Posted in adventure, Dreams, Life, Musings, random

Launched into Gratitude

grateful

I have been awake for literally five minutes, so lets hope this is coherent, but, HOLY SHIT- I just had a whopper of a dream, and woke up so freaking grateful for my life. First of all, this was just a variation of a recurrent dream/nightmare I have at least twice a month, if not more. It’s always pretty much the same- I have either quit my job already or am in the process of quitting it, and at a certain point I realize what a mistake I’ve made and beg for them to take me back.

This one was no different, except that my boss has told me that, since this is the second time I’ve told her I quit, there is no way that I can come back, but she’ll allow me to finish up some of the things I am working on. While I am there, two different people whom I haven’t seen in years remind me that I owe them rather large sums of money, and I am distressed that they never brought it up until now- I could have easily paid them while I was working, but now I don’t know how that’s going to work.

Somewhere in there, I also got another job- it pays almost nothing, and guess what I get to do? I get to review porn and write edits for it! Hahaha! In my dream, I am obviously disappointed in my life choices, but trying to make the best of it…I believe I commented something to my co-worker (who is an ex of mine that I haven’t seen in years, and also one of the people who reminded me that I owed him money) along the lines of “I didn’t even know this was a job!” As if I were lucky, but really, my heart was sinking.  I got in my car to go somewhere, and the check engine light came on. Great! No money for that, either.

The dream just grew more and more stressful in that manner until I went to my boss and begged for my job back. She said no twice, then said “Okay, fine” in a way that made me think she was never going to tell me no in the first place, but that she was just trying to scare me. It WORKED. I was so relieved, oh my God!

Here’s the deal- I get bored a LOT with my job. I’ve been doing it for a long time, and I’m always wondering if there is something else I should be doing, something more fun and more meaningful. But these dreams are stark reminders of what it would really be like if I didn’t have this work to do- what my life would really be like without this paycheck rolling in. I’m spoiled rotten, and I forget to be grateful.

I woke up grateful as hell this morning. Big shout out to my subconscious mind for giving me the kick in the ass I need to see reality. I am blessed beyond belief. I can’t wait to go to work today!

Also, there was a giant bus crash full of school children from Malawi, but they all escaped unharmed. I thought I should add that in there in case it actually comes true. I didn’t even know Malawi was a place, except I must have, because I dreamed about it. And no, the TV was not on. I’m just weird, I guess.

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Posted in Blogging, Life, motherhood, People, random, writing

Three Things, Late Again

three flowers

I can see a bad habit emerging here, but I do have an explanation- I just didn’t feel like writing yesterday. I mean, writing a blog. I worked on my novel some, after dealing with some technical issues (mine, not the computer) with Word in the early morning hours. Not only did I not feel like blogging, I didn’t even check my stats compulsively yesterday, or any of that. First time since December that I can recall just checking out of here like that. I needed a break, I guess. But enough of that- here are my final three things for February:

  1. Housework. I have been really, really trying to keep my house picked up lately, and, at the ripe old age of 42 it finally hit me- you have to do this shit every single day, don’t you? Like, if I don’t pick up the house every single day, it looks like hell again. I am both outraged and saddened by this fact- and I know it to be fact, because I didn’t really pick up the living room last night and, even though it was clean in here yesterday morning, it looks pretty messy right now. There is a giant pile of unmatched socks on the coffee table, next to several pieces of sketch paper abandoned by Camryn, a jacket and a pair of Uggs on the floor, and the “couch blanket” half on, half off the couch. There is also an empty laundry basket, a backpack, and a bathrobe on the couch. I was busy working on the kitchen last night, I didn’t quite make it to the living room. Maybe I should just work in the kitchen? But seriously, I went online, searching for a housekeeper yesterday, then realized I could be saving that money for fun stuff if I just managed to keep the house clean on my own. I mean, it’s never happened yet, but people change. Right?
  2. Worry. I don’t mean to brag, but I kind of consider myself a professional worrier. I am so good at it that when I run out of relevant things to stress out about, I am an expert at making up scenarios in my head in which things could theoretically go terribly wrong, and then I worry about those make-believe things. This morning, I found myself worrying that my tax refund would be intercepted by various government agencies that I owe money to, but don’t remember owing money to. Like, what if there are a bunch of things I have forgotten about, and they all take part of my money, and then I am expecting all this money, and I don’t get any of it?! What will I do then? Well, a) that isn’t going to happen, because it’s a made up scenario, and b) even if it did, I would just do what I always do- keep going. Still, it makes me anxious, just thinking about it. That’s how good I am at worrying.
  3. Gratitude. I think a good way to wrap this up is some perspective on all of the stuff I just wrote. How lucky am I to have this messy little house? How awesome is it that I have any house at all? There was once a time when I would have given anything to have even a crappy studio apartment of my own to lay down my head in at night, and now I have a whole house! With two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a laundry room, a big old yard…it might not be fancy, but it’s a lot more than I’ve had before. It’s a lot more than I should have wound up with, considering my former trajectory. And even if the imaginary government agencies take every penny of my tax return, I still have a great career and a paycheck I can depend on. So I need to be be grateful for all the blessings in my life, rather than feeling overwhelmed or worried. I am going to be okay. I am always okay.

