Last week someone told me about losing a parent and today it's making me very sad for some reason. And then it hit me... I'm finally letting go of my mom.
Yesterday I told her I can't handle talking to her anymore. I can't speak to her about anything, not even the weather without getting completely agitated.
She doesn't listen to me. I tell her it doesn't matter what her excuse or reasoning is for something, but she's got to tell me anyway. No matter what, because somehow it's going to make a difference, but it never does.
She tried telling me about how hard it was to overcome the crappy stuff her dad did to her, but she did because she wanted a relationship with him. But, all I wonder is why she wanted a relationship with a man that wouldn't recognize her husband, her daughter or her grandkids. There comes a point in time where you realize a relationship with a parent can't continue because no matter how much they love you, they can't give you want you need. She wants me to sacrifice my feelings and my well being so we can have a relationship. I can't do that.
I don't blame her for her behavior and how it a ffects me. Both my parents tried the best they could, but they never should have been parents. They were both so broken and are still broken. They will always be broken.
My mom doesn't understand how I can not blame her and still not want to have a relationship with her. She thinks things have been better the last 6 months or so. But, six months of good doesn't negate 30+ years of bad. She says I've changed since I moved here. With all that I have been through, how could any person not change? How can a person not change when they have to bail their parent out of jail, move them in with you, take them to court in another state, help them find a new place to live and move all their shit and then be called horrible names and accuses your husband of wanting her dead? Yes, she was mentally unstable, having an arthritis flare up and under a lot of stress, but the shit she did would jack anyone up.
For the longest time I resisted backing away from here because she was my mom. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I wanted her to believe that I don't blame her. I didn't want to hurt her. I didn't want to be the selfish stuck up bitch has said I am. But, I just can't fight anymore. I am too tired to fight. Too tired to play the game and sacrifice my self so her feelings are spared. I am done and I don't have a bit of guilt about it.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Meeting My Self Critical Voice
Yesterday I was finally able to meet my self critical voice. The one that yells at me when I make the smallest mistake and makes me terrified to make decisions. The one that won't let me get rid of this weight because she thinks it keeps her safe.
She's a little girl that was born to fail. Her parents were train wrecks for each other, but didn't see it. A little over a year into their marriage, things rocky, so they had a baby to fix it. Surely that would bring them together.
I first grade she had a chance to be in the gifted program at school, but then her grade started slipping. All through grade school she wanted to be in "smart kids" class, but was always put in the "average kids" class.
She continued to grow up watching her parents fight and being manipulated my her mother. There was screaming, name calling, police, etc. Her mother wanted her to hate her father. But deep down she couldn't. She was called all sorts of names and told she deserved to be hit by a a person with family services.
Then she became a teenager. She had the "wrong" kind of friends, smoked, and stole for her friends' drug money. They weren't good for her, but they accepted her. Even though she had to pay them.
Later in her teen years she developed sever pain in her back and couldn't go to school for two years. She was in the hospital for countless tests, but nothing was found. Her parents psychiatrist said it was all from my head. Her psychiatrist also saved her. He convinced her parents to put her in a mental institution for two years.
It was the best two years of her life. She went to school, had friends messed up like she was, had a boyfriend and even went to prom. It was a safe place, a place where she wasn't responsible for keeping her parents marriage together. In her senior year of school, she had to go home because the insurance stopped paying.
She somehow managed to graduate high school and went to college. Her mom shot down almost every school she wanted to go to. But, in the end she was finally free of her parents.
After college, she moved back to her parents house and did everything she could to stay away. She worked two jobs, went back to school for her masters degree and spent time with her new boyfriend.
She later married that boyfriend and has had an incredible ten years of marriage and two thriving happy children.
But she doesn't see how much she has overcome and how successful she has been. She doesn't understand why her husband loves her. All she sees is the mistakes she's made. All the times she had failed.
And now that she has met her self critical voice, she understands on a deeper level why she struggles. Why she won't be loved, why she can't lose weight, why she can't truly live.
Through all this crap, she has had another voice. A voice that won't let her quit. A voice her self critical voice screams at. But, that other voice is getting stronger and it will get louder.
She's a little girl that was born to fail. Her parents were train wrecks for each other, but didn't see it. A little over a year into their marriage, things rocky, so they had a baby to fix it. Surely that would bring them together.
