Wednesday, February 27, 2008

I'm Not Posting

It seems it has been forever since I posted an entry and the last one I posted wasn't finished. I'm not really sure why this is as generally I find it very helpful to unload here. In fact, though, I'm not really sure what my problem is in general. I have been going to farther lengths than usual to shut people out - including myself. I spent 30 of my 45 minutes of therapy this morning discussing cooking accidents with my shrink to avoid speaking of anything meaningful. (It didn't work. He cornered me eventually with: "Are we talking about this to avoid something else?" Gee, doc - ya think? LOL) But I did find out that at one time he was as dangerous in the kitchen as I am. He has exploded a ham - I think that takes special training! And he even caught the house on fire to the point of calling the fire department. I am somewhat pacified that he is not entirely perfect, though not completely because this was a minimum of 8 years ago.

I suppose I should give a status report, since it has been so long...

Mother is still not voluntarily speaking to me, although when I totally freaked out of Hubby Saturday night, he called her and she talked me down. I miss my Mom, my friend. Apparently there is not only no chance of reconciliation between her and Baby-Mommy, she is doing everything in her power to make a vicious point of this. As for her and I... well, friends fight. They say horrid things to each other then they apologize, make up and keep being friends. I have apologized. I have sucked up. I have grovelled. I have ignored. And still she won't make up. I am beginning to think things will never be the same between us, all because I love my temper so badly ONE TIME. (And people wonder why I am so adamant about not expressing anger, let alone losing my temper...)

In the world of Baby and Baby-Mommy, Baby-Mommy's man finally found a job. He will be working 40+ hours a week and this is great for him and for Baby-Mommy but it put me in an awkward position. I simply cannot watch Baby 45+ hours a week - I CAN'T do it. If I could do that, I could get a job and we wouldn't be in this financial disaster. SO....... I told Baby-Mommy that. I have to have my Wednesdays off - they are booked solid with scheduled appointments/activities. And I have to have another day off too. So, Baby will go to day-care 2 days a week: Wednesdays and Thursdays. I feel just awful about sending her to daycare but I CAN'T kill myself over this schedule and I am already so close to the FUCK-IT! point that I don't dare try to push too hard. Yay me for standing up for myself!

As for my own children... Kid-2 and Kid-3 are grounded beyond anything they have ever experienced. They got involved in a game of "Dares" (Truth or Dare without the Truth option) that became unbelievably inappropriate. I can't put it down here - it's too upsetting to me, even though I have been told by both my guardian angel and my shrink that this is "normal" kid behavior. Whatever. Every time I talk about it, I freak out. The shrink was not overly impressed that I checked out on him this morning. He wasn't surprised, just not impressed. Surprisingly enough, he kept me partially grounded by reminding me of the image of him exploding hams and catching kitchens on fire. Needless to say, the kids are grounded.

I did a major thing with my writing. I wrote a "short" story about the birth of Ginny. It ended up 11528 words long!! It is a truly crappy story but I WROTE IT! I was quite proud to have gotten it down. I think I may burn it. Maybe that will make it go away... In other writing news, I am supposed to be writing a story for the "February Challenge" and I am failing miserably at it. It is "due" by Friday and I have written probably 1000 words but deleted every single one of them. I am on my 4th story idea and I honestly wonder if I will get it done. Some moderator I am...

I am wandering back into the "if I tell myself nothing happened, then nothing happened" style of coping with the things mulling about my head. Of all the things I've tried over the years, I still think it has been the most effective. I know that my guardian angel and my shrink both don't like this method, but it seems to hurt the least. I can't quite get people to understand that I DON'T LIKE PAIN. If there is a way to avoid it, I WANT TO AVOID IT. I don't want to think about my trigger words and the things that make them upsetting to me. Therefore, I officially declare: I AM FINE. Whatever happened in the past is in the past and I refuse to give it any more time, thought or energy. If I don't think about it, it can't hurt me. I am who I am now, not who I was at any time before now. The past has no power over me. So whatever may or may not have been there DOESN'T MATTER.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

"Whatever!" aka WWIII

Enough is enough and I have (finally) had enough. I give up. If Mother wants to be mad, she can do it alone. I'm done with the eggshells and tiptoeing and groveling. I can only go so far before she has to meet me on the way. I don't have to let her hurt me, to let her psych me into hurting myself..

Oops. I guess I ought to put in some backstory here. *cue flashback music*

Okay, a few weeks ago, Baby-Mommy finalized plans for her apartment. They were due to move out the last week of February. Mother cried at the news and cried everytime she thought about it for the next week. Everyone knew it was for the best, it was a necessary step, but Mother still felt abandonned and like Baby-Mommy wouldn't want to be around her if she didn't need her to support her and her daughter.

Now bear in mind that Mother quit taking all her psych meds some months ago. And she has chronic poor-baby syndrome (that is, she is always sick or injured, a manifestation of her mind but real nonetheless). Her current thing is a lack of sleep. She can't get to sleep and she can't stay asleep and as a result she is tired and grumpy and over-sensitive anyways. (More on chronic poor-baby syndrome - and my own affliction with it - later.)