And that is the best I can do for today. As always, have a speedy Friday, and may your weekend go by slow as molasses.

Posted in Addiction, advice, alcoholism, Learning, Life, Mental Health, Musings, People, random

Reservations (I’m not talking about dinner).

reservations

Not everyone who uses drugs becomes addicted- I mean, everyone I know pretty much did, but I hear there are people out there in the world who can use drugs “recreationally”, which means, I guess, in a fun way. Weekends, holidays, or something like that. These would be people that do NOT trade their family’s good silver and sexual favors for a twenty bag, I am guessing. I mean, not that I ever did anything like that, of course. My family never even had any good silver (that I am aware of. Good job, mom.) And I wasn’t smart enough to think of the sexual favor thing until I had already given it up, anyway. I never was very good at the whole hustle aspect of drug use. I basically just worked at a job so that I could buy myself whatever I needed, or I wheedled it out of people. I was a wheedler, not a hustler. Anyway, I have learned, even more thoroughly from being in a drug treatment center that caters to a…I want to say, more heavily insured group of people…that the “hitting rock bottom” thing that is talked about in the world of recovery looks very different for people who have a higher expectation of what their life should look like.

I mean, don’t get me wrong- there are people there that were living on the streets when they first came into the program, but it was more a matter of choice, meaning they had other options, than solely a consequence of their lifestyle. Like, help was available to them should they want it. Then, there are those who took their drugs as prescribed, but they felt their doctor was overindulging them and they felt terribly bad about this. My point is, only YOU know what the bottom looks like for YOU. I wasn’t really that messed up this time, by my standards. Not even close. But I can tell you this- I was tired as hell of living a double life. The burden of being that person was just no longer bearable. I sought help this time because I was too weary to keep going on anymore. It was not dramatic, there was no intervention- a lot of people didn’t even know what was going on with me. A LOT of people. You reach out for help when it is bad enough for YOU. And that is where it starts.

No one winds up in a treatment center feeling great and stable and mentally sound. There is no way that is happening. We wind up there after LOTS of suffering, many attempts to fix ourselves on our own, long stretches of battling ourselves, terrible battles, that go in internally. So the relief of finally getting help, of finally finding a safe reprieve from OURSELVES, is indescribable. You get into treatment willing, at last, to do anything to sustain that feeling of relief, of safety. It feels so good to wave that white flag, to surrender.

But, FUCK, we addicts are forgetful human beings. Given a little bit of time, a little distance, and we quickly forget the truth about who we are- who we JUST were. We feel so much better, and we already can’t believe it was that bad. We glamorize our old lifestyles, we joke about it, we don’t want to accept that this is our fate- a whole life without putting any substances, of any kind, in our bodies. Now, right here, for me, what I just wrote- that is how I know I am an addict. If you told most people- “hey, sorry, but you can’t ever drink, or smoke weed, and you should probably be highly cautious about even taking narcotic pain medication, even if you have had REAL pain.” They might balk a little, but, you know, if their doctor was telling them this- they would probably, eventually, shrug their shoulders and go. “Shit. That sucks. Alright, then.” For an addict, for ME, anyway, that is just grim. I get it, but I still have a lot of trouble believing it’s that big of a deal. Despite ALL of the evidence to the contrary, and there is plenty, my friends- I still have trouble accepting this.

