Hold On to Your Seats...

I think I just had a GOOD DAY!! I'm too 'bouncy bouncy bouncy' to give a play-by-play so here are the highest points...

Therapy went omg-good this morning. It seemed like we touched on so many different things and most of what we touched on came away somewhat productive. Some were more productive than others. Highlights:

I showed The Shrink the lyrics to Let You Down and told him how it feels like they stole them out of my head. He was very careful in how he worded it, but it was dead obvious that he had no idea why I would think they apply to me. He doesn't see me letting people down and made it very clear that I have never let him down. I don't think that's entirely true... I've done some pretty stupid things, including some crises that screwed with his day. But the genuine shock and confusion went a long way. Especially since of the three people with whom I have discussed the lyrics haunting me... all three couldn't figure out why I felt that way. EGO BOOST!

The single biggest revelation from therapy this morning came when The Shrink called me out on something I do all the time but have never really noticed/paid attention to. He had asked me a question - the kind that does have a right/wrong answer - and I nailed it on the head (rare for me). He told me I was right and reiterated the part I said that was the point he was trying to make. So, super bright, I said, "Wow! I got it right! Do I get my gold star for the day?"

First he made his standard reply: "Do you want one?" But then he got his 'I'm trying to figure you out' squinty look and he said, "Why did you get sarcastic?"

BUSTED! "I dunno. I felt silly and uncomfortable, nervous." And POW it hit me. I do that all the time. When I get something right and it gets noticed, I get uncomfortable and do anything I can to deflect it. I will trivialize it or nit-pick at it until it doesn't seem 'right' at all or make a joke out of it or put the credit on someone else or whatever it takes to make it go away. On the other hand, if I do something wrong, I blow it up huge and make a big deal out of it, apologize all over for it, take intense personal credit for it (regardless of why it actually happened), hold it against myself and refuse to let go of it.

I know why I do this. I know where it comes from and what purpose it served. But it's not serving me well anymore. I'm not that kid now (usually). The Shrink says that if I let myself see and FEEL when I do good, that I am good (which I am still debating strongly) that I won't have nearly so many problems as I have. Because I'm all about minimizing my positives and highlighting my flaws.

So... the goal is to see the good. Now, it won't do me any good to try to tell myself that I am a good mommy or a good friend or good wife. I don't believe it. I see all the evidence to contrary. BUT - I think I can start to recognize individual good THINGS that I do. And instead of blowing them off, the plan is to hold onto them, feel good about them, admit that I did a good thing. Instead of racking up item upon item on my list of things I've screwed up today, I should keep a tally of the things I did right. And then hold on to that good feeling, relish it and keep it close.

So here are a few things I did right today:
- I made lunch when I didn't want to
- I held my ground with Kid-2 on a consequence
- I read a book with Kid-2 (it's called Sixth Grade Secrets by Louis Sachar and it's WEIRD!)
- I finished the Cub Scout Roundup flyer - and it came out GOOD!
- I took all 4 of my kids and 2 of their best friends to the movies with the SIL without having a panic attack! (I love my Xanax!)

WOW! Yay me! I rock the world!!!

(Oops, sarcastic deflection... I'll just leave it at 'Wow! Yay me!")

I Will Let You Down

Let You Down by Three Days Grace

Trust me
There’s no need to fear
Everyone’s here
Waiting for you to finally be one of us

Come down
You may be full of fear
But you’ll be safe here
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

I will let you down
I’ll let you down, I’ll
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

Trust me
I’ll be there when you need me
You’ll be safe here
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

I will let you down
I’ll let you down, I’ll
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

I will let you down
I’ll let you down, I’ll
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

Never want to come down
Never want to come down
Never want to come down

(Down, let you down)

I will let you down
I’ll let you down, I’ll
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

I will let you down
I’ll let you down, I’ll
When you finally trust me
Finally believe in me

I think this song was written about drugs. The whole "come down" thing sounds like drugs. But if I look at this in a "how does this relate to me" manner, it could just as easily mean mood. Because every time my mood seems to lift for a while, it comes crashing back down. And I never want to come down.

This song feels so much like me. It's like they've been watching my past behavior and know how I'm going to end up this time because that's how I end up every time.

Trust me, I'll be there when you need me. You'll be safe here. And when you finally trust me, finally believe in me... I will let you down.

I try so hard to do the things that need to be done, to be the person that others can turn to for help and when they need someone, to live up to the expectations of society, of family and friends, of myself. And I do alright for a while. And people start saying things like "It's great to see you smile." and "You've been doing so good lately." and "I'm so glad you're feeling better." But then I can't maintain it and just when people start to think they can trust me to be who I need to be, want to be... I let them down. I crash and I don't get something important done or I screw up something major. My mood comes back down and I let people down.