I first grade she had a chance to be in the gifted program at school, but then her grade started slipping. All through grade school she wanted to be in "smart kids" class, but was always put in the "average kids" class.
She continued to grow up watching her parents fight and being manipulated my her mother. There was screaming, name calling, police, etc. Her mother wanted her to hate her father. But deep down she couldn't. She was called all sorts of names and told she deserved to be hit by a a person with family services.
Then she became a teenager. She had the "wrong" kind of friends, smoked, and stole for her friends' drug money. They weren't good for her, but they accepted her. Even though she had to pay them.
Later in her teen years she developed sever pain in her back and couldn't go to school for two years. She was in the hospital for countless tests, but nothing was found. Her parents psychiatrist said it was all from my head. Her psychiatrist also saved her. He convinced her parents to put her in a mental institution for two years.
It was the best two years of her life. She went to school, had friends messed up like she was, had a boyfriend and even went to prom. It was a safe place, a place where she wasn't responsible for keeping her parents marriage together. In her senior year of school, she had to go home because the insurance stopped paying.
She somehow managed to graduate high school and went to college. Her mom shot down almost every school she wanted to go to. But, in the end she was finally free of her parents.
After college, she moved back to her parents house and did everything she could to stay away. She worked two jobs, went back to school for her masters degree and spent time with her new boyfriend.
She later married that boyfriend and has had an incredible ten years of marriage and two thriving happy children.
But she doesn't see how much she has overcome and how successful she has been. She doesn't understand why her husband loves her. All she sees is the mistakes she's made. All the times she had failed.
And now that she has met her self critical voice, she understands on a deeper level why she struggles. Why she won't be loved, why she can't lose weight, why she can't truly live.
Through all this crap, she has had another voice. A voice that won't let her quit. A voice her self critical voice screams at. But, that other voice is getting stronger and it will get louder.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
You Just Have to Go For It
A wise man who I admire the hell out of recently told me you "Just have to go for it. You won't always win, but eventually you will and then you will have momentum. Good things come from good things."
The only way I'm going to get there is to just start doing it. Stop thinking about it and just do it.
Yes it's scary as hell. Yes staying with what I know is safer. But staying safe is also staying miserable.
I've got to start letting go. Stop fearing the tears. Stop trying to be strong. Because hanging on out of fear is not strength. Stubbornness maybe, but not strength.
The only way I'm going to get there is to just start doing it. Stop thinking about it and just do it.
Yes it's scary as hell. Yes staying with what I know is safer. But staying safe is also staying miserable.
I've got to start letting go. Stop fearing the tears. Stop trying to be strong. Because hanging on out of fear is not strength. Stubbornness maybe, but not strength.
"Don't delay awakening by studying the darkness. Step into the light" - Alan Cohen
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Unplanned Ramblings
I don't know how you do it. You have challenges and struggles just like everyone else, but somehow you rise above them and use them to make yourself and others better. I just run the other way.
Perfectionism, passion, intensity, intelligence, control. I fear them and they make me want to run and hide. I have always seen these things as negatives, but you show me they can be used as positives. My son struggles with these things too and I introduced him to the show so he could see someone approach life the way you try to.
I see the things you do, wonder how you do it and convince myself I can't do anything like that. I'm too lazy. In reality, I'm scared. Exactly what I'm afraid of I'm not sure of. Part of it is failing. I think another part of it is criticism.
I admire you self awareness, personal strength and confidence. It's what gets you through the crap you are handed. It's what gives you the ability to do what you do and let go of the junk. It's what will help me conquer my fears.
Perfectionism, passion, intensity, intelligence, control. I fear them and they make me want to run and hide. I have always seen these things as negatives, but you show me they can be used as positives. My son struggles with these things too and I introduced him to the show so he could see someone approach life the way you try to.
I see the things you do, wonder how you do it and convince myself I can't do anything like that. I'm too lazy. In reality, I'm scared. Exactly what I'm afraid of I'm not sure of. Part of it is failing. I think another part of it is criticism.
I admire you self awareness, personal strength and confidence. It's what gets you through the crap you are handed. It's what gives you the ability to do what you do and let go of the junk. It's what will help me conquer my fears.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Round Two
I have my second EMDR treatment tomorrow. I'm trying not to think about it because I'm dreading it. I've been debating whether or not I want to come up with excuses to not do it.
