I am thinking happy thoughts

I'm thinking of sunshine and butterflies, not shadows and spiders. I'm thinking BFFs and gal pals, not long lost friends and ones that never were. I'm thinking how lucky I am to have such wonderful children, not about the damage a mother like me could be causing them. I am thinking about how much my husband loves me, not about how unhappy he is. I am thinking about what a great thing it is to be alive, not about how not to be. I am thinking of all the things I do right, not about all the things I do wrong. I am thinking about how free I am to live my life, not how few viable choices I actually have. I am thinking of Derek Shepard not Ellis Grey. I am thinking of being happy, safe and whole, not how to alter that.

I am thinking happy thoughts. Really.

Sometimes.

An Entry Full of Nothings

Random Thoughts:

Grey's Anatomy is back!! This season is going to rock! SERIOUSLY! I am so excited about it. Everyone got haircuts (especially Derek and George). Alex grew face fuzz - it suits him and Mark DIDN'T change (wouldn't have fit his character if he did.) And Derek and Meredith "broke up". WOW! Was gonna put in a youtube clip of them breaking up or of the "You're the girl from the bar?" scene but they aren't up yet... I'm not sure why I love GA so much. True, the guys are hot, but lots of shows have hot guys and I'm not obsessed with them.... Maybe they represent everything I wish I was. They have all that knowledge, they are on the brink of their independence, about to choose the rest of their lives. And their lives are complicated and don't always end happily but they show truth, the good and the bad and in the end, what is truth usually wins through. Plus, everyone has someone lusting after them and they are all beautiful and some of the lines just melt my heart. I'd give almost anything to have someone say things like that to me, not quoting GA, but sincerely meaning it. Grey's Anatomy represents all the potential of the world I wish I lived in... SERIOUSLY? SERIOUSLY!!

Grey's Anatomy last night is the first thing I've felt emotions about since Wednesday morning. And I still feel those emotions about it. But everything else is as emotionally useless as the ice cube experiment. This numb has been helpful. Lots of patience with the kids, running errands while sick as a dog didn't phase me, going back to the doctor for my burned arm (recheck) had the potential for the doc to see the "suspicious" cut on my forearm and I didn't mind.

OT: The nurse saw it, didn't comment, but asked me "Is there anything else you want to tell me?" And when I said no, she said nothing. So I don't think the doc saw it. If so, he said NOTHING about it. I like this doc. By the way, the burn is doing wonderful, better even that doc expected. He's very pleased with the progress, gave me new set of instructions to finish up its healing, checked my breathing (or lack thereof), gave me gunk for it and sent me on my way with a smile. This is a good thing. I don't need panic from him. But what does it say about him? Where are HIS boundaries? What would he have to see before he did something about it? I don't know but I don't want to find out either. *wink*

Other numb helped me stay calm (not even tempted to get pissy) with Baby-Mommy and, while it's been filed away for later examination, the things my mom said didn't overwhelm with that eternal guilt and shame that she radiates and I absorb. It didn't terrify me when Hubby was so "frustrated". And I was able to write the blog entry according to the guidelines of a "healthy" reaction. Numb is good... except I didn't feel the good stuff either. Hmmmm...

The ice cube experiment: hold an ice cube in the center of your palm and then close your hands around it tightly. How long can you hold it and what happens when you do? I would love SOOOOO much to know if anyone tries this, what the results are. (**************** AT ***** DOT com. If you don't ever want to hear back from me, that's fine - just mention it in your email with the experiment results. (I'm betting on NO email results. That's okay, I don't care...)

Music: right now, Josh Groban's You Are Loved (Don't Give Up) is sustaining me. My heart is so dark, it gives me momentary light. What I would give to have someone say that to me and mean it. Just hold me close in your arms, let me hear your heartbeat, the strength of your arms, hold me with the intention of making me feel safe (I can feel your intentions, you know) and not to rid yourself of guilt or set me up for a more intimate encounter. Listening to him singing so reassuring, so supportive, so hopeful... it can pull me away from that blackest pit of despair. I embedded a YouTube clip with that song a few posts back. I won't put it in again, but seriously (seriously?! seriously!) take a look at the lyrics and listen to the song.

In other news, Grey's Anatomy is back!! OMG OMG OMG! Oh wait, I already said that... *huge grin* Did I mention that Grey's Anatomy is back? Check out this music video. It has past scenes and season 4 premiere scenes and the lyrics rock!