I don't want to fight any more. It feels really good when people tell me how good I'm doing and how they can see a change in me and all that stuff. But it's exhausting and confusing and uncomfortable. I think it just isn't worth it.

I don't want to learn to be angry. I don't want to learn to be confrontational. I don't want to learn to say no to people. I don't want to learn to make decisions based on what I want instead of what would be best for others or what others want.

I want to crawl back inside my shell. I like the role of peacemaker. I like doing things for others if there is any way I possibly can. I prefer to make my decisions based on what is expected of me. I understand that role. I know how to play that game. I don't want to learn all these other skills. I want to learn to be better at what I already do.

Don't teach me to get angry; teach me to get rid of the anger I have in a safe manner. Don't teach me to say no; teach me to be stronger so I can keep going. Don't tell me how others should be treating me better; tell me how to treat others better. Don't make me look at the past; show me how to keep it locked away.

It's too much. Time to pull back, retreat. It's taking more out of me than I have to give and if I keep pushing this, I'm going to fall. And if I fall, I will do it again: I will let you down.

Link to a Doctor Who mvid to Let You Down

What Is Anger?

The first definition from Dictionary.com that doesn't use anger or angry in its definition is "a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong; wrath; ire."

I thought at first that I don't feel anger. Then I realized that I actually feel it a lot. But mostly I feel it towards myself. When I feel it towards anyone else, I get very upset and back away from it by whatever means it takes. I don't do this on purpose and have only recently realized that is even what I'm doing. A sample conversation between two of the SV might look like this:

Voice 1: She had no right to call me an ungrateful brat!

Voice 2: Why not?

Voice 1: Because it's hurtful and not true.

Voice 2: Are you sure it isn't true?

Voice 1: Well...

Voice 2: Exactly.

Voice 1: Now wait! I'm not really like that. I am grateful!

Voice 2: Oh really? That's why you treat her like you do? That's why you do soooo much for her?

(Several other Voices jump in here to elaborate on how exactly I am ungrateful. A few might argue otherwise.)

Voice 1: I AM grateful, even if I don't act like it.

Voice 2: Well you don't act like it so you can't get mad at her for saying it. If you want to get mad at someone, get mad at yourself. You caused the mess in the first place.

Voice 1: (sulking now) Well, I'm still not a brat...

Voice 2: OH! Don't even get me started on that one!

Voice 1: Yeah, you're right. She just called a spade a spade and if I didn't like what she said, well, truth hurts, doesn't it?

And just like that, I'm not angry except at myself. So, how do other people get mad and stay mad and why don't I? And is this a good thing or a bad thing? Is anger ever good? Should I be angry?

Dark Side Cookies and Other Family Vocabulary

Dark Side Cookies - Kid-1 and Kid-2 were at the library. Before they came home, they were on the library computer and sent me a series of silly messages. One of these resulted in Kid-1 telling me to "be careful or I will go dark side on you!" to which I replied, "Come to the DARK SIDE - we have cookies!" Well, Kid-2 jumped on the bandwagon and asked if they could go to the grocery store in the same plaza as the library. "Why? What do you want from the grocery?" (I have issues with them hanging out in stores for no apparent reason.) DARK SIDE COOKIES! (oreos) Well, I busted out laughing (a true LOL). A short while later, they returned with Mint Oreos. So now we don't eat Oreos, we eat Dark Side Cookies.

Squirrels - This comes from the t-shirts that say, "I don't have ADD, it's just --- OH LOOK! A SQUIRREL!" It refers to when any of my kids (though most often Kid 1 and Kid-2) have blond moments or totally space out. It is most often in the context of warning people of the kids' mental state at the time. "He's in a good mood, but we're really fighting the squirrels today."

Click-Click - This is an inherited vocabulary word. It is used to describe a situation that should have been blatantly obvious but took the person a while to catch on. My parents have this bedside lamp, had it since they got married. After 17 years of marriage, my mom went to turn it on one night and turned the switch twice (click-click). At that point, the metaphorical light turned on as well. The lamp was a three-way light. It was supposed to have two brightness setting, if it had the right kind of bulb. Despite the click-click for 17 years, she had never made the connection. Click-click...