Now, don’t get me wrong- I KNOW I can’t do my drug of choice. That isn’t what trips me up. My bigger struggle, the thing I have a hard time giving up, is alcohol. Or, it was hard, anyway. Until I got all sassy last weekend on a date, and drank half of a margarita. First of all, let me explain to you that since the day prior to this date, I was already ruminating, at great length, over whether or not I was going to drink. I don’t think this is something that normal people obsess over, is it? I finally decided I was definitely NOT going to drink. So imagine my surprise when I heard myself order a margarita! I seriously considered tackling the waiter as he walked away, begging him not to bring it. This is also not normal. Then, when it came, I wasn’t NOT going to drink it- it was a twelve dollar margarita, for Christ’s sake! How could I do that to my date, this perfect stranger whose opinion of me mattered far more than my recovery! I mean, that makes total sense, right? Oh, wait, no…it makes no fucking sense at all!

Long story short, I drank half, it was fine, I ordered a cranberry and soda, drank that instead, finished the date, went home, felt yucky, went to bed. Then, I woke up at midnight, chugged ten gallons of water, and lay in bed feeling really sick- almost as if I had ingested some type of poison, some type of tequila, maybe- and wondered what the fuck was wrong with me. But the good news is, that reservation I had, the battle in my head over whether or not drinking would be okay for me, was put to rest. I didn’t get out of control, but my thoughts certainly were a little crazy. Most people don’t get that nutty over a drink. Most people don’t put two days of thought into half a margarita. But more importantly, I didn’t like the way I felt. I am tired of not liking the way I feel. I’ve had enough of that for a lifetime.

There are lots more reasons why it isn’t a good idea for me to drink, but right now, I only need that one- because I don’t like how it made me feel. They talk a lot about reservations in twelve step programs, and why they are dangerous. You have to do what you have to do to resolve them in your own way. I am grateful today that mine didn’t have to be uglier than it was. That is was simple to resolve. Today, I am going to allow myself to remember the truth about who I am, and how I wound up where I am. Because people who forget their own history are doomed to repeat it, right? And that is not something I really want to do. Not at all.

Have a great Thursday! 🙂

Posted in beauty, inner peace, Learning, Life, love, Musings, People

The Odd, Wonderful, Sensation of Being Present

 

Image

A new level of reality has been coming over me in gentle waves, lately. One I have to admit I have never noticed before. You know how there is all this talk about “Mindfulness”, being “In the Moment”, “Living in the Present”? Well, I don’t know about you, but this has always been baffling to me. I mean, where the hell else can one be? I realize that my head is always going a million miles a minute, that I am often sort of transported, mentally, into things I want to do later, items I need to pick up from the grocery store, phone calls I need to return. The truth is, it has been so common for me to live my life in this state of distraction, I wasn’t even aware that I wasn’t really EVER present for what was before me.

Suddenly, without any conscious effort on my part, there have been these times, more and more often, when I am right where I am. That I am actually seeing the world in front of me, around me, without any distraction or intrusion from the past or the future. When I am out on my walks in the morning, and the air is so bracing when I first step outside, and the way I warm up within a block or so. The rhythmic sound of my feet as I walk is like a mantra that focuses me. Sometimes, I round a corner, look up, and like this morning, I see this incredible sun rising up over the bay, and the water looks like liquid gold, like a melted trail of the sun itself. This morning, as I ran down the hill with Lucy pulling me in her overzealous wake, I felt so alive. I realized I had this big ridiculous grin on my face, and that anyone who saw me would think I was nuts, but I really didn’t care.

I stop a lot to take pictures. I walk when I feel like it, and I run when the mood strikes me. But it isn’t just happening when I am alone. The other day, my older daughter came outside to talk to me, and as I looked up at her, I was struck by her appearance. It was like I was seeing this nearly grown, beautiful young woman for the very first time. Her loveliness took my breath away. It was as if I had been walking around with some weird buffer around me, keeping me disconnected from my own eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked. “Like what?” I bluffed, pretending like there was nothing different about anything. But everything is different. At least in flashes.