Let's see... any other random thoughts? Nothing that I could say concisely. So I think I'll refrain completely...

Email for me

To My "Friend" Who Emailed Me:

I have to say I was surprised that someone actually took the time and effort to email me a comment. Kind of flattering in a way... Of course the content was not flattering but it was insightful. And it had an effect... I quit blogging for a few days. A true friend tried to convince me to start again. I blew him off. (Sorry to him!) My psychologist/therapist/shrink talked me back into it. I think I'll listen to him rather than you - he is a bit better informed. The shrink said it might be "therapeutic" to respond to your email publicly - "affirming my intentions" he called it.

So here we go:

Self-indulgent. Well, yes, often it is. I don't have many people I can vent to and sometimes, even with them, some things I can't talk about head on. One friend reads this and then we can talk about the things I couldn't say or he can choose not to approach the subject. My blog is self-indulgent? Yeah, it is, but sometimes it helps just to get it out of my head or to figure out how I really feel about some things.

Pessimistic: yeah, mostly. That's how I feel, how I think and in real life, to your face, you'd probably see my "I'm fine - all's good" face. At this point, I'm still making it all the way through the day and still breathing at the end. I have a hand-written journal where I write affirmations and positive thought activities like that. My blog is for where my heart is. Right now it's in a very dark place. So, yeah, it's pessimistic.

I'm a "drama queen:" You aren't the first to say and you won't be the last. Little things that don't phase others hit me harder than they should. I make a big deal over things that probably aren't important in the big picture. At the time, it's a big deal to me. And blogging about it puts it back into perspective when I look back on it. And, some times my life is so bizarre that if I submitted it to a soap opera unedited, they would reject it as too unrealistic.

That leads into the last and most upsetting comment you made:

"You're probably just making this all up anyways:" First, I have a regular readership of ONE. Why would I bother making such a frequent blog full of fake things? Next, just supposing there is a small chance it is true... your invalidation (another shrink word) is one of the biggest reasons I refuse to talk to my loved ones about this stuff. What if they don't believe me? So, thanks for hitting my sorest point. Lastly, I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to agree with you. Can you think of a way to make that happen? I've been trying. It isn't working...

Now that I've addressed YOUR main issues, here's my take.

First of all, you probably aren't reading this. If you thought it was such crap, I'm sure you won't be back. So let me make this clear that I wrote this to you FOR ME.

Secondly, I have a target audience of ONE - ME. If anyone else reads, fine. If you feel like commenting and want to email me, fine. But this is my place. As my mother always said when I was growing up: MY HOUSE, MY RULES! You cut deep with your remarks and I wonder if you emailed on impulse or if you thought you would be helping me by "calling me out" (as my kids say) or if you had no idea how much your words would sting, or if you are just a mean person. I don't know because I don't know you. And you don't know me either so you have no right to judge me and basically call me a liar. (I NEVER lie. period.) I shouldn't care a bit about what you wrote, but I do. That's my problem, not yours.

And last of all, even though I don't like the way you said what you said, you gave me cause to reassess the purpose of my blog and you reached out and touched me and let me know that you read it. The former was probably overdue and the latter was surprising but moving.

So, my email pal, it all boils down to: I'm doing want I want, what I feel I need and in my own way. So if you don't like it: DON'T READ!

Best Intentions,
Me

Alone inside my Mirror Wall and planning to stay here

i told him i'm scared. i told him i'm not safe. i thought i had made it clear that i wanted to rip the bandaid off and go from there. he wants me to peel it off slowly, acknowledge the pain but not react to it and distract myself in between.

he says to look at some of it, feel and see whatever is there, then go do something productive to distract from it.

i said i'm not safe. he told me to be safe.

he doesn't get that once i start letting this through, i won't be able to do it selectively. i can't dissolve the Wall then be okay again in 45 minute segments and i still can't conceive of breaking through my glass Wall.

how do i tell him that? and how do i tell him that when he has said repeatedly his biggest fear is messing this up? doesn't he see that he's put the burden of not wanting to hurt him on me instead of reassuring me that the rest doesn't scare him off as i think he intended?

i can't do this. i want out. i'm not going to do this. screw confronting the Wall, i need to stay safe and he can't guarantee my safety. his plans DON'T WORK FOR ME.

i'm failing him. i'm failing me. i'm failing my kids and my family and my friends. the Wall stays. both Walls. i will just find a way to reinforce them. here comes zombie to take over for a while. she can help with the Wall repairs.

i'm going to bed.