Male Time - I believe it is a universally known fact that guys cannot estimate how long something will take. It's kind of like the joke about why women cannot estimate lengths accurately. ("What do you expect? We've always been told that this {holding fingers two inches apart} this six inches!") The thing is, with almost every guy I know, not only is a guy's estimation of time to complete a project wrong, it is predictably wrong. And there is a formula for determining a much more accurate time frame. The formula for male time is Time Given By Guy times 2 plus 10 minutes.

Absolutely Not. - This is pretty much a Mommy-Thing. It must be said with a completely straight face when permission has been asked for something where it is nearly a given factor that the answer will be yes. It means, "You can do it but not until after you give me hugs and kisses." I suppose this isn't sending a very good life lesson message to the children. But it's fun and cute and they can tell when what I mean is "Give me hugs" as opposed to me telling them no. (Although sometimes they try giving me hugs and kisses to change my mind.) I justify it to myself that they are learning that sucking up does do good.

If I Were a Little More Paranoid

I would think that hb wonderful snuck into my head and figured out how to say what I have been unable to express or explain. If I were in a psychotic state, I might even believe that *I* am agent 5 and this post isn't from hb wonderful at all but is actually the secret communique it presents as. Of course, I'm not exceedingly paranoid at the moment, nor am I psychotic enough to allow myself to think that this is anything except a truly awesome post and an excellent example of examining things by looking at them in our peripheral vision instead of straight on. Here is the post:

Urgent Communique. Top Secret.

from: commander h.b. wonderful
to: agent 5
time: 15:53

agent 5, the battle isn't going very well in this side of the brain, I hope it's going better in your position. the mind in our position has become a mine field of unexploded ordinance lurking just under the surface biding time until the trap can be set off with spectacular destruction and disruption of brain waves and nerve endings. nerve endings that are already screaming out in torment but the destruction isn't fatal-- it's not meant to be. their aim is to maim and torture the nerves. cause as much pain and confusion as possible so that they can take sick pleasure from knowing that we'll kill ourselves to stop the torment. but not until they have twisted, bent and sucked the marrow out of us. as you know agent 5, they like to play with their food first. bat it around a bit and watch it squirm and cry out to no one in particular. no one seems to hear our screams agent 5. they have us trapped inside a state of the art, airtight, sound proof bunker deep in the heart of our blurry brain. no one is aware of the torture chamber that is just beyond the eyes. as you know by now i am not sending this message via the normal electronic nerve pulse mail because they have hacked into the mainframe enough to manipulate the facial expressions of James and words to make it seem like everything is normal to all our stations. thus don't believe anything said by the collective James. my commands will only arrive via my personal messenger, the one who gave you this communique. i tried to cry in one last feeble attempt at contacting the outside world to alert them of our suffering but, as you know, those ducts have been empty and dry for years. if only I could hack back into the mainframe enough to command our brain to swallow a hand grenade. of course this is exactly what they want us to do but i'm tired of fighting, i don't even remember what we're fighting for agent 5. stay tuned but i don't know when i'll be able to contact you again. i can't risk them detecting you and compromising your position on your side of James's battered brain. you are one of the last agents still out in the field. we need you to keep up the good fight but as you know, they never stop, they never tire. you'll hopefully hear from me shortly but for now, run. good luck.

-commander h.b. wonderful.

Thanks hb, for capturing the words I couldn't find.

What Makes a Good Patient Great?

Recently I've been thinking about doctor/patient relationships. A friend of mine is going back into counseling and was very disappointed to find out her previous counselor has retired. Another is facing uncertainty about her future with one of her doctors. My mother has left several doctors in a verbally abusive huff. Hubby could care less one way or the other about any of his doctors. I trust my Shrink more than I trust almost any other person on this planet.

On the flip side, I've been reading about doctors facing the good, the bad, and the ugly with favorite patients or sucking it up to deal with less than ideal ones. One is being encouraged to visit a favorite patient in hospice even though it blurs the boundaries in a way that hurts his heart. One story told of a doctor finding out that a beloved patient had committed suicide. A former doctor of mine wrote a book of anecdotes about his time practicing and he had many stories of well-loved patients, as well as some humorously spun tales of not so well-liked encounters.

On the average, I would guess that most people have one or two doctors if they are healthy and maybe as many as six or seven if they are really not. (I have five regular doctors.) So a doctor can hold an important role in a person's life. But doctors have hundreds of patients over the course of their careers. I don't know how many patients they would likely have at any given point but I can sure hell guarantee it's more than six or seven. So what is it that makes a patient stand out to a doctor? What makes a good patient a great patient in the eyes of a doctor?

I've personally known people who are frustrating patients for everyone involved with them, the kind of patient that the doctors must feel relieved when they go somewhere else. I do my best to be NOTHING like that. Here is what I do to try to make my doctors' jobs easier...