Camryn, too. As I gave her a bath the other night, like I do every night, I actually tuned in and participated (earnestly, not in the placating way that I usually do) in her joyful, non-stop banter. I realized what a wonderful, bright, sunny little human being I had been blessed with, out of the blue. I was so grateful for her guileless, un-jaded happiness…so glad that it had not been disturbed yet by whatever nonsense the world eventually heaps upon us. I am so glad I got to witness it for at least one unhurried moment.

It’s happening all the time, and it seems like the more I notice it, the more it happens. Maybe it is because I am alone, and I am free of all of the push and pull that goes on in a romantic relationship. That tends to take up a lot of head space, at least for me. Maybe it is because I have finally given myself full permission to live my life the way that I, and no one else, sees fit. That the rules I am following today are MINE. The truth is, this has brought me more peace than I have ever before known. Maybe it is the absence of fear in my life. I don’t know.

What I do know is that being present, really, fully, totally present…it truly is a gift. If I figure out how I am getting there, I will be sure to share the directions. 

Posted in advice, beauty, family, friendship, Learning, Life, love, Musings, People

Exquisitly Tender, Beautiful, Bittersweet Life

Let me preface this by saying I really do not feel like writing right now. It is eleven o’clock on Monday night, and I am tired. I am also being subjected to Doc McStuffins, when I would way rather be watching New Adventures of Old Christine,  or something else fluffy and comforting, that would overshadow the never ending babble in my head enough to lull me to sleep. But I am afraid that if I don’t write this down now, tomorrow, the feelings will be faded and I won’t be able to access the words I want to get down…and also, I am learning to push a little harder to find space and time in my life for the things I really love (writing), and to relinquish a little control, to compromise sometimes (the Doc McStuffins thing).

So, here I sit. I don’t know if you noticed or not, but I am a little erratic, a little mercurial, and perhaps wound up just a wee bit tight. If you can sense it in my writing, imagine what it might be like living with me. No, seriously, imagine it, for a minute. Actually, never mind, stop imagining it, it upsets me. I want you to like me. I can joke about it all day long, but the reality is, I am a tyrant around here. Or, as I told my sister on the phone today, it crossed my mind that I am a bully. I use noise and menace and flat out threats of physical harm to keep things in line at home, and this extends to EVERY member of the household, right down to the animals. Now, this was never my intention, of course- as a matter of fact, I didn’t even realize the terrible extent of it until the other day.

Have you ever had something happen to you that forced you to suddenly see yourself the way you actually are, rather than the version of yourself that yourself allows you to see? Like, not the you that your coworkers think you are because when YOU tell the stories of your life to them, they get the benefit of your calm, and the things that you felt that led you to react to your husband/ child/ dog the way you did…not just your banshee screams and tantrum, barely intelligible tirade, slammed door, cold, dead silence? Because this has been my routine, this has been a pretty regular thing around here-REALLY regular- and I am betting that most of the time, my people here didn’t really know WHAT the fuck was wrong with me (now), or WHY I was so pissed off all the time. I didn’t even know. I feel like I have been upset for like two years, and it would fade for a while, but never actually resolve.

The other day, I was just miserable (again) and I had that gnawing, anxious, tense knot, right dead center in my stomach. When I feel that way, I get so antsy and unsettled, and it HURTS, but not just physically. It hurts emotionally, like, my feelings are on edge and crazy, achy. I don’t know what to do with that pain, or why it is even there, so I start looking for the source, or plausible stand in. Long story short, I heaped it somewhere it didn’t belong, and I think it was nearly the last straw. I looked at this person I love, deeply, and saw for the first time the strain loving me was causing them. And it horrified me. In that one tiny little moment, my entire perspective completely shifted, and I saw all of it- how caustic and awful I have been, and how totally self absorbed. I don’t want to totally bash myself, either, because I think that is a big part of the problem- when we aren’t happy with ourselves, we find fault everywhere we look. But I understood that my behavior has been TOTALLY unacceptable. Totally.