The only way I'm going to truly be better and stop being so afraid of everything is to go through this process. I know that. But, as much as I know that, I'm still so damn scared to feel better. I'm afraid to dig all this shit up. All this shit that I have worked so damn hard to stuff.
I feel stuck. I'm understanding more of what makes me feel the way I do and what is triggering my emotions, but when it comes to going through the EMDR process and talking myself out of my negative thoughts, I am completely overwhelmed.
And now that I'm starting to really think about this, I'm becoming overwhelmed again, so I'm going to drink some wine and focus on my distractions.
The only way I'm going to truly be better and stop being so afraid of everything is to go through this process. I know that. But, as much as I know that, I'm still so damn scared to feel better. I'm afraid to dig all this shit up. All this shit that I have worked so damn hard to stuff.
I feel stuck. I'm understanding more of what makes me feel the way I do and what is triggering my emotions, but when it comes to going through the EMDR process and talking myself out of my negative thoughts, I am completely overwhelmed.
And now that I'm starting to really think about this, I'm becoming overwhelmed again, so I'm going to drink some wine and focus on my distractions.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
First EMDR Session
I had my first EMDR therapy session last week. If you don't know what EMDR is, I'm not sure I can explain it very well. Basically you bring up issues you are struggling with and through rapid eye movement, create new paths to help you resolve the issues.
I didn't know what to expect with this or how I would react to it, but I've been dealing with this crap for so long I didn't really care. I just want to stop feeling miserable with every thought I have.
First I picked a negative feeling that I experience frequently (feelings of worthlessness and not being good enough) and brought up experiences that have triggered those feelings one at a time. I processed the experience by talking through the thoughts I have about it while I rapidly follow my therapists fingers back and forth with my eyes.
Let me just tell you this exercise left me DRAINED for two days! It was emotionally painful and exhausting. I felt sick to my stomach, my eyes hurt and it made me dizzy to type on a computer screen the day I did the therapy. I'm not going to lie, it freaking sucked! For two days, almost everything I did or thought created an intense emotional reaction. At one point I started balling when I put on a pair of shorts.
My therapist noticed a couple things. She noticed that I would get stuck at the same spot with each experience I processed. Before I would find the positive in the experience, I got stuck at the bottom of the negatives. This happened with four of the five things I processed. The last thing I processed, I couldn't pull myself out of. This was the struggle I have with losing weight. I can't do it. I self destruct and tell myself horrible things every time I try.
The other thing my therapist observed is that I have intense negative emotional reactions to every feeling I experience - good or bad. If I'm having good feelings, I talk myself down from them and if I'm having bad feelings, I let them have free reign in my head.
I'm not doing the best job of communicating what an impact this therapy had on me. I wish I could. I wish I would have written down what was going through my head that day, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I've been meaning to write about for a week, but this is the first opportunity I have felt strong enough to do it without falling apart.
I'm not looking forward to my next session. As a matter of fact, I'm dreading it. I have a feeling the closer next Tuesday comes, the more anxiety I will have. This experience was so difficult I question whether I want to do it again. But, when I look at the alternative of continuing to feel like crap every time I try to experience an emotion, it's about as equally painful as the sessions. The only difference is that going through these sessions will hopefully help stop all the awful emotions.
I didn't know what to expect with this or how I would react to it, but I've been dealing with this crap for so long I didn't really care. I just want to stop feeling miserable with every thought I have.
First I picked a negative feeling that I experience frequently (feelings of worthlessness and not being good enough) and brought up experiences that have triggered those feelings one at a time. I processed the experience by talking through the thoughts I have about it while I rapidly follow my therapists fingers back and forth with my eyes.
Let me just tell you this exercise left me DRAINED for two days! It was emotionally painful and exhausting. I felt sick to my stomach, my eyes hurt and it made me dizzy to type on a computer screen the day I did the therapy. I'm not going to lie, it freaking sucked! For two days, almost everything I did or thought created an intense emotional reaction. At one point I started balling when I put on a pair of shorts.