1. Patience: I don't have a problem waiting for a doctor. As far as I'm concerned, the majority of the time, they are late because they are working with other patients. I once waited over 8 hours to have my c-section because my OB was still in surgery. Turns out he was saving a life. Another woman had some rare and major complications and he and another doc were working on saving her life. (They were the talk of the maternity ward, let me tell you!) I don't have a problem waiting on my docs while they help other patients because I know they would (and have) done the same for me.

2. Trust: I trust my doctors to have my best interests at heart. And I make sure they can trust me to be honest with them. Communication is critical. If they don't know what is going on, they can't help. I keep my eyes open for problems, but overall, I let them do their jobs and I do mine.

3. Attitude: I place respect first and foremost when I deal with doctors. I don't overstep boundaries and I try not to be too demanding. To all of them but The Shrink, I put forth a positive attitude and never give up, offer jokes and smiles. I never give up hope and I always thank them for their help and display confidence that their suggestions, medications, treatments, whatever, are going to work optimally. I always assume they will work optimally too and don't give up on them not working unless the doctor decides to change course.

4. Commitment: I try to pay my bill as quickly as I can and if I can't, I let them know what is going on and how soon I can pay it. But above all, I do my absolute best to respect their time. I try very hard to be at every appointment on time. If I can't be there, I give as much notice as I possibly can. If I miss an appointment or have to cancel with less than 24 hours, I always ask how much the cancel fee is - and am willing to pay it - even when I know they won't charge me for it. I can't begin to express how annoyed I get at people I know who treat appointments as optional and neither show nor call and then don't seem to care.

So that's how I behave with and towards my doctors, trying to be a good patient so that they can be free to be a good doctor. And I'm guessing most of the patients that stick out in a good way to doctors do these things too, right? But that doesn't tell me what it is that they do above and beyond what good patients do in order to become a great patient in the eyes of the doctors. And I don't have any idea how to find out either. It's not like I could just ask one of them. Most doctors try not admit to having favorite patients in much the same way that teachers won't admit to having favorite students, especially to one who isn't a favorite. So I guess I'll keep doing what I'm doing and hope that, since I can't be a great patient, at least I won't be a dreaded patient.

You Have No Power Over Me (Okay, yeah you do...)

In my last post, I drew the (already known) conclusion that I give people a lot of power over me by caring so intensely about their opinions of me. Power has been a theme lately as I struggle to master control of myself and my thoughts and feelings. Sometimes I struggle with letting others control me. Mostly this is a struggle to convince myself not to let them when I'd much rather just go ahead and give them that power.

So I've been thinking about my tendency to do this, to hand over my power to others voluntarily, and about the way that I take that power back when confronted with a situation that I will not let stand. (Go ahead, mess with my kids and see who has the power then!!) The conclusion that I reached is that I don't give them power over me, I give them my power, which I have the ability to take back if I simply choose to do so. And I have done so, even to the people that I fear the most and have willingly given everything over to. I have stood up to Hubby when he hurts the children. I have put my mother in her place when she is out of control. I have gone up against the school system to get the services my children need. So it isn't that I am incapable of owning my personal power, it is that I am unwilling to do so.

The following are lyrics to the song that created itself inside my head:

All My Power
I am fragile as a flower,
til I show my power,
then I will not cower,
and you won’t know me at all.

If you think that you have beat me,
think you can defeat me,
well you don’t want to meet me
when my back’s against the wall.

I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.
I let you pick me up, put me down or walk all over me.
I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.
But I can take that power back and take control of me.

You can make me,
you can break me,
but you cannot take me
anywhere that I don’t wanna go.

You can lead me where you want
You can tell me what you want
You can hurt me if you want,
But all that power comes from me.

I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.
I let you pick me up, put me down or walk all over me.
I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.
But I can take that power back and take control of me.

(quieter)
But if that is my power,
Then why do I cower,
Fragile as a flower
And take whatever comes to me?

I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.
I let you pick me up, put me down or walk all over me.

I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.

I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.

I gave you all the power that you’re holding over me.....

Who Do You Think You Are???

Of course, it can be (and often is) argued that this is the one question we spend our entire lives trying to discover, change, rediscover, accept, and so forth. And I certainly don't have any answers or magical cures for finding oneself. Of all the selves that run about in my mind, I pick and choose who to listen to and how to behave and what to like and what not to like. Ultimately, I am a collection of all of them. And this is true for everyone; we are a compilation of all the various aspects of ourselves. It's just that some people are little more... "compartmentalized" than others. So my intention here is not to tell you about me, TheSV, in terms of what things I like or where my life sits at the moment or even what things I value. Frankly, those change constantly depending on the situation, the audience and the dominating Voice in my head at that given point in time.

