Neighbor-Guy Makes Me Happy

The Neighbor-Guy that lives to the left of us is a retired schoolteacher. He lives alone in his neat little ranch house. His lawn is always well kept and his driveway always shoveled. He is a very nice man, pleasant to talk to and always ready with a smile and a kind word. He's a good neighbor, keeping an eye out for people and property without going too far over the line into busy-body.

But the thing that makes Neighbor-Guy stand out, the thing about him that makes me happy, is how wonderful he is with the neighbor kids, mine included. His yard is large and unfenced and, combined with our front yard, makes a great football field or baseball diamond. His driveway is smoother than ours which makes it better for roller-blading and skateboarding. And he welcomes them playing there. He is also well-known for coming out and playing ball with the kids, especially baseball. He's truly great with them: patient, encouraging, enthusiastic, good listener, good mediator, great referee. He sticks to the rules and expects the kids to behave appropriately but is rarely ever cross with them and never yells or loses his temper. If he sees something upsetting, he is not above letting the parents in on it, but he's not a tattletale.

To be honest, those qualities I just described exhibited in a neighbor with no kids of his own and no relation to the kids he is around....? Well, they make you think twice. While it is true that many adults truly enjoy kids and like to be around them to a point, there is also the neon sign flashing its warning about sexual predators, especially regarding single guys, living alone, with a strong interest in the neighborhood kids. In fact, the one time I mentioned Neighbor-Guy to The Shrink, he got really edgy. Now, I have to factor in that The Shrink has a predisposition towards suspicions of that nature. I know and understand where he comes by that and I'm not saying he's right or wrong, just that I prefer to analyze the situation and draw my own conclusions from it. Which I did with Neighbor-Guy.

Here are my reasons for NOT worrying about Neighbor-Guy:

1) Supervision - This is the biggest and most heavily weighted factor on my list. Neighbor-Guy has a very strict policy on being alone with the kids, any of them. His policy is that it doesn't happen, period. The kids are not permitted inside his house without an accompanying parent. (And I've only seen this happen once.) He doesn't take them places. He doesn't come over and babysit. When he plays with the kids, it is outside, in full view of the entire neighborhood. He makes a clear point of never setting up a situation where any suspicion could be cast. There is, literally, no opportunity for anything inappropriate to happen. Even without any of the rest of this list, this factor instills trust in me for him regarding treatment of my kids.

2) Past history - Neighbor-Guy is a retired schoolteacher. He taught basically forever and retired on great terms. My SIL is familiar with him from his teaching days and while she didn't know him personally, she reports nothing negative or suspicious has ever been mentioned or implied from when he was teaching. His having been a teacher shows a clear pattern of being interested in kids - he likes them. So it makes sense that he still enjoys being around them. Retiring from a job doesn't mean losing interest in what was appealing about it.

3) Balance - Neighbor-Guy doesn't revolve himself or his life or activities around the kids in the neighborhood. If they are out playing and he has time, he might join in. This is usually when he gets home from somewhere and before he goes inside. He doesn't spend excessive amounts of time with them - an hour, sometimes more, frequently less. He doesn't seek them out - it's not like he comes over and asks if they want to play. In 9 years, he has come over twice to inquire about a kid doing something. (Once was to get Kid-1 to rake leaves with him - our leaves blow into his yard all the time, so he proposed that he and Kid-1 together rake both yards. They were outside the entire time. The other time was have anyone who was interested help him reseed the front yard - because the kids had torn it up during a rough game of football in squishy weather. Again, they were outside the entire time.)

4) Physical boundaries - Neighbor-Guy isn't a touchy-feely kind of guy. He doesn't hug the kids or make much physical contact at all while they play. He doesn't necessarily avoid touching - he once showed one of the kids how to follow through throwing a baseball by moving his arm through the arc and he will help the littlest ones bat by batting "with" them. But he doesn't go in for hugs or chest bumps or pick them up or anything. He maintains his personal physical space and expects them to do the same. He sets very appropriate personal boundaries.