My therapist noticed a couple things. She noticed that I would get stuck at the same spot with each experience I processed. Before I would find the positive in the experience, I got stuck at the bottom of the negatives. This happened with four of the five things I processed. The last thing I processed, I couldn't pull myself out of. This was the struggle I have with losing weight. I can't do it. I self destruct and tell myself horrible things every time I try.
The other thing my therapist observed is that I have intense negative emotional reactions to every feeling I experience - good or bad. If I'm having good feelings, I talk myself down from them and if I'm having bad feelings, I let them have free reign in my head.
I'm not doing the best job of communicating what an impact this therapy had on me. I wish I could. I wish I would have written down what was going through my head that day, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I've been meaning to write about for a week, but this is the first opportunity I have felt strong enough to do it without falling apart.
I'm not looking forward to my next session. As a matter of fact, I'm dreading it. I have a feeling the closer next Tuesday comes, the more anxiety I will have. This experience was so difficult I question whether I want to do it again. But, when I look at the alternative of continuing to feel like crap every time I try to experience an emotion, it's about as equally painful as the sessions. The only difference is that going through these sessions will hopefully help stop all the awful emotions.
A Letter
I wrote this not long after my first EMDR session. The session obviously dug up a lot of "stuff".
Dear person that gave birth to me:
Damn you for calling me a selfish bitch over and over again.
Damn you for not listening. Over and over again. To this day even.
Damn you for manipulating me.
Damn you for not accepting what I did as good enough.
Damn you for not sticking up for your family.
Damn you for making dad hit me.
Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!
I know things weren't easy for you. I know you took your fair share of shit as a kid. But damn you for thinking I could solve all your problems!
I was a kid! I was doing my best to please you so you would stay off my back, but nothing was ever good enough. There was always one more spec of food on the dishes before they went in the dishwasher. There was always one more spec of dirt in the bathroom sink. You would never let me do things on my own because you were afraid of the mess it would cause.
You think you did an awesome thing by putting me in the hospital for two years, but then you want a fucking pat on the back because YOUR insurance paid for it. It's your fucking job as a parent to raise me. It's a thankless job. But you do it anyway. You don't put your child on guilt trips because you don't think they show you enough gratitude?
With all the shit you pulled, why the hell would I have an ounce of gratitude for you?! Because you gave birth to me? You could've done us both a favor and skipped it.
You try to make up for all your mistakes by telling me how great I am. But guess what. I don't believe a word you say.
Dear person that gave birth to me:
Damn you for calling me a selfish bitch over and over again.
Damn you for not listening. Over and over again. To this day even.
Damn you for manipulating me.
Damn you for not accepting what I did as good enough.
Damn you for not sticking up for your family.
Damn you for making dad hit me.
Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!
I know things weren't easy for you. I know you took your fair share of shit as a kid. But damn you for thinking I could solve all your problems!
I was a kid! I was doing my best to please you so you would stay off my back, but nothing was ever good enough. There was always one more spec of food on the dishes before they went in the dishwasher. There was always one more spec of dirt in the bathroom sink. You would never let me do things on my own because you were afraid of the mess it would cause.
You think you did an awesome thing by putting me in the hospital for two years, but then you want a fucking pat on the back because YOUR insurance paid for it. It's your fucking job as a parent to raise me. It's a thankless job. But you do it anyway. You don't put your child on guilt trips because you don't think they show you enough gratitude?
With all the shit you pulled, why the hell would I have an ounce of gratitude for you?! Because you gave birth to me? You could've done us both a favor and skipped it.
You try to make up for all your mistakes by telling me how great I am. But guess what. I don't believe a word you say.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
I'm Sick of Fighting
Why is it so hard to just feel good? I don't want to feel like shit all the time. I fight like hell to not feel like shit, but when I feel good, a piece of me is trying to make me feel like shit again. What the hell???
I have had this fight going on inside my head all evening. I keep telling myself "Everything is going to be ok". I'm sure I've said it 1,000 times tonight, buy the moment I stop, bad shit washes over me and I've got to fight through it over and over again.
I'm so tired of fighting. Part of me wants to give up and let this shit consume me because I'm so sick of fighting. But every time I try to stop fighting, something inside me starts saying "Everything is going to be ok".
I'm so sick of life lessons. I need a damn break from them. However, I think I'm going through this new round of shit so that I can see that I'm stronger. If only I would stop fighting it!!!