Going Numb

Baby-Mommy made her decision. She is taking Baby away from me to put her in daycare. She told me this early this week and I got very upset but I didn't tell her off or try to convince her otherwise. I didn't even cry. But another strand of the thin rope from which I am hanging... snapped. Yesterday I sent her an email. I included the link to this YouTube clip, telling her this is how I feel about keeping Baby instead of her being taken away and sent to daycare:



And then I told her I would do anything she wanted, make any changes she wanted in how and what I do for and with the baby. I would get us involved in activities with other babies, or get new toys, or never give advice again or whatever this free daycare has that I don't... I'd make it happen.

She chose daycare. Here are excerpts from the email reply she sent:

my healthy family's advisor feels that would be the best place for her because these people are TRAINED to develop babies and children and prepare them for preschool. Many of them have social services degrees or teaching certificates etc. They can keep track of her development benchmarks and make sure she meets or surpasses them as she should.

So this is what they can do that I can't: take care of her like she deserves. Okay, I get it...

There's more, despite us having this exact conversation and me telling her exactly why having Baby here is more help than harm AND that both Craig and I understand AND DON'T CARE about the money. Dammit - it's NEVER been about the money! But she says,

One of my biggest problems is financial and practical. You have MORE than enough on your plate and I know how [HUBBY] is - he wants me to pay you and I can't. He doesn't understand my finances and neither do you. And frankly, I'm an adult and not responsible for explaining my money spending reasons with anyone. I'm certainly not going to start now. You both will just have to trust that I'm doing what's right and best for [BABY] and I financially.

So she thinks that she should choose free daycare because she can't pay me and is very specific that her money is her business and NONE OF MINE. (We've discussed money before... whether or not certain things are viable, where we stand in our lives, how a lack of money really sucks, venting over how much specific things cost... that kind of thing.)

So, to recap, we'll be going from me having Baby 10-ish hours a day 5-ish days a week to me seeing her sometimes on the weekends if she has time or needs a sitter because I can't take care of Baby right. My hubby and I supposedly have issues with her not paying me that make me want her to take Baby away. And I have no business discussing money with her, especially if we disagree over it. Then she ends with this...

I am certainly more than happy to share her with you and I'm not taking her away from you. We can work out time for you two to be together. I could never take her away from you and you know that. You're Auntie [ME] and she loves you. And if the daycare thing doesn't work out I'm more than happy to bring her back to you if you'll have her but I'm being told by someone who is an expert and has a bachelor's degree in child development who says this is the best thing for her.

Don't stop giving me advice - I need that. Even if we disagree. Even if we fight. I need you there to be my big sister, my mother hen - to give me a shoulder to cry on and someone to share laughter with. I need you to be there for her as she grows up and for me as my daughter grows up and becomes a woman.

So... don't give your opinion but don't stop giving advice. You can't watch her and will have to schedule time to be with her (which she usually breaks our "dates", BTW) but be there for us as she grows up.

All I say now is... whatever. I hurt so bad last night I wanted to die. I still do. But I am going numb at a rapid pace and maybe this is a good thing. Numb would be better than feeling my heart has been ripped out, sew back in poorly, and ripped out again. ("Why a spoon, Cousin?" "Because it would hurt more!" Robin Hood Prince of Thieves) I'm losing another baby. I can't handle this...

"Calgon! Take me away!"

The song "It's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)" (REM) keeps running through my head.

Tell Me. Have You Ever Felt...

Tell me. Have you ever felt weighed down so heavily by your life and the things in it that you felt you would collapse under it and yet couldn't bear the thought of a single part of the weight removed? Have you ever felt that everything you do is completely wrong and yet not want anyone else to do it instead? Have you ever felt so strongly that you absolutely must do something to the point that it happens without you knowing you did it and then wishing just as strongly you could take it back? Have you ever felt that intense desire for something to come to pass, then desire just as intensely that it never had? Have you ever felt you knew what needed to be done, but could not make the sacrifices required to do it? Have you ever felt the only thing to do was die and known that was the one thing you were not allowed to do?

I have.

"I'm ready to tell you my secret now."
(The Sixth Sense)

Poetry? I don't write poetry...

You Never Saw Me, Did You?

You never saw me watching you from underneath long hair
You never saw me looking, didn't know I was even there
You never saw me crying after you'd left the room
You never saw me at all, at least that's what I assume.