5) Instinct - I allow this one to be overridden when evidence suggests I am overly trusting. In general, though, I have pretty good instincts about whether someone can be trusted with my kids. My gut will send me warning signals. I never ignore them. But my instincts on Neighbor-Guy lean towards trust. I feel happy about his involvement with the neighborhood kids. I feel good that they have him as a role model for involvement while demonstrating good boundaries.

So... Neighbor-Guy makes me happy. I like the way he plays with the kids. I like how he teaches them and encourages them and enjoys them and is interested in their well-being while still maintaining an appropriate distance. He's a genuinely good guy - he helps restore my faith in humanity.

For Better or Worse

I have a feeling this post is going to be rambling. I haven't updated in a while and have some scattered thoughts to get down.

For Better: I have noticed a substantial difference since starting the Concerta. I feel much better able to problem solve and think logically. I don't feel as confused and overwhelmed by multiple details co-existing. Large tasks aren't as likely to send me into a crying jag or panic attack. BFF has commented several times on my apparent increase in follow-through and motivation. This is because I did up our budget and reworked the chore chart. I also pulled back out the Medicaid paperwork and double-checked the requirements. I'm not sure my doing these things can be attributed to increased performance from the medication as there were natural catalysts to propel me to do these things and think I would have done them regardless. But I do think it was easier to do them because I could better pay attention to the details and think more clearly.

For Worse: I seem to be stuck in this cycle of alternating between irritable and apathetic. Most things don't phase me (up or down), even things that previously elicited an emotional response from me. At the same time, I find myself easily irritated by little things. I have little patience with Kid-5 these days; instead of laughing at her quirks, they annoy me. I am having to bite my tongue all the time with BFF and she isn't even doing anything really. For no apparent reason, I just feel constantly put upon by everyone and everything. It's not like the demands on my time and energy have changed at all so I'm sure how to explain the shift in attitude and I certainly don't know what to do about it.

Valentine's Day: I hate surprises, as I say a lot. I crave predictability to the point of precognition. Since precognition is a bit beyond my grasp, I go into this pattern of mentally evaluating every possible outcome, situation and/or choice that may occur in order to have a response prepared. When I know something is coming that I can't predict, such as the impending V-Day gift from Hubby, I get nervous. The number of possibilities to sift through in my mind becomes exponential and I get bogged down in generating responses for them. I know this isn't logical and certainly isn't efficient but I don't know how else to alleviate the fear generated by the situation.

I discussed this with The Shrink last Wednesday, specifically in regards to Valentine's Day. Once again, The Shrink showed his disapproval of Hubby. I told him that Hubby doesn't do romance and I don't do surprises and described how I stopped expecting romance in any form from him because he simply isn't capable of it and also how it is nearly impossible to surprise me. The Shrink claimed that he would be able to surprise me, which I denied. He persisted, going so far as to claim that he would be able to surprise me 12 times in the next 3 months - which is basically every session. I told him there's no way he could pull it off even once. I confess to making it sound like a challenge, mostly because he got my curiosity piqued by that point. I have been with The Shrink for 3 years and he is not the "blank slate" kind of therapist - his reactions are honest and genuine. I'm pretty sure I know where he stands on everything pertaining to me. I can't imagine anything he could do or say and still stay true to himself and he is not the kind of person that would deliberately be untrue to himself. So I'm nervous and curious to see what happens Wednesday. I've been running scenarios in my mind ever since, everything I can think of whether it makes sense or not, and have not come up with anything that he could do to surprise me. I will be glad come Wednesday when he has forgotten about it and the session comes and goes without incident. (This, btw, is by far the mostly likely outcome.) Then I can relax and not worry about him continuing to try in future sessions.