Be Careful With What You Ask For
Well, when you go looking for it, life will bring it to you. I've been struggling with how calmly I handled crap that happened earlier this week. Yes, you read that right - struggling with how well I handled something. And struggling with a feeling of lack of emotions. Well, today I learned I do still indeed have emotions and they will hit me like a ton of bricks and the worst time.
I was out trying to run a couple errands and within five minutes, I was pulled over for not wearing a seat belt. Seriously, who gets pulled over for shit like that. Apparently I do, because I am a cop magnet. You'd think being married to one would exempt you from stuff like this, but it doesn't.
Within a minute of the cop approaching my car, I had lost it. I don't think the officer knew what happen. One minute he's telling me he pulled me over for not having my seatbelt on and the next minute I'm balling my eyes out. And then a second cop showed up. I swear I thought they were going to put me away for having a mental breakdown. Maybe I should've taken them up on their offer to call an ambulance. I'm less likely to screw anything up if I'm locked up with all the other crazies.
Someone on Facebook pointed out that maybe getting pulled over saved me from something worse happening. Maybe. Everything does happen for a reason.
I know one thing, If life is trying to teach me something I'd sure like to know what the hell it is. It needs to make things a little more clear for me because I'm obviously not getting the hints. I dunno, maybe I'm being tested so I can see how much stronger I am. Maybe it's a lesson teaching me to quit questioning the fact that I'm feeling better and listen to that voice that keeps telling me to let this stupid stuff go. Maybe something awesome is about to happen and karma is requiring I pay in advance for it. I sure hope I'm paid up because I'm just about broke!
I was out trying to run a couple errands and within five minutes, I was pulled over for not wearing a seat belt. Seriously, who gets pulled over for shit like that. Apparently I do, because I am a cop magnet. You'd think being married to one would exempt you from stuff like this, but it doesn't.
Within a minute of the cop approaching my car, I had lost it. I don't think the officer knew what happen. One minute he's telling me he pulled me over for not having my seatbelt on and the next minute I'm balling my eyes out. And then a second cop showed up. I swear I thought they were going to put me away for having a mental breakdown. Maybe I should've taken them up on their offer to call an ambulance. I'm less likely to screw anything up if I'm locked up with all the other crazies.
Someone on Facebook pointed out that maybe getting pulled over saved me from something worse happening. Maybe. Everything does happen for a reason.
I know one thing, If life is trying to teach me something I'd sure like to know what the hell it is. It needs to make things a little more clear for me because I'm obviously not getting the hints. I dunno, maybe I'm being tested so I can see how much stronger I am. Maybe it's a lesson teaching me to quit questioning the fact that I'm feeling better and listen to that voice that keeps telling me to let this stupid stuff go. Maybe something awesome is about to happen and karma is requiring I pay in advance for it. I sure hope I'm paid up because I'm just about broke!
Friday, June 15, 2012
Change in Emotions
On Tuesday I had a seriously rough day. I wasn't sure I was going to make it through this med change. And then I remebered to actually take my meds. I also got some unexpected good news about something I was toturing myself over. I knew I was overreacting and that I should have listened to my instincts a month ago.
On Thursday I fell asleep while driving and woke up just in time to see a car making a left hand turn. I couldn't stop in time and smashed into the side of the car. As if that wasn't bad enough, I also got arrested for a driving with a suspended license. Didn't even know I had a suspended license. If this would have happened on Tuesday, I would have fallen apart. I wouldn't have been able to keep myself together as well as I did. I held myself together so well that I wasn't sure who this person in my body was. I cried a little bit twice, but was able to pull myself together fairly quickly.
This wreck ruined my big father's day gift to Magnus. We were going camping for a long weekend and he was really looking forward to it. The wreck also brought up a lot of other junk that upset him. He wasn't mad at me, and for once I believed him.
As a matter of fact, I haven't had much emotion about anything since Tuesday. These massive THINGS that would have sent me into a huge depression and on some very exotic guilt trips to far away locations. This wreck has hardly phased me. I mean it sucks. My van could be totaled and we are less than a year away from paying it off. My insurance might drop me because this is the scond claim I've had filed in a week. But, for whatever reason, I'm not phased by it. I have hardly thought about the new things I've been too afraid to try. As a matter of fact, I did something Tuesday without giving it two thoughts before hand. I just did it and had complete peace about it. I haven't even gotten myself worked up into a "sky is falling tizzy" over nothing resulting from it yet either. I'm a little impatient about it, but not worried. It's so bizzare.