My intention is more to discuss who other people think I am. I am not a very good judge of other people's actual perceptions of me as I tend to attribute all kinds of negative opinions to them that sometimes are not there and othertimes really are. If people never thought the things I suspect that they do, then I could more easily stop believing them, but the fact that sometimes those perceptions are accurate really throws me for a loop. I will try to specify between assumptions on my part and things that I have been specifically told.

People see me in different lights depending on how well and under what circumstances they know me. People who don't know me hardly at all except through limited contact with my kids tend to think I am confident, caring, attentive, dedicated and occasionally over-protective. These people tend to include school officials and teachers, classroom chaperones, the parents of the children's friends who are not specifically my friends, and medical personnel that care for my children. (This comes from what I have been told as well as the image I consciously try to portray.)

People that deal with me through my children regularly know that I am often disorganized and forgetful, but generous, well-meaning, and sincerely appreciative. (This is my own assessment backed by a comment Kid-3 made to The Shrink when asked to describe me.)

Once people start getting to know me as a person separate from my kids, I can only maintain that illusion for so long before the real me starts to leak through. My confidence slips and I no longer take charge and lead activities. I will participate in conversations but not initiate them. My stories seem to be a little superficial. (Not in a shallow personality type way but in a only show one side to an obviously multi-sided coin kind of way.) I sometimes seem sullen, shy, or immature in my refusal to engage or initiate contact. The people who see this side of me are the moms of some of the kids' closer friends, friends of friends with whom I am trying to socialize and most of my extended family. (Most of this assessment comes from my own perceptions backed up by Hubby's comments from time to time.)

Then there are the people who know me. This would be our group of friends, my immediate In-Laws, and most (though not all) of my Internet friends. These folks know that I've got issues. They know I struggle with depression that often makes me do stupid things, things they don't now (and never will) understand. Mostly I think they see me as dedicated to my children, compassionate, creative and intuitive, but self-indulgent and not willing to try hard enough to get things done. They know that my moods change from buoyant and engaging to quiet and antisocial. They see me running a household of 4 extremely active children (two of whom have clearly defined special needs) plus Hubby's schedule and all the household management logistics. But they know I am on SSDI because of my depression. They hear me talk in a positive, optimistic tone about the things going on in our lives, how crazy-busy but ultimately happy we are - and then they hear of my latest bad break. Sometimes they'll hear of the latest set of drama going on (Kid-2 to the ER, Kid-1 getting grounded, Hubby's hurt knee, etc) but then I will abruptly change the subject or throw a joke into it or completely laugh it off. They know I write and am on the computer constantly, juggling this, leading that, following this, researching that, and yet can't keep my house clean. I am a mass of contradictions that make no sense to people. I am a good person with some serious, deal-breaking flaws. I am loving but maddeningly frustrating. I am intensely high-maintenance and mostly not worth the effort it takes to deal with me. (This is what I see and what I have extrapolated based on what I hear these people say about others.)

And finally, there are those people who know me pretty damned well. This would be Hubby, and my Guardian Angel, and Baby-Mommy and The Shrink. There are several others who think they know me but really they fit more into the previous category. This last group of people know about my Voices, about parts of my past, about how I got to the place I'm at. They know that I put up a pretty good face to a lot of people and they also know that it is just a face, though I'm not sure how often they, too, believe the faces I put up. They know how much I care, passionately and intricately, about the people around me, though I feel I hurt them all the time. They have witnessed my double-standards and self-destructive behaviors and they have seen me stand tall and be strong. They know I'm trying, though often I'm not succeeding. I frustrate the hell out of these people. They try to tell me things that just seem so counter-intuitive. And I don't believe them. They make assumptions about me without knowing all the facts. So I don't believe them. They love me anyways, which I do believe and for which I feel deeply grateful but more than a bit guilty. They have hope for me even when I have none (which is more often than even they know, more often than not). (This is some of what I see and some of what I am told.)

But now that I've described who they think I am, the one question that is begging to be answered (aside from who I think I am) is why do I care what other people think of me? I don't have an easy answer for this. Because I do care, deeply and with an emotional investment that even I recognize as overboard.

I teach my children that when someone says or thinks something about them that they don't like, that they should ask themselves first if it is true. If it is not, the other person is wrong and they don't have to care what those people think. And if it is true, they still have decide if they care either about the other person's opinion or about the situation in question. Yet I don't follow the same advice. Because I do care. I base what I think of myself on what others think of me, or (more often) what I assume others think of me.