But - once the playful challenging was over, he did help me find a mindset that allowed me to relax (mostly) regarding Hubby's V-Day gift. He had me examine the intention behind the gift. What does Hubby mean by giving me this present? Why is he doing it? Well, the answer is to show his love for me and to make me feel good. So The Shrink told me to approach the gift - regardless of what it tangibly is - as a token of that intent. No matter if it is the best gift in the universe or something horrible and downright offensive, the gift that Hubby is giving me is a token of how much he loves me and a tangible representation of his desire to make me happy.

I can't believe how much that helped! The two things that bother me about gifts, most especially surprise gifts, is not knowing the intention behind the gift (and, directly related to that, what is expected of me in return) and the fear of reacting the "wrong" way to the gift. In this case, I know the intention and the resulting expectation so I am already prepped for that. And viewing the gift itself as merely a symbol allows me to react to the intention rather than the tangible aspect of it.

I can apply that to any gift! It is a much shorter list to evaluate the possible motives for a gift than all the things that gift could tangibly be. And the leap from motive to consequences is relatively short. This will also help with coaching myself on reactions to known gifts of less than optimum desirability. VERY helpful...

The Gift Itself: Not only did I get to sleep in until *I* wanted to get up, I woke up to a dozen, long-stemmed, red roses on the pillow next to me. Awwwww! That evening we went out to dinner (Logan's - yum!) and a movie (Confessions of a Shopoholic - meh). But the actual gift was.... (drumroll) A DIAMOND RING! While we were waiting for dinner seating, I sent him back into the restaurant to get a pager. (They were out of them when we put our names down.) When he reached into his pocket to give me the pager, he brought out a ring box and handed them both to me. Inside the box was my wedding ring. I haven't been able to wear it months and months because it needed repaired. He had taken it and gotten it repaired for me. YAY!! (I love my ring and missed it terribly!)

Missing Muse: I still am not writing. Occasionally I will mess about with my novel or scribble part of a short story but for the most part, the desire to write simply is not here. It's not like I don't have the time. I do. I just don't WANT to write.

Unspeakable Fear

I don't mean the kind of fear that leaves you powerless to speak, move, breathe, think, EXIST... I mean the kind you literally can't speak of. Even if everyone is thinking it, no one would dare actually say it. Like when you go to the doctor with a lump and can't bear to ask the obvious question of whether or not it's cancer.

Low rolling nausea - 5 days so far, no other symptoms, not a med side-effect, unprotected sex a week and a half ago... please God, no. Please...?

My head knows I'm not. A million things could be causing this. But Fear keeps whispering in my ear. If it continues, I will test. I know it will be negative. But I can't deny the very slim possibility. God wouldn't be that cruel - right? RIGHT???

(Update 2/10/09 10 AM: All is fine according to the pee stick. No clue why the nausea. Going to ignore it.)

Tough Choices in Life

Life is all about choices. Big choices, small choices, choices we gruel over and those we barely realize we've made. Our choices reflect who we are and where we've been, not just the options presented. They affect who we become and the future choices we make. There is always a choice in life and I can think of no exception. Oftentimes, we cannot choose what happens to us but we always have the choice of how we react to it, internally at least and usually externally.

That said, choices are quite often not simple matters of stating a preference and acting on it. Options may be equally appealing (chocolate cake or an ice cream sundae?) - or equally horrifying (let a loved one live as a vegetable or turn off life support?).

We each create a checklist, a set of parameters by which we make our decisions. Everyone's checklist is different. It is generated by experience - we learn to make choices by making choices. If our decision-making skills are guided and encouraged and we experience reasonable results (rewards or consequences in a degree that is consistent with the weight of the choice), we learn to make choices that are effective and healthy. If we are not exposed to making decisions or if the results of those choices are corrupted against us (too weak, too strong, not connected, not predictable) we learn to distrust our own decision-making capabilities. We may come up with a set of parameters that rely on external input (what does that person want me to choose?) rather than internal (which choice meets my needs?). We may even be conditioned to believe that is the way decision-making should be approached. Stripped of an internal barometer, we are subject to the whims of circumstances and lose much of our personal power.