I watched every time you turned away from me
I was everything you never wanted to see
I always knew I was the plague to you
I always felt I was the plague to me too.

You never saw me taking bottles of pills from off the shelf
You never saw me wanting so much to kill myself
You never saw me crying every single night
You never saw me, you never saw me, right?

I heard every word you said to me, every single word
I wished to run away from you or fly, like a bird
I felt it every time you hit my back, my legs, my face
I would have tried to hide but there is no safe place.

You never saw me burning or cutting with a knife
You never saw me hurting until I tried to take my life
You never saw me crying there in the hospital bed
You never saw me lying there, not dead.

I knew everything I did was the wrong thing in your eye
I would ruin moments, steal from you, lie
I always knew you hated me in the way you said my name
I wondered if you ever knew that I always felt the same.

You never saw me hiding the shame as I did as I was told
You never saw me falling apart since I was 4 years old
You never saw me losing hope and giving up (or wanting to)
You never saw me even at all, never, did you?

Once Upon a Time

there was a little girl who lived in a little, red brick house on the corner of the street. The little girl had a Mommy and a Daddy and an Aunt and an Uncle and a dog and a cat and they all lived with her in the little, red brick house on the corner of the street.

The little girl loved her family very much and her family loved her very much too. She loved to play on the swingset and run through the grass in bare feet. She loved to climb trees and hide in bushes. She loved to read and tell stories and draw pictures. The little girl also loved music, listening to it, singing it and dancing to it. She learned ballet and tap dancing and took tumbling on Wednesday nights.

The little girl was very curious and wanted to know everything about everything. She had lots of energy and could find the sun on the cloudiest of days. She always had a nice word and a smile and a hug for everyone, whether she knew the person or not. She trusted everyone with open arms and an open heart.

Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived in a little, red brick house on the corner of the street. And she was a happy little girl.

THE END

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey..."

The Paradox of Intimacy

I want so much for them to know how much I hurt inside. But I won't tell them. I want Craig to know when I am not safe, so he can pull me into his arms and tell me everything is going to be okay. But even when he asks me straight out to tell him what is going on in my head, I won't tell him. Baby-Mommy says I can call her any time, day or night, for anything. If I need help, if I need to talk, if I just need to hear someone's voice - I can call her. But I won't. The shrink says to call him before I do anything. But I won't.

I feel so entirely alone but the shrink really nailed it on the head, didn't he? I am alone because I choose to be. I don't think it is the same as because I *want* to be, but I think he is right that it is by choice. I am afraid. I don't want to ask for help because I'm afraid someone will give it to me. I don't want people to know that I'm hurting because they might take away the things that are important to me, even though it is those very things that often exacerbate the pain. I don't want to face the things that are tearing me apart because they will shut me down. And yet, how I long to do just that... shut down.

The shrink said my Wall goes around me, not outside of me. It has been suggested before and I refused to accept the idea. I push things over the Wall when I can't or won't deal with them. The Wall holds in all that stuff and keeps it away from me. It is circular, a burial ground. Yet it is being suggested again, by the shrink this time, that I am on the inside of the Wall and that is why I feel so alone. I still feel my metaphor is valid, but perhaps there is an overlying metaphor. Perhaps both concepts can be correct and are not, in fact, mutually exclusive.

Maybe there is my Wall, inside which I stash my dirty laundry, and an outer Wall of some kind. It feels different, though. When I mentally feel around for an image that fits, testing the waters gently for that "right" impression, I feel certain that my Wall, my huge brick Wall, separates me from everything I refuse to see but have experienced. And I think there is another Wall, like an impenetrable piece of glass that lets me see out but not let anyone see in, like a two-way mirror. I can see what is out there, see it but not experience it; the polar opposite of my brick Wall where I experienced it but don't see it.

Can I break through the Wall? Yes, I believe I could. Will I? Doubtful, without a lot of help at least. I am afraid of what I will find. Can I break through the Mirror? Yes, I believe I could. Will I? Doubtful, even with a lot of help. There is too much at sake that could be lost.

"The seasons ought to be/ Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat"
(Carbon Leaf, "Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat")

DogTags

He ships out tomorrow and even though I know he will be perfectly fine, I can't help but worry. I put my hands against his chest and felt the chain that lie beneath his t-shirt and a spot somewhere inside me went cold. I pulled the chain out from under the shirt and turned the dogtags over and over in my hands. It seemed so very real all of the sudden. Even though this trip has been planned for a long time, it isn't his first trip and it won't be his last trip, I still get scared every time he goes and stay that way until I see with my own eyes that he is home, whole and safe.