When this happened, and my perspective changed just like that, my pain changed, also. It was still there, but the quality was different. It wasn’t a spite driven pain anymore, it was a sorrowful one. I was standing at my dresser, trying to process it all, and the self loathing and sadness were sort of duking in out, and I closed my eyes and tried to breathe, Out of nowhere, my mind began to think of every single person who loved me, one by one- I could see each person like they were in front of me, and I could feel their love for me ( I guess this was my subconscious ploy to prove to myself that I wasn’t all that bad), and it hit me that not only could I feel their energy as clearly as if they were actually there, but each of them had a totally unique feeling love. Every love from every person feels totally different. This blew my mind. Then I began to think of people that were not even alive anymore- my grandparents, friends I’ve lost…guess what? Whether they were around or not, I could feel the love they had for me. It didn’t matter what dimension they existed in- that love was forever, period. Once it was given to me, it was mine forever.

This was a comfort to me, but it got me thinking. What kind of love was I putting out for people to take? Was I giving something worth having? And what if I wasn’t loving anyone at all, not really? Like, if you know you love someone, but all of you they get is tension, resentment, frustration…then that is what you are leaving them with. If you die tomorrow, that is your legacy. It isn’t enough to just know you love people. You have to give it to them, too. You need to hand it to them willingly, and show it to them by the way you treat them, the things you say, the quality of your attention. Maybe you do this already, maybe I am just an asshole with problems. But in case you do make people try to pull a little to get some of your love or attention, in case you are an overwhelmed mom who isn’t thrilled with life and doesn’t realize she is taking it out on her kids…in case you are a human being who acts a little fucked up sometimes just know you aren’t alone. I have been out of control. I am really sad about it, but I am glad I am seeing it now, painful as it is. Because now I can change.

I have been terribly sensitive since all of this began a few days ago- the way a boo-boo always is after the hard scab comes off and exposes the shiny, pink, brand new skin beneath. But it’s a great kind of tenderness, because I can HEAR myself, and I can SEE the people all around me, and how important who I am is in a MUCH bigger picture- how important ALL of us are to each other, in a way that I really never, ever even would have guessed before. Everywhere you go, you are radiating your energy, and effecting the energy of everyone around you. The closer they are to you, the more closely tied, the more they are going to feel and be effected by you. I was hurting everyone around me, the ones I love most, worst of all.

I have made my mind up that I will be better, NO MATTER WHAT. I will start from a good place every day, and no matter how many times I falter, I will start over. I am not going to make the people I love bear my love like a weight. I want to lift them up, to lighten them. How could I not have always done this. or even understood that I needed to? I’m not sure how I didn’t understand how to love another human being, but I missed it by a mile. I have to forgive myself to move forward, but mark my words- these kids, this dude, my friends, my family- they are going to know they are loved, they are heard, they are cherished, and that they have my undivided attention. And they are going to think of me and smile…long after I am gone, they will feel the great and deep love I have for them.

Posted in humor, Life, Musings, People, random, Uncategorized

A Flu by any other name…is STILL THE FLU!

flu

I had every intention of starting off 2014 in my most favorite of all ways- as a phoenix rising from the ashes, reborn, glorious, invigorated and raring to go. I had plans, people. I had someone to BE. At the very least, I wanted to walk my dog more, try to remember that my family were loved ones who wanted my time and attention because they loved me, not because they hated me and would stop at nothing to thwart any creative endeavor that might bring me the merest smidgen of joy. Oh, and, though I may have worded it differently in my last blog, I wanted very much to slough off some of this annoying fat that was blocking (from every conceivable angle) the view of my great body. I mean, by the time I get all this annoying chub off of me, who knows what kind of shape my poor, real body is going to be in? Global warming and pollution are the culprit, obviously…they, together, have caused strange atmospheric changes resulting in what I can only describe as “body smog”. Well, I could also describe it as “fat”, but it’s harder to blame on global warming that way. Anyway, the point is (was) that I had hopes for this year. Big ones.

None of them, not even one, included me laying in bed, alternately begging God to spare me and telling my person I would certainly be dead soon. No, seriously, I actually did start crying towards the end of day one and begged person to please not let me die. He, who is perhaps a little TOO used to my theatrics and can no longer tell the difference between a heartfelt plea for Carl’s Jr. at three a.m., and an actual desperate (though fever-fueled) appeal for help, merely sighed and rolled his eyes. He may have also brought me juice, once. Oh, don’t think I won’t remember that, buster. So, point number two- I did not intend to get sick, nor did I think I would, having taken all reasonable precautions ( Oh, yeah, up yours, flu shot.)