If our power to choose did not develop into healthy patterns as children, we will carry those patterns with us until we do something to change them. The key here is that we can change them. The ability to make choices is a learned process, developed and strengthened through practice and repetition. We can relearn that process - create a different set of parameters - and through that same process of practice and repetition, change the ways we make our decisions and therefore the choices we make. Given time and practice, the new way will become comfortable, it will become habit.

(Analysis over - I find it easier to introduce an emotionally volatile subject with a factual assessment of where my head is on the topic. Here comes the "hard" part...)

I have severe difficulties with the issues of choice. Making decisions poses a threat to me, it triggers my fight or flight responses. Ironically, the smaller and less apparently meaningful the choice, the more difficult I find it to make. When it comes to larger issues, I can generally work through them and come to a reasonable conclusion. But ask me what I want to eat or what I want to watch on television or where I want to go on a date and I will freeze up. I will use every available tool in my arsenal to determine what response would most please the person asking and that will carry the biggest weight in my slow, eventual decision-making process on these seemingly trivial subjects.

I find this to be a problem in my life. It causes me considerable anxiety on a daily basis and extreme anxiety in social situations. For example, when going out to eat with friends, I find myself agonizing over what I am going to order off the menu from the moment I learn of or make the plans, even if that is weeks prior to the event. I make lists of things that I like from the menu and put them into categories for easier elimination based on the behavior and choices of those around me. I try to remember what kinds of things the people I am going with like to eat so I can order something similar. I think about how much things cost so I can order something around the same amount. I try to think of something from each category on the menu from appetizers to desserts so that I can be ready no matter type of food the others are ordering. I will go around and around with this until the moment arrives and we are all sitting around and ordering. My heart feels like it is going to explode and my head has been invaded by a hive of angry bees. I try to find out what the others are ordering and then I narrow things down based on that. Heaven forbid if there aren't enough criteria to base my decision on!

As per my custom, when things bother me, I try to figure out why. If I can figure out where something originated, I can better see whether this is a valid pattern to continue or not and replace outdated facts and models and coping mechanisms with ones that are more suited to my current circumstances. (Easier said than done most times.)

(deep breath)

Every time I hear the word "choice" these days, my mind goes to one place; I hear one voice in my head, offering me a choice and one voice answering. I have read a lot recently about victims of childhood sexual abuse. (Wow - that took over two hours to write that phrase!) One thing that I have read over and over from the professional point of view is that a child cannot be held responsible for an adult engaging in that kind of behavior with them. They emphasize the child's lack of ability to fight back. They talk about abusers creating a psychological atmosphere that make it impossible for the victims to effectively say, "Stop" and have it be taken seriously. There are threats and insinuation, emotional blackmail. Things like "Tell me if you want me to stop" seem to be common "choices" that these kids were presented. And they were too afraid to say stop and too afraid and too ashamed to tell.

But that isn't how it was for me. The default choice wasn't compliance. The default choice was the way out. He gave me a choice, over and over. Did I want to do those things with Him or did I want to go wake up my parents right then and there and tell them what we had been doing together, tell them everything - all the lies, all the gifts, all the games, and all the payment He received in return - and see who they got mad at? It was my decision every time. I had to say, out loud, what my choice was. Did I want to do what He wanted (by the name of whichever act - or rather the name He gave that act - that He wanted at the time) or did I want to go wake my parents and never have to do those things again? If I refused to answer, He would tell me that if I woke parents up, how angry they would be at both of us and how I would never see Him again. But, He said, if I didn't answer, He would assume that was my choice and together we go wake them up. He wouldn't touch me if that's not what I wanted so I had to ask for it, literally ask for it.

All I had to do was not answer Him if I wasn't strong enough to go tell my parents. But I made my choice. I CHOSE to be with Him. I told Him I wanted to do what He was asking. And most times after being given that choice, I then had to initiate the action myself. It's not like I was scared into passively allowing those things to happen. I - quite literally, and knowing full well that I had the option of never having to do those things again - asked for it and went after it.