So...... who do I think I am? I think I am whoever I think you see me as.

Random Thoughts and Other Weird Stuff

***SPOILERS FOR DOCTOR WHO SEASON FOUR FINALE AT BOTTOM OF PAGE***

So following comment trails (Have you ever done that? It's awesome! Find all sorts of cool new people and blogs...) I found this blog and this entry. This clip is a trip!!



*** next thought ***

Kid-1, Kid-2, and Kid-3 are all at summer camp for the week. WOW! A whole week with them away... It's only been 8 hours and already it feels weird. Kid-4 and I have all sorts of plans for the week. We went to see Wall-E today, just the three of us. (It was all right, for a kid's movie. A little bit heavy-handed in the social commentary area and light in the any-way-in-hell-it-could-ever-maybe-in-any-way-shape-or-form-happen area... not much in it for thinking adults.) We will be going to the downtown library. And meeting the SIL for lunch, as well as the MIL at the park. It'll be cool spending time with just him. We don't get to do that very often. And next year, all four of them will be at camp, so we may not get to do it on this big of a scale again for quite some time.

*** next thought ***

Something is wrong with Hubby's knee. He fell on it over two weeks ago. It is still swollen, a gushy-squishy kind of swollen, and has a strange knot/chip/bump thing under the skin. I told him it's been enough time to heal if it was just a bad bump and it's time to go to the doctor. I'm a bit nervous about this. I'm worried that something serious is wrong. I don't want him to hurt. And it could be expensive. And he could have his activities restricted while it heals. I'm sure I'm over-reacting, but the thoughts still nag.

*** next thought (Doctor Who Spoilers) ***

OMG! Two doctors! Except one was the Doctor/Donna! Or rather, Donna was the Doctor/Donna. And Rose got her very own grow-old-with-you Doctor! So... are Mickey and Martha joining up with Torchwood? Who will the new companion be? I scoured the net and can't find any news releases yet. I read an article speculating between Georgia Moffett (the Doctor's daughter - in more way than one) and Felicity Jones (she was in The Unicorn and Wasp episode). I'm guessing either Georgia or someone entirely new. In a way I'd like to see it be Georgia, and not just cuz DT was dating her. On the other hand, it's a little corny. OMG! OMG! OMG! The Doctor-Donna! Arrrrggg!! Is it next season yet???

Click-Click

(*click-click is a family vocabulary phrase that is used to indicate someone was very slow to catch on to something obvious but did eventually get there)

A while ago, I was trying to understand the concept of projection. I get the whole Shadow concept. And I could see the classic example of projection where the man thinks the woman is having an affair because he himself either is (or would) have one himself. So I understand it academically, but I couldn't pull it from experience or really make much sense of it.

Well, I think I've got it. Now that the train thing is actually going to happen, I keep worrying that Hubby will find that the 6 week train school is Atlanta suits him, that he will like the time away from me and the kids and the responsibilities of our daily lives that even when he comes back, he won't want to come back to us. When I mentioned something to that effect to him, he laughed at me. He seemed to think it a ridiculous thing to even think, let alone be afraid of. But I couldn't shake the fear.

Tonight it suddenly clicked (click-click) as to a possible explanation for why I can't shake that totally irrational fear. I've thought about that before... how much simpler it might be if I lived a different life, one without a husband and kids and a mortgage and extended family. Because let's face it - my life is stressful! But when that thought creeps into my mind, I freak out. It gets beaten into submission immediately. What kind of horrible mother would even have that enter her mind?!?!?! I couldn't possibly think such a thing... (Not sure I could create a more clear-cut example of my Shadow...) So I pawn the thought off on Hubby, like it is his thought, not mine.

Recognizing this for what it is has helped dispel it, ironically enough. I can see that it isn't his potential future, it isn't his "secret wish" to not have to deal with me. It's mine, my secret longing. But just as I recognize that there is no threat of him doing that to us - I also recognize there isn't one of me doing it either. And thus the fear loses its power... (YAY ME!)

(Of course, it doesn't dispel the hideous guilt that raises its head upon realizing I have that buried urge. But guilt is there to tell us that something is wrong. That thought is wrong. So I can now banish that thought.)

"You have no power over me." (Labyrinth)

Maybe It's a Small World After All

I'm linking to this one because it's worth the extra step to view it in High Quality.