So the weekend following Mother's week of mourning, she goes around slamming things and not speaking to people and stomping and generally being "in a mood". Well, Baby-Mommy has somehow managed to never encounter a prolonged Mom-Mood and tends to be totally clueless about others in general so she had absolutely no clue as to wtf was happening. In speaking to Daddy, her trigger this time was Baby-Mommy's alarm clock. She had her man-du-jour overnight and, as Mother won't allow them in her room, they stayed downstairs. But Baby-Mommy neglected to turn off her alarm clock and it woke up Mother. (Remember she is already suffering horribly from insomnia.) She became infuriated and expressed it by going into a mood - all weekend.

In fact, the mood didn't go away. Tension became tangible, even over the phone. On Tuesday morning, Baby-Mommy called me from her cell phone first thing. She had an epiphany about her man-du-jour and wanted my opinion. We talked for 10 or 15 minutes then hung up.

This story is nowhere near complete. And it is important. But life keeps rushing by and other things keep happening. So I am going to move on and come back to this if and when I get a chance.

Monday, February 4, 2008

More Notes on Writing

I am temporarily stalled on my novel. I picked up the new Stephen King book, "Duma Key" and not only is it very good, it has sent me back into my typical SK funk. I read some of his descriptions and look at the way he repeats the same events for effect and I am awed by him. I realize I can never come anywhere close to that and I stop writing for a while. I'll get back to it, but probably not while I'm reading the book.

On the other hand, I am currently tackling a rather difficult short story. I think I am afraid of it. It is supposed to be about a little girl going on a ride in a semi truck with her favorite uncle. Sounds simple enough, right? Except I know what the story is really about. I am well over 1500 words into the story and he hasn't even asked her if she wants to go yet. I honestly can't tell if I am dragging my feel on getting to the story because I'm frightened of it or if, like I am telling myself, I am trying to give enough backstory to make the little girl's behavior make sense. At any rate, this is going to need a chainsaw for the rewrite.

And I am still terrified of the details of the story. Unfortunately, I know how the story goes, all the pictures and the sounds and even the smells. But I don't like them and this is going to be no easy task. I may end up skipping the details. They wouldn't make for a good read anyways... right?

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Random Thoughts

I have scars. I have ones that you can see and that don't bother me a bit, like the 4 inch lines on my shins from knee surgeries. And I have ones you can see that I do my best to hide, like the large scary-looking one on my left arm. Then there are the ones that you can't see unless somehow you stumble across them AND know my reactions well enough to know you've hit on something, like my trigger words where I will suddenly look away and frequently lose track of the conversation for a minute. In time, some of these scars will fade. Some won't. I wonder if there is a way to encourage them to no longer bother me...

I have lost 30-35 pounds since last spring. This is a major accomplishment for me. Not only have I lost weight, I have gained muscle and regained a little bit of my shape. I wore a size 22-24 pants last Mother's Day. Last week I bought a pair of size 16 jeans and didn't have any trouble wearing them at all. My goal is to get down to 135 pounds. I still have a long ways to go. Even at 135 pounds, I will still be fat, but at least not disgustingly so.

I have been watching the new HBO series In Treatment about a psychotherapist, Paul, 5 of his patients and his own shrink. So far, I am intensely interested. The characters are a bit stereotypical and slightly over played but I love the nuances of it. I also love watching Paul venting to his own therapist and wondering how realistic it is. Little pieces of each of the characters ring true for me, except possibly Alex who has a little too much self-confidence for me to entirely empathize with. Some of the questions I asked myself watching the 5 episodes: does "erotic transference" really happen that often? (from Day 1, Laura) Does the cryo-thing with Alex really exist? Don't you have to have parental consent to treat a minor? (from Day 3: Sophie) Did he really think Jake and Amy should have an, yeah... or was he just trying to shock them into thinking rationally? (from Day 4: Jake and Amy) Are shrinks really as messed up as everyone else? Aren't they supposed to be the ones who have it all figured out, even if they've been through hell, aren't they the ones who came out the other side? (from the intro to Day 3, and parts of Day 5: Paul) And the one that made me cringe: Paul said, "If patients really knew what I thought, they would run for the hills." One other note: Gabriel Byrne, despite his age, can be quite sexy and i LOVE the Irish brogue that slips through. WOW... *wink*

Did you notice, when I was putting out the questions from that show, that I obviously stuck around for Day 3: Jake and Amy despite the topic being exceedingly uncomfortable? I was very grateful to be watching it alone and I missed part of it, but kept watching. I am proud of myself. *grin*

I am also getting pretty close to some memories that I have been avoiding for a very VERY long time. This is not very fun. I am up to 1400 words and I haven't even gotten to the meat of it. I am terrified of the meat of the story. How much detail should I put into this? How much detail am I ABLE to put into this? Can I write this story without vomitting?

Ugh. Meds kicking in...

Th-th-th-tha-tha-that's all folks!