So when the books say that those victims didn't have the choice that their abusers wanted them to believe they had, that they didn't actually make a choice by simply remaining quiet, what I hear is my own voice asking for what happened to me. Whenever I hear someone say that it is never the fault of the child because they didn't have the power to stop the person from doing that to them, I remember that all I had to do was not do it, and I chose otherwise.

No, it wasn't the fault of those kids. They didn't have a choice. They weren't strong enough to stop it from happening. But that isn't what happened to me. I did have a choice. And I was too selfish and spoiled to make the right choice. I didn't want to lose Him and so I chose to do those things to Him instead of risk losing Him. I chose to Pay the Piper. My choice, my actions, my mistakes.

And now I despise making decisions, especially when someone asks me a direct solicitation of my opinion. Because I make bad choices. I do bad things. I want the wrong things. I can't trust myself to want what is right. Sometimes either choice is horrific but one is clearly correct. If you choose wrongly, there is too blame and with it comes the shame. Heavy, like a wet, velvet blanket, smothering me in darkness that is cold and wet and paralyzing.

Life is all about choices. And I am quite practiced at making the wrong ones.

Current Themesong: Fake It by Seether

My theme song changes as I change and grow, as circumstances change, as time goes on. I'm sure it would be interesting to go back and look at my self-reported theme songs to chart my progress but I'm not in the mood right now. Maybe later. In the meantime, here is the current theme:

Fake It by Seether

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all
The one you sold to fool the world
You lost your self-esteem along the way
Yeah

[Chorus:]
Good god you're coming up with reasons
Good god you're dragging it out
Good god it's the changing of the seasons
I feel so raped
So follow me down
And just fake it if you're out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like affection
Woah you're such a fucking hypocrite

And you should know that the lies won't hide your flaws
No sense in hiding all of yours
You gave up on your dreams along the way
Yeah

[Chorus]

Whoah
Whoah

I can fake with the best of anyone
I can fake with the best of em all
I can fake with the best of anyone
I can fake it all

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all
The one you sold to fool the world
You lost your self-esteem along the way
Yeah

[Chorus]

Fake it if you're out of direction
Fake it if you don't belong here
Fake it if you feel like infection
Woah you're such a fucking hypocrite

This song replaces Let You Down by Three Days Grace. Whereas that one expressed the firm conviction and fear that no matter how hard I try, I will always end up letting everyone down, this song reflects my attitude and bearing towards the world. The song is all about the "fake it til you make it" advice that is rampant and the pressure I feel from the world to be fine and okay and doing well regardless of how things really are.

Who's to know if your soul will fade at all - the one you sold to fool the world? How much of myself have I given up to make the world feel more comfortable looking at me? They want me to be a certain way and I do my best to give that to them. But how much of what is me have I sacrificed?

You lost your self-esteem along the way By this time, I have indeed lost all self-confidence in my own ability to judge who I should be and what should I do and what I should want. All I know is that what I feel is not socially acceptable and therefore must be adapted, changed, on the surface if nothing else.

Good god you're coming up with reasons, good god you're dragging it out That seems to be my MO these days if I have to deal with people at all. I try to come up with any way possible to avoid it and if I can't avoid it, I stall as long as possible before doing it.

Good god it's the changing of the seasons, I feel so raped rank, so follow me down (I can't stand that word and besides it sounds like he says "rank" - as in stinky and yuck) It's like everything around me is changing or supposed to be changing and I just feel stupid and out of place and pressured to change like they want me to. It's like I'm dragging myself under and taking others with me.

And just fake it if you're out of direction, fake it if you don't belong here. Fake it if you feel like affection I never seem to know what I am supposed to be doing. I feel out of place and awkward and like a zit on the face of the head cheerleader. But I don't want people to think less of me - I crave their approval and their affection. So I fake it. I put on a face and I try to do what they want me to, what they expect me to.