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008)

I saw this video three different places this week. The first time I saw it was less than two hours after I'd had a rather depressing discussion about wars and the state of the world and the conflicting and aggressive side of human nature. The email I got it from said that it brought the sender to the edge of tears. Well, sappy stuff rarely brings me to tears unless it involves little kids so I watched the video with skepticism. And at first I was unimpressed. But the more it went on, the more the scope of it sunk in. And by the end of it, I feel a little better about the world. Maybe it's not all doom and gloom, maybe there is a ray of hope, maybe it's a small world after all...... So check out Matt, check out his website, read the About Matt page and maybe feel a little better about the state of the world...

PS - Happy Birthday, America!

Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don't

I got into another fight with my mother last night. I am still reeling from it today. The steroids aren’t helping me too much with controlling my moods. She had an awful day (as she always does) and had been taking it out on the kids. Hubby said she had yelled so horribly at Kid-1 for opening a can of crushed pineapple instead of pineapple chunks that he went outside crying and when asked by his sister to come back in, replied, “Why should I bother coming in to help? I’ll just screw it up anyways.”

So, I’m standing there and she started screaming again because Kid-2 asked where something in the kitchen was. And I walked into the room and I lifted my finger and pointed at her and said, in the same tone I use on the kids when they are throwing a tantrum, “Enough. That is enough. You’re done.” And I turned my back on her and went to make sure the kids were okay. And things exploded from there. She stormed off to her room, swearing and slamming the whole way. Later, I went up to her and we got into it for real. She knows exactly how to hurt me to my core, to ruin me so bad that all I want to do is die. And so she did; she pulled out all the stops.

I have been trying to get a grip on it since then, a grip on myself and my emotions, on the overpowering guilt and despondency. I had my appointment with The Shrink this morning. And I told him about the fight.

Now, The Shrink has the habit of taking what I say and reflecting it back stripped of the emotion. And at one point he said, "So it’s okay for her to scream and yell and swear at everyone because she's trying and she gives you money?"

He also pointed out what she gained out of her tantrum last night. She got to blow her top, got two hours of my undivided attention, got a pity party thrown for her and got to walk away feeling like she wasn’t in the wrong in any way.

The Shrink keeps telling me that I need to stop feeding her tantrums, to stand up to her. He thinks that she will get mad but she will get over it and if she doesn’t... then he shrugs. What he doesn’t get is that whole "if she doesnt..." just ISN’T acceptable to me. And it’s a distinct possibility.

So my choices come down to:

A) trying to do my best to balance placating her and keeping her happy with trying to show her how she's not being effective - thus not having to cut her off but still having to deal with her shit....

Or B) cutting her off, hurting everyone, not being able to explain to my kids why their grandmother is behaving as she is, losing most of my (thus far pretty good) relationship with my dad, losing financial support (and thereby sinking pretty damned fast), losing my aunt (who is completely on my mother's side), and losing my mother - potentially for good.

Let’s explore how things could play out…

So, she is screaming at the kids over something trivial and pathetic and I step in and say, "Enough. That’s enough." And I turn my back on her and go to make sure the kids are okay and know this isn’t their fault.

She now stands up, so mad she is literally spitting, and stomps out the room swearing at and about me. She stomps up the steps and slams the door. (Yay us - she's gone!!) Twenty minutes later, dinner is ready.

Now comes the first choice - tell her or leave her...

No one else will go up to tell her so it would have to be me. If I choose to go up and tell her, she will swear at me in a way that cuts to the core. From there I can ignore it and walk away, or I can confront her about it.

If I confront her about it, she will throw everything she has at me. And, believe me, she knows EXACTLY where to hit me in order to crush my spirit. So now, I can try to calm her down or I can leave her upset.

If I calm her down, I’ve played into her hand (and walk away feeling like shit). If I leave her upset, we won’t see her again that night and no one has to deal with her that night. I can tell the kids that she is upset and not feeling well, that it isn’t their fault and we should continue without her. (end of night)

If, when she swears at me, I walk away, I leave her upset. (see previous scenario)

So, lets back up a little farther.... Say I refuse to go up and tell her dinner is ready. Daddy will be upset. (He'll get over it, though it will upset me A LOT.) And mom will become even angrier that we never bothered to tell her dinner was ready and just left her up there upset. She stays upset and the ‘we won’t see her again that night’ scenario plays out. (end of night)

So now we have left it one of two places....... I have placated mother and played right into her hand and left feeling like shit. Or I have left her upset and angry at me, vilifying me (with or without the added benefit of getting my dad mad at me too.) And I feel like shit.

Okay, for purposes of discussion, let’s end the ‘playing into her hand’ line and move on with the ‘mom pissed at the end of the night’ scenario...