I must have asked him a million times if he is going to be okay and he could tell me a million and one times and it would still not be enough. The fact is he is going away to war and no matter where he is on the base, he is still at war. Holding those dogtags in my hands brought the whole reality of it crashing down. He is the closest I have ever been to "war". Never, in any lifetime, have I been exposed to its horrors or its fallout.

Please, God, bring him home safely. Bring them all home safely, but please be sure to bring him home safely.

"The light of God surrounds you,
"The love of God enfolds you,
"The power of God protects you,
"The presence of God watches over you.
"Wherever you are, God is, and all is well."
(Unity Prayer for Protection)

Happy Birthday

It is my birthday. Today I am 31 years old. Last year I refused to acknowledge my birthday but no one would let me forget it. This year I really don't care. It's a birthday - so what? Am I supposed to celebrate this day? the day of my birth? the beginning of a lifetime of pain that I caused? the day I have wished could never have happened for as long as I can remember? I celebrate it with the mask that I need to wear to keep people happy but in my heart I do not celebrate it.

Last night I stayed up very very late. I do not know why - I had nothing special I was doing. I just didn't want to go to bed. I surfed the Internet and I read emails and the Friday night stories. I watched recorded copies of "my" shows and I read a magazine. I didn't do any writing or blogging or meaningful reading. I just didn't go to bed. I think maybe I just didn't want today to come.

Each year on my birthday, I reflect back on what I learned over the past year. Last year I learned it is possible to trust but that doesn't mean you won't still get hurt. It's just a different kind of hurt, one that isn't meant to demean and degrade and show your faults and failings. This kind of hurt, from someone I can trust, is about showing truths that I don't want to see and being willing to do things that upset me, even hurt me, but are to help me. It's strange, finding that trust, real trust, can still hurt. Maybe pain in universal. Maybe pain means absolutely nothing at all. Maybe that's why things that shouldn't hurt do and things that should hurt don't.

This year I also had what I have always known confirmed. Do or don't do, anywhere in the middle means getting caught and getting caught is a very very very bad thing. Ah well, I have to learn that lesson over and over it seems...

"Happy birthday to you..."

Alone in a Crowded Room

I feel so alone. I don't know how to explain it. It's not like I'm ever actually alone. And even on the extremely rare times when I am physically alone, I am never alone in my head. And yet I feel incredibly alone. I have friends, online and in RL, and they talk to me and I talk to them but I don't think they have any idea how I feel or all the things that happen behind the scenes. Mostly this is because I won't tell them. I just can't afford to let them in. The warring factions in my head don't want interference. It is very difficult when so many parts of me want to feel better, to get better, to be better and yet so many parts of me know I don't deserve to feel better. There is so much hatred inside of me, for me, about me. I want to hide. I want to be invisible. I want to die. But I don't want to hurt my kids and the people who care about me. And I don't want to admit to feeling so dark because it would first of all get me into trouble, secondly hurt the people I care about, and mostly it would destroy the things I most cherish. It is ironic that trying to be everything I want to be is the very thing ripping me apart. I want to be home for the kids. I want to be influential in my writing groups. I want to be Baby-Mommy's shoulder to cry on and the only one who knows how to take care of Baby.

And yet I know the swiftest way to recovery would be to immerse myself in these horrors that I have been rejecting for as long as I can remember. As the shrink would say, to destroy the Wall, all of it, all at once. Remember it, feel it, accept it and grow out of it. Radical acceptance, he calls it. I can't accept what I won't experience or remember experiencing. But that type of immersion would take me down. I would not be able to function while drowning in that pain, even if I knew I could rise out of the ashes like a phoenix.

Although that would be the quickest way, it is not the way I can choose. I cannot drop out of my life for the time it takes to fall down and stand up again. My children could not have me disappear for a while, every moment is critical in the life of a child. If I were to shatter, even knowing I would heal again, Baby-Mommy would take Baby away from me and I would never be able to regain that relationship with her. And every moment is exponentially critical in the life of an infant. I think everyone else would understand or at least not be destroyed. But my children, including Baby, mean everything to me.