All around me, people were wheezing, hacking, pale as corpses save for the red rings around their nostrils…the ones who weren’t already in the throes of illness stepped gingerly through the world of sickies surrounding them, giving them so much polite space that it was actually kind of rude. Me? I whine incessantly about not feeling good, but the truth is, I have one of the most robust immune systems on the planet. In the six years person and I have been doing this…whatever this is…he has never actually seen me sick. So, I marched confidently up to, near, and stood close to every sicky in sight. I’d had my flu shot, and I work at a hospital, for Pete’s sake! My immune system is top shelf. Plus, I never get sick. Oh…except when I do. Right.

Sunday, I lay down for a nap and noticed a tickle in my throat, like dust or a little hair was on my tonsil. I tried to clear it, but nope. I took a nap. I woke up to find my nose running, eyes watering, and my head all congested. My teenaged daughter had come home the day before and slept all day and night claiming she had the “flu”, but as she bounced right out the door looking gorgeous Sunday, I blew it off. “Great” I thought, “She gave me her stupid cold.” but I was fine the rest of the day. I took my dog for a long walk Sunday, and hit the sack early….and when I woke up Monday morning, I felt like an eighty year old pile of shit. Listen, when you have the ability to work from home and you are too sick to even manage that, you are sick. Still, until about eleven or twelve that day, I believed it was bronchitis. And a headache.

I’m not sure when it became clear to me that I was dealing with something way beyond bronchitis, which I would have welcomed, gladly, over this crap, but I kept stubbornly refusing to admit it was the flu. I mean, I had my stupid flu shot! Until somewhere mid day two, when my fever climbed to 101 and my skin and bones ached so badly that there was no way I could position myself so that I didn’t hurt. In the wee hours of day three (three a.m.) I couldn’t sleep anymore, tired as I was. I couldn’t lay there hurting anymore. I had to do something! Also, I kept reflecting on the words my daughter had left me with earlier the previous night- “Like five people have DIED, mom, so, like, be careful.”  to which I had responded “DIED? Healthy people? was is because they didn’t seek medical attention?” She thought for a second, and nodded, then added, “Or like, they were already in the hospital but there was nothing they could do. Okay, I have to go, love you!”

Taking strength from her misinterpretation and horrible delivery of what I assume were valid news stories, I called my local ER. “Are you guys busy?” I croaked. “Not at all.” Said the lady on the other end. “Good, I’ll be there in a few.”  And I was. Now, it says something when you are willing to show up to the place that also employs you in clothes you have been wearing, sleeping and sweating profusely in  for the past several days-without a bra, I might add. Nor did I brush my teeth or even attempt to mess with my hair. I just went. I got into a bed in record time, and when my doctor came in, I said “I know there’s probably nothing you can do for me, I’m just so miserable- I hurt and I can’t sleep, and I want to die.”  He smiled and said (PAY ATTENTION, THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART)-

“Well, that was true, at one time…but, now, I can give you tamiflu which will fight the bug and shorten the course of your illness. Also, you need a prescription strength antiinflammatory (Naproxen, he gave me) and something to just knock you out so you can rest, like Norco ( I asked if I could have ativan instead since Norco does strange things to me). He also told me that the flu shot this year was a MISS. That they do the best they can to predict which strains will be the most virulent and widespread, and this year they seem to have gotten it wrong! So, don’t rush out for the flu shot this year, kids. It won’t hurt, but it might not help, either. Just before I left, I said something about how I don’t remember the flu being this bad , to a male nurse who was feeding me drugs. He made that face that people make when they want to disagree without being disagreeable, especially when talking to someone like me, a human of lesser intelligence (…brother), and he said “There are lots of bugs and viruses going around that seem like the flu, but aren’t.” “Oh, ” I replied, then-“same symptoms, same treatment, pretty much, lasts about the same?” to which he nodded. “So it’s basically the flu, then, if we have to call it something, right?” He nodded, gave me my pill cup, and left. Oopsie.

In closing, I would like to say several more things that will make this blog even longer: a) this blog is really long. b) I feel like shit, which is about a thousand times better than I felt yesterday, so basically, I feel awesome. And c) I would still get the flu shot, just to cover you from the other flu bugs, and perhaps lessen the length of illness, if you do get it. Oh, and d) People, there is no such thing as stomach flu. Influenza in a respiratory illness- if you are puking and crapping, you have gastroenteritis of some sort. Look it up.