Now, the next day, I have a choice. I can call her or not. (Because she WON’T call me.)

If I don’t call her, I don’t know whether or not she is stewing in her juices or has blown it off. But I don’t have to deal with her either way. (end of day)

If I do call her, she may have blown it off in which case the whole subject is put off until NEXT time she blows, which will, statistically speaking, be the next time we are over there. (end of day)

Or she may still be seriously pissed at me, in which case she will either refuse to speak to me or give me the ice-bitch treatment. Either way, I will end up extremely upset but won’t have to deal with her anymore that day. (end of day)

Alright, for purposes of this discussion, let’s declare the ‘put it off until next time’ option an end point and move on. Flash forward a week, until the next time we are scheduled to go over there. Now I have a few choices. I can call her to see if she's calmed down yet. If she's being civil and polite and everything, we can try again. Now we are back to the ‘wait until next time’ scenario.

If I call her and she hasn’t calmed down, I can try to placate her at that point. Now I have played into her hand again AND given myself a week of emotional hell.

If I call her and she hasn’t calmed down and I decide to call off the day, I have to explain it to the kids. I can tell them she is still not in the mood for company and reassure them that it isn’t their fault. The kids won’t get their allowance for the week. I won’t get the money for my appointment with The Shrink for the week. I won’t get to do lunch with my dad. AND... I feel like shit.

But hey, it’s just one week, right? She should get the point, right?

Except that, with Mom, it could go either way as to how long this will last. And what do I tell the kids the second week? Or the third? How will I pay for the kids’ allowances and my doctor appointments? And I don’t get to do lunch with my dad, which sucks.

What about after a month? Now I've missed one or two grocery shopping trips. She'll have to get her own groceries, which she'll learn to adjust, but that’s money that we don’t have budgeted and don’t have available. PLUS, the kids’ activity fees are now due; how do I pay for those?

By the way, by this point, she will have commiserated with my aunt, who will have called to bitch me out and tell me how horrible I am at LEAST once. And most of my contact with my dad will be cut off because she'll go ballistic on him if I try to get together with him and he won’t do the conflict of it.

Oh yeah, one more thing - if you think I am being pessimistic or melodramatic, I'm not. Because it’s happened already, every one of these scenarios. I think I made it a month before I caved, rolled over and played dead, groveled and begged until she would speak to me again. Then it took another six weeks to two months to get her to be beyond barely civil. And this isn’t even addressing the repercussions on HER physical and mental health, which I have left out because The Shrink says this is "her problem" and not mine, like those don’t impact me.

The fact is that cutting her off means losing a HUGE number of things for me? And that ‘cutting her off’ is just one time, cutting her off in mid-tantrum. I keep telling people that I'm a taker, a user and a leech. They don’t believe me. I've told them that I am spoiled and selfish and they don’t believe me. But it’s like The Shrink said, I let it be okay for her to scream and be awful to us because she trying not to and because she gives me money. And the consequences of standing up to her are so severe that, because I am as awful as I am, I'm not sure that I'm willing to take them.

My Guardian Angel asked me if I’ve ever talked to Daddy about her actions and their effects on the kids. And we have talked about it a little (little little!) bit before. Then, last night, I tried to get HIM to go up and tell her dinner was ready. He refused and said I had to be the one to make up with her. I told him that I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting him hurt the kids like that, hurt me like that. He said he couldn’t/wouldn’t make up for me and that I had to go make it right with her. (Those were his exact words - I had to go make it right with her.)
So I went. And I tried. And I came down at one point to get her a drink and her cigarettes and Daddy gave me a look that asked how it was going. I glared at him. When I came down at the end, he asked if I was okay. I told him that I had her calmed down and she would be okay. He asked if I was okay. I shot him an evil look, then forced a smile and said I was just peachy, half-sarcastic.
And it really kinda hit home that he's never really protected me. But I don’t ever remember him being so explicit in saying it is my job to make things right with her. Or maybe I just wouldn’t hear it for what it was.

I love my father with all my heart. I've spent my entire life trying to make him proud of me or at least not be such a disappointment to him. And I guess it never really sunk in just how much he put me into the thick of it. “Fed me to the wolves” is the term that comes to mind. And I feel hurt. I feel like I was worth so little, that I was so horrible, that I must have deserved to be put in that position. I feel sad and hopeless. There's no anger in it, or resentment, or anything of the like, though from the reactions of my Guardian Angel and The Shrink, maybe there should be.

But I don’t know how to force those kinds of emotions. And I don’t know how handle any of this. All I want to do is hide. Since I’m not allowed to die, I just want to hide.