And so, the best I can do is take this ever so very slowly and try my best to hang on tight to everything I hold dear. Every moment is a labor of pain but done for love. I wish every moment of every day for the peace of death and do not really trust myself to keep my body safe from the damages of my mind. I have no doubt that I will burn my flesh again, though I may not mean to. I will likely cut and scratch at my skin until I draw blood, though I may not feel it at all. I may even take pills that I ought not take, though it would not be done lightly for I strain against that with everything I can and the force to be so drastic is weaker than my will to protect my children.

It will be a long path to recovery, piece by piece, two steps forward and one step back, but it is the best I can do. I know my best is not good enough, not now and maybe not ever. But it is my best and I can only pray it will suffice. I don't want to look at the things behind the Wall. And every time I do so, it tears at my heart and my will. I know I have no choice so I will do what I must but I am scared. Perhaps, if there is a conscious God, He will bring me home instead of bringing me to this pain. Or perhaps, He knows I deserve every moment of the pain and more.

"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned..."

She Could Have Died

She could have died. Right there - right here - in my front yard, she could have died. Twelve years old with her whole life ahead of her and she almost lost it all. A poor judgement call, a slip of the shoe and she almost lost it all. With two kindergarten boys and her almost 12 year old boyfriend watching her fall, watching the rope they've played on for years go tight and nearly take the life of a young girl.

She could have died. In my yard, on my watch, in my tree...

Just a trick. She was showing off for Kid-1 and tried a very stupid trick. The rope, knotted around her neck, climbing the tree, just a trick, watch this trick. She slipped, she fell.

He saved her. He probably saved her life. He brought the little stepladder, the 3-step one the little kids use to reach the first branch. He brought it and put it under her feet. He saved her.

The bruising. The cut. She looks like she was brutally attacked. She's only 12. And she nearly died. She could have died.

She could have died.

More Random Thoughts

Where do "things I want to have but need to have but still really want to have" fit on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs? I didn't see a tier for "selfish, materialistic desires"

Why do I feel more like Baby's mommy than her auntie/babysitter? Am I wrong to feel that way if I don't tell Baby-Mommy this? Why doesn't Craig understand that I don't tell Baby-Mommy no because I feel Baby is my responsibility too? I can't explain why, but she is. She's my baby as much as Baby-Mommy's. Heck, even Baby-Mommy refers to her as "our" baby.

Saturday I rode a bicycle to a park about 1/2 a mile from our house with the boys and carrying (wearing) a rather heavy backpack. We stayed for about 20 minutes then came back home again. I had 2 asthma attacks (one each way) and my knee swelled up for about an hour and I ended up taking a rather strong pain pill.

Today I walked a little over a mile carrying Baby and Baby's carrier and wearing the same backpack only now at about triple weight in the noon day sun. (Baby was heat and sun protected!) I had one asthma attack and every muscle in my body is trying to figure out what it did to deserve such a cruel punishment.

The burn on my arm is trying to heal, I think. I still can't figure out whether to keep a dressing on it. I called the GP and his nurse said to leave it open to the air so it can dry out and form a scab. It has been open since late Friday afternoon. It won't dry. The best I can get is sticky and that's if I put it directly in the path of a breeze or fan. Someone says it hurts and for a while, it did hurt! But now I only know it hurts because someone is telling me this. What's the deal with that? I made an appointment with GP to get it checked. I need it to heal before Craig sees the scope of the damage.

Speaking of the scope of the damage, we are actively having to restrain Pyro again. He wants to "fix it" by making it an oval shape instead of the awkward-to-explain wonky cross that doesn't even look like a cross. I feel him bubble up behind my eyes. I feel him pulling at the minds of everyone holding on to him. I tried putting away the candles. I tried putting away the lighter. He says that won't stop him and that we can only hold him back for so long. We will continue to hold onto him. Tomorrow maybe we can get help.

I had a dream last night that totally blew my mind apart. I woke up from it, not screaming or yelling, not even scared, just so deeply hurt and shocked and horrified. I spoke with the girls this morning and they have agreed to stop throwing pictures at me. We threatened to throw THEM over the Wall if they couldn't lay off. I'm not ready to deal with this yet. I'm just not ready.

It takes a lot of energy to suppress thoughts and emotions that I'm not allowed to feel. They spout off inside my head and are promptly pounced on and buried again. But they come back. They are things no one can change but me and there is this huge tug of war between wanting to change and be rid of those feelings and thoughts and feeling that they are totally valid, real, and can never be changed. Anyone who says contrary doesn't know the whole story, doesn't know me.