Okay, goodbye.

Posted in aging, family, inner peace, Learning, Life, love, People, relationships

Rest Until You’re Ready Again.

hurt

 

I wrote a blog last night. It was really long, and I was really tired. I decided not to post it, but to read it over in the morning…I am very glad I showed some restraint, there, because I surely did not in what I had written. I know you are dying to read it now, but you will just have to wait until either I am dead, or someone hacks my WordPress account. And let me just say, how bored would THAT person have to be? Also, it was a bit hard to read, as I changed the subject about twice a sentence. Yeah, not everything I write is fantastic- unlike this little gem is already proving to be. Ha!

So, let me tell you about my week- the one that just passed. My older daughter got thrown into Juvenile Hall, I have probably removed five years from my life thanks to my blood pressure remaining around stroke levels for a record amount of days due to seething rage and hatred, and, the tattered remains of the “relationship” I was hoping to salvage, were found to be utterly unsalvageable. I say “relationship” because, truly, it has been less than that for longer than I care to admit. Way longer than I was willing to stop pretending. Plus, we do not relate to one another in ANY manner, so how can it be called a relationship? I think what we had was more like a fiascoship, or a nightmareship, or something. Okay, I better stop, or I won’t be able to post this one either.

You know what? I am fucking exhausted. I am tired of working like a crazy person to keep so many things going, for so many people, and getting very little appreciation for it. I am tired of defending myself to selfish teenagers and selfish men who couldn’t make it a day in my shoes. I miss my daughter like crazy, and I wish that she were home, but it would be pretty nice to have her treat me kindly when she didn’t want something from me. I tried as hard as it is possible for me to try to make things work with the little one’s dad, and I know I did. I also know that there are no more ways I can trick myself into thinking I have found a solution, a way for us to soldier on until a more permanent fix is found, down the road.

Here is the deal- I believe in my true heart that the man I spent the past five years of my life with is a really messed up person. I know he reads this, and I’m sorry if this offends him, but he really is. The level of deceit that goes on in his daily routine, and the volume of negative, unhealthy energy he carries around with him is so unusual that I honestly couldn’t come to terms with it. The ONLY thing I have seen him do well is be a dad, and even then, that extends only to our child together. His other kid, who is really a great person, has been mostly out of sight for FIVE years. So I can only wonder how our experience will go. I have never before felt the way I do when I am around him- like I could really harm him, or anyone foolish enough to upset me further than he already has- and I never, ever want to again. I don’t like myself at all when I am near him, ninety percent of the time, and I don’t want to continue to be with someone who I can’t like myself around. My kid, I can’t get rid of ( and I love her, I really don’t want to), but I don’t have to do this anymore.

I know that I need to start making better decisions. I knew this a long time ago, when I kept choosing to stay when, inside, I KNEW it was a bad idea. I didn’t understand how high the stakes would end up being- now we have a kid, and I am older, and I am scarred from all of this shit. Not to mention, I have plenty of my own issues to deal with, aside from this. Ack! I am getting overwhelmed just talking about this, right now…which brings me to my point:

I spend a good portion of my day, every single day of my life, questioning myself, condemning myself, and doubting myself. I worry that I am not a good mother, that my kids will grow to hate me, that I do everything wrong, that I do not love them enough, or let them know how loved they are. I worry about my job, about not liking my job, about losing my job even though I don’t really love it, I worry that I don’t deserve my job. I worry about this relationship bullshit- that he’s right, and it’s me, that I am too harsh. That I have stayed too long, given up too soon, that I am making a mistake. I worry that I will be alone forever, and that I might have to go through this again. And those are just THREE parts of my life! Can you imagine?

I am going to try to be kind to myself. After he leaves, I generally have this wretched feeling of mean-ness and failure, and this is no different. I am not going to allow myself to continue punishing myself for where I am. I didn’t want to be here, but it’s where I am. I need to be okay so that I don’t have to stay here, right? I am NOT going to think about what’s next, nor dwell on what has happened. Today, I am just going to do what I told my toddler to do, yesterday, when she was getting frustrated, trying to learn to hop on one foot-“Rest a minute ’til you calm down- just rest until you’re ready.”