hours on end today, basically running themselves. I am not sure how I won the lottery to have those amazing 4, but seriously, they deserve so much better.

If you are not disgusted by what I am today, then we will talk again tomorrow.

Yours, 
Oxy.
March 22, 2026

Help me find him: Have you seen this man?