You're such a fucking hypocrite I go on and on about not lying and telling the truth. I take such "pride" in not lying. I preach to my kids about having the self-esteem to be who they are and love themselves for who they are... and yet I live a lie. Almost all of what others see is a mask put on for their benefit. As for self-esteem and loving myself, no amount of masks can cover the fact that I am a hypocrite
in that arena.

And you should know that the lies won't hide your flaws, no sense in hiding all of yours Like I said, no amount of masks completely cover the fact that I'm not who they want me to be. I know that and they know that - it's enough to make one wonder why bother hiding behind the lies. Except that I have to try to be the me they want me to be.

You gave up on your dreams along the way How much have I given up over the course of my life to become what they want? I have trouble even thinking on that topic for too long.

I can fake with the best of anyone, I can fake with the best of em all, I can fake with the best of anyone. I can fake it all... But when push comes to shove, I can put on a mask and hold my own for a while. Especially for my kids. I can be strong when handling their affairs. They don't really understand the concept that I have the problems I do. And I can blend in with the PTA Moms and make all the right impressions on the teachers and staff. I can even pull off events with the In-Laws and have people tell me that I'm looking good and that it's good to see me feeling better.

But the truth is... I wonder how much of my soul is being eaten away by this pattern of behavior. Not that I am really willing to think there is a better way. It's not just Fake it. It's Fake It til you make it...

Square Peg in a Round Hole

Kid-3 announced today that he doesn't like his Sunday school class because he never learns anything and finds it pointless. I don't want to force him to go to a class he hates but I do want him to go to church. Being mostly asleep this morning and not having the time to consider what to do, we gave him the choice of going to class or coming to service with us. He chose to come with us. We attend the contemporary service which is mostly modern music performed by a live group. It does have a sermon, of course, but it doesn't have all the pomp and circumstance that most of them do.

Well, Kid-3 enjoyed the service and as we put our chairs away, he said he already knew what he was going to say when we talked about what we learned at church today. I feel much better. He plans to attend service with us from now on.

The Youth-Pastor gave the sermon again. The last sermon I heard of his was all about evangelism and alternately annoyed and bored me. He started out waxing enthusiastic about a friend and fellow pastor that is visiting the church. The guy has been working with Muslims to turn them into Christians for 15 years and Youth-Pastor couldn't heap enough praise on him. Then he launched into the Bible reading, part of a story about some lepers who went to the enemy camp to surrender only to find it empty. They stole some stuff and hid it and then decided they were doing the wrong thing and had to go tell the city the good news.

Of course, Youth-Pastor turned it into a lesson on evangelism. Yawn. But he also put it out there that no matter how big the problem, God is bigger and stronger. That clicked with Kid-3 and I like the concept as well. He had another point too but it neither appealed to me nor annoyed me so I have already forgotten what it was.

All the way through the service, I kept feeling out of place. Looking at the Apostles' Creed on the big screen and listening to everyone around me repeating it like mindless zombies really brought home how much I don't fit in. I am trying, I really am but I feel like a square peg trying to cram myself into a round hole. I want to believe. It would be nice to believe in something or someone who can grant instant forgiveness and make everything all better. It would be nice to believe in the same things most people I know believe in. I guess I thought if I found a round hole big enough, it wouldn't matter that I'm a square peg.

Last week with The Shrink, by way of introduction to the topic of Communion freaking me out, I explained my hypocrisy about taking them to church. I quite confused him, once I explained that I can't get my head around the whole concept of worshiping a man. And yet here I am, going out of my way and out of my comfort zone to ensure my kids learn the ways and rituals and the beliefs of the very religion I can't believe in.

I told him that I keep trying to believe. He stopped me and asked me why I was trying to force something like that. I told him that I have a hole; something is missing. I want it to be faith. And even though I can't get it to fit, yet, I am still trying. And I accept that I may never get there and yet still push my kids to find faith in the church. I am a hypocrite - but I'm okay with that.

The only thing that worries me is the fear of never filling that hole, especially since I don't know what is missing from it. What if it isn't religion at all?