I watched the movie "Stay" with Ewan McGregor and and Ryan Gosling. It is about a psychiatrist filling in for a different psychiatrist who finds that one of the patients is seriously suicidal and follows through the next three days until the kid says he's going to do it. By halfway through, it obvious there is something weird going on. By the end it becomes a TOTAL MIND F*CK!! It was so weird I sat staring at the televsion for 15 minutes afterwards just trying to figure out what the heck happened. Two days later, I am still trying to decide if it was a total deus et machina or not. Whacked movie... would prolly be awesome on some kind of drug trip (yeah, as if I would know *rolls eyes*) but as it stood it pulled me along on a wild ride trying to figure out what was going on and when the end came I went - WTF?! Seriosuly... massive MIND F*CK!!


One more thing before I go bang my head against a brick wall until it begs for mercy then hide in the closet until the next millenium...

Why are most people afraid of death?

And It All Comes Down to MONEY

On Saturday, my son turns 12. This is his first year in middle school and I want him to make a good impression. I want him to be happy. I feel so materialistic, but I want to give him things that make him happy. Somehow a big hug and a heart-felt "I love you!" just isn't gonna cut it. Anything I could do for him that would be above and beyond every day stuff... it all takes money. I think the current plan is to take him and some of his friends to play laser tag on his birthday. (How are we going to pay for that?) So what happens if his friends don't show? He doesn't know it but his "real" friends aren't the kids from school that he hangs out with only at school. His real friends are his brothers and the neighbor boys and the kid around the corner. They play with him when he is happy and the forgive him when he gets mad. They may not be in middle school yet, but they are always there - they are his "real" friends, and he doesn't even know it. He isn't inviting any of them to his party. Some day he'll realize it, hopefully before it's too late.

So, he'll have his party and we'll see what happens. Then there is the matter of his birthday presents. I have no idea what to get him! He won't give me any idea of what he wants. Football gloves and an mp3 player. That's it. That's all he'll say. The entire list I have to give to everyone. WTF?! What do I do with this? (And how do I pay for whatever gift we give him?)

Beyond that, there are so many things going on and they all seem to boil down to one solution - more money. How do we pay the back bill for the pediatric urologist so we can schedule the test that needs to be done and then how do we pay for the test? How do we pay for the psychiatrists and the pediatricians and orthopedic specialists? How can I find the cash to get the kids' eyes checked? Kid-2 *really* needs to have them checked ("every 6 months" and it's been 2 years) and Kid-1 prolly ought to, to make sure his prescription hasn't changed. And Kid-3 should be checked too, especially since all three of the others need to go in. There are so many bills to be paid, big ones and little ones. And all the little things that turn out not to be so little: school pictures for 3 kids this week. School lunches, football fees, drum lessons, gymnastics, dance, school dances and back-to-school carnivals.

There are other things... Craig had to put the spare tire on my car because my tire was so stripped bare, even the little bitty metal thread things were broken. He said I am *very* lucky it didn't blow out while I was on the highway - it could have caused a major accident. (And I'm not allowed to wish that had happened, with fatal results for me and no collateral damage.) He says all 4 tires are critically bad but that one tire is lethally bad. All 4 tires, he says, for the kind he says we need, will be somewhere between $350 and $400. And it has to happen. How?

Then there are all the things I shouldn't even be putting on the list but somehow got in there anyways. There are books I want (not a big deal). There are some shirts and jeans and things I want (again, not a big deal). There is software I want: MS Office, incl Access (and I *really* want it!) and Dragon NaturallySpeaking (I *really* want that too!) and Final Draft (I want that but it can wait). And there are activities that I want. I want to go to school. Just one course a semester, just one. But that's $400 we certainly don't have. And I want to rejoin Curves - I hate the way I look, the way I feel. Refusing to eat has helped - 25 pounds of helped - until I got busted and now I have people checking up on me, making sure I'm eating. And as a result, 5 of those pounds have come back already with more to come, I'm sure. I don't know what else I can do that works with who I am and what my physical limitations are and the Curves program is perfect. I did it for a while and *loved* it. I only quit when I had knee-breaking surgery and that was with the intention of returning. Except now I can't - it's another $30 a month.