All of this lack of intense emotions is bizzare. Almost a numbness. I start to freak out about it, but something snaps me out of it before I get going. I'm also bored. I don't feel like doing much of anything but playing games on my iPad or play on FB. And dare I say there is a part of me that actually misses these intense emotions? I wouldn't say I miss them enough to want to bring them back, but I miss them. I probably miss the highs. I kind of wonder if I'm trying to bring myself down so I can have a high to bring me back.
I should probably wrap this up some way, but I don't know how. So, consider this the wrap up.
On Thursday I fell asleep while driving and woke up just in time to see a car making a left hand turn. I couldn't stop in time and smashed into the side of the car. As if that wasn't bad enough, I also got arrested for a driving with a suspended license. Didn't even know I had a suspended license. If this would have happened on Tuesday, I would have fallen apart. I wouldn't have been able to keep myself together as well as I did. I held myself together so well that I wasn't sure who this person in my body was. I cried a little bit twice, but was able to pull myself together fairly quickly.
This wreck ruined my big father's day gift to Magnus. We were going camping for a long weekend and he was really looking forward to it. The wreck also brought up a lot of other junk that upset him. He wasn't mad at me, and for once I believed him.
As a matter of fact, I haven't had much emotion about anything since Tuesday. These massive THINGS that would have sent me into a huge depression and on some very exotic guilt trips to far away locations. This wreck has hardly phased me. I mean it sucks. My van could be totaled and we are less than a year away from paying it off. My insurance might drop me because this is the scond claim I've had filed in a week. But, for whatever reason, I'm not phased by it. I have hardly thought about the new things I've been too afraid to try. As a matter of fact, I did something Tuesday without giving it two thoughts before hand. I just did it and had complete peace about it. I haven't even gotten myself worked up into a "sky is falling tizzy" over nothing resulting from it yet either. I'm a little impatient about it, but not worried. It's so bizzare.
All of this lack of intense emotions is bizzare. Almost a numbness. I start to freak out about it, but something snaps me out of it before I get going. I'm also bored. I don't feel like doing much of anything but playing games on my iPad or play on FB. And dare I say there is a part of me that actually misses these intense emotions? I wouldn't say I miss them enough to want to bring them back, but I miss them. I probably miss the highs. I kind of wonder if I'm trying to bring myself down so I can have a high to bring me back.
I should probably wrap this up some way, but I don't know how. So, consider this the wrap up.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Taking Control
Have you ever thought about how powerful control is?
Control - The situation of being under the regulation, domination, or command of another.
When we feel like we are in control, we feel safe and secure. Life is good when we are in control. On the other hand, if we feel like something in our life is spinning out of control, we panic. Panic causes more loss of control and we start a downward spiraling loss of ourselves. Sometimes that spiral is so fast we can't seem to stop it and other times it's a slow descend. We know it's happening, but it feels like there is no way to stop it.
There are lots of things we don't think we feel like we have control over. The weather, traffic, work, stupid people, etc. But guess what! We have control over ALL those things. We have control of those things because we have control of ourselves.
No, we can't help whether it's sunny or cloudy, but we can control our reaction to it. We can't control what stupid people do, but we can choose whether or not we are going to let it piss us off. By controlling yourself and how you react to things you are actually in control of everything! Think about that for a minute.
I'll be the first one to tell you it's no easy feat to keep your emotions in check. And I'm definitely NOT very good about controlling my reactions to things, but I'm learning. Slowly. It's not something that can be changed overnight, but it can be changed. Start with little things. Raining today? Oh well! It's sunny in my head and that's what matters! Somebody snapped at you for no reason? Who cares! It's not your problem, it's theirs! Really, it is. They are the one in a pissy mood about something. Don't take on their crap and let it ruin your day. YOU are in control, not them!