If money weren't an issue, the bills would get paid every month, the doctors would get paid on time, medical attention would happen when it needs to happen, including dental and vision. The kids would take the activities they want and that fit into their lives and their schedules and to their tastes. I could buy the baby the things that I want her to have. I could get Kid-1 into counseling and checked for braces and get the braces if they are warranted. I would take one class per semester, fall and spring, until time and mental stability allow me to take more. We could do birthdays and Christmas and handle emergencies. And maybe have a little savings just in case.

I'm not asking for enough to buy a yacht and a mountain get-away. I don't want to buy the kids designer clothes and expensive everythings. I'm not even asking for enough to pay off our house and car flat-out. Just enough to be able to pay our bills and take care of our kids.

And the thing is, there isn't a way out of this. We can't sell the house and downgrade: we couldn't get out of it what we owe on it. We can't sell the van and downgrade for the same reason. I can't go back to work and even if I could, without crashing and burning to a point of no return, it would mean losing my SSDI to a job that won't pay as much as the disability does; I can't go back into my former profession: 6 years is a lifetime in IT and I'm obsolete in a world that is teaming with 20-somethings who are on top of the world. I could think of something under the table but I don't feel right about that and it'd be back to the whole crash and burn scenario. Craig can't get another job in his field at his rate and he can't get an additional job because of his work schedule.

Is there a solution? Is there a way out of this mess? We are drowning in debt and we don't even own a credit card! It's not like we're out partying and buying extravagant things and racking up credit card debt for stupid things. I just want to be able to pay the medical bills!

Oh well, nothing that complaining can fix. Might as well shut up now. *sigh*

Dragging the Bottom of the River (CRAZY WEEK pt 3.5)

CRAZY WEEK, part three and a half

Wednesday night/Thursday morning: It had been a rough 3 days. Three little days that could have been an entire month because each day seemed to go on forever. Truth be told, Thursday and Friday were almost nothing, not even footnotes in the annals of CRAZY WEEK. But by Wednesday night, I was strung out, stretched out, worn out, and drama-ed out. Getting lost on the way home that night really did no good. Especially since I got lost because I missed my exit because I was trapped in the middle lane on all sides by semi-trucks and never even saw the exit.

Anyhow, that was part of Wednesday and by the time I got home it was very clearly Thursday. I figured I would sleep like the dead but was granted no such victory.

Semi-trucks haunted my dreams. The smell of an old sleeper-cabin used for intimate activities jerked at my senses even through sleep. A slight overtone of Old Spice - the original - hanging over the primitive rankness. The feeling of being unstable where every so often, at unpredictable times, the whole world would sway and shudder like slipping at the edge of a cliff and knowing how close I came to falling into the sea. The damp heat of stagnant, sun-warmed air, sweat wanting to rise on my bare skin kept at bay only by an unwillingness to do anything that might prove I am alive. A distant roar, steady as the droning of bees, with sudden crescendos as of angry waves breaking against unbeatable cliffs.

The first night, only my senses were assailed but they were assaulted repeatedly throughout the short night. In the morning, knowledge - new to me but as old as the memories themselves - existed where a blank void had been. I prefer the blank void. After that night and every night since, more has been added to the dream... words, pictures, feelings, footage that continues beyond the sensory snapshot of Wednesday night. No new knowledge has emerged from the dreams, just the intense and painful re-enactment of one horrible night long ago that happened to a different person, to a little girl who now refuses to speak for herself, even among the anonymity of the group structure. She cries now, the little girl, for she feels the pain that I no longer remember except as fact. I think it is like the knowledge that brothers fought against each other in the Civil War and the horrid, rending pain that must have created in their hearts - I know it was painful, but I do not *feel* the pain of it.

She existed before that night. She existed long before that night. And she exists still today. She shelters me from the pain that hurts the heart too much to bear, turns it into someone else's pain, leaving behind simply the knowledge that it was painful. I do not know when she appeared in my head. Perhaps she was the first of the Voices that were more than a thought, perhaps she is nothing more than that even now.

I cannot go further tonight. My heart keeps seizing like an icy hand gripping it painfully tight and releasing just as quick. It isn't a panic attack per se. It's more like a spasm, but it grips my heart and radiates pain and shock and fear and horror and hopelessness and death all together in one, maybe two seconds. Then it passes, leaving me wondering if I truly felt all that so quickly and praying it doesn't happen again.

"Pray with me, Forrest!
"Please, God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away from here...
"Please, God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away from here...
"Please, God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away from here..."
(Jenny in Forrest Gump)