I'm practicing this a lot at work, A LOT. My job is full of procedures. Lots of stupid little procedures that make no sense to anyone with half a brain and have no significant impact on the outcome of my work. BUT!, they are procedures and they must be followed no matter how much time or money is wasted in the process. It used to really upset me. This stuff got to me to the point I would be in tears. And then I realized something. There isn't a damn thing I can do about how stupid this stuff is, but I can decide whether or not I'm going to end up in tears about it. Now, I just laugh and roll my eyes. Laughing feels soooo much better than crying!
I hope this post will inspire you to pick one thing, no matter how insignificant it may seem, but one thing that controls you and go kick its ass!!! Kick it hard!!! Kick it so hard it won't want to come back. Ever!!! Tell it to eff off mothereffer!!! Whatever you need to do, DO IT!!!
You won't believe how good you will fell when YOU are in control of you instead of everything else being in control of you.
Control - The situation of being under the regulation, domination, or command of another.
When we feel like we are in control, we feel safe and secure. Life is good when we are in control. On the other hand, if we feel like something in our life is spinning out of control, we panic. Panic causes more loss of control and we start a downward spiraling loss of ourselves. Sometimes that spiral is so fast we can't seem to stop it and other times it's a slow descend. We know it's happening, but it feels like there is no way to stop it.
There are lots of things we don't think we feel like we have control over. The weather, traffic, work, stupid people, etc. But guess what! We have control over ALL those things. We have control of those things because we have control of ourselves.
No, we can't help whether it's sunny or cloudy, but we can control our reaction to it. We can't control what stupid people do, but we can choose whether or not we are going to let it piss us off. By controlling yourself and how you react to things you are actually in control of everything! Think about that for a minute.
I'll be the first one to tell you it's no easy feat to keep your emotions in check. And I'm definitely NOT very good about controlling my reactions to things, but I'm learning. Slowly. It's not something that can be changed overnight, but it can be changed. Start with little things. Raining today? Oh well! It's sunny in my head and that's what matters! Somebody snapped at you for no reason? Who cares! It's not your problem, it's theirs! Really, it is. They are the one in a pissy mood about something. Don't take on their crap and let it ruin your day. YOU are in control, not them!
I'm practicing this a lot at work, A LOT. My job is full of procedures. Lots of stupid little procedures that make no sense to anyone with half a brain and have no significant impact on the outcome of my work. BUT!, they are procedures and they must be followed no matter how much time or money is wasted in the process. It used to really upset me. This stuff got to me to the point I would be in tears. And then I realized something. There isn't a damn thing I can do about how stupid this stuff is, but I can decide whether or not I'm going to end up in tears about it. Now, I just laugh and roll my eyes. Laughing feels soooo much better than crying!
I hope this post will inspire you to pick one thing, no matter how insignificant it may seem, but one thing that controls you and go kick its ass!!! Kick it hard!!! Kick it so hard it won't want to come back. Ever!!! Tell it to eff off mothereffer!!! Whatever you need to do, DO IT!!!
You won't believe how good you will fell when YOU are in control of you instead of everything else being in control of you.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
I Might Not Survive This
Someone has given me some new perspective tonight on something that was bothering me way too much. I feel a TON better about a lot of things since I wrote this. I debated not posting it, but this isn't the first time I've had these thoughts and it probably won't be the last...
I'm not sure I'm going to survive this med change let alone anyone that comes in contact with me.
One minute I am perfectly fine and the next minute I am drowning in an abyss of despair. All it takes is for someone to speak to me. That's it.
Ask me a question and I immediately flip out. I try to control myself at the same time, but the kids can tell something is wrong and they think it's them.
The Boy takes my reactions to things very hard. I have gone through difficult times in the past and he mimics them. If I fall into a fit of tears over something petty, he will fall into a fit a tears over nothing. If I bite people's heads off, he will do the same. And then I feel like I've fucked my kid up even more. That poor boy. I have projected so much shit on him. What did he deserve to get that? Not a damn thing except being born my child.
Any time I think of something I am wanting to try, self hate immediately kicks in. I try talking myself out of it, but that just makes it worse. I just want to give in, but I can't, but I want to. The conflict just builds and builds until I bust out in tears. I try listening to music, but the words just piss me off or create more self hate. I try reading, but I just start hating myself for all kinds of stupid shit. Basically, I just hate myself and yell at myself for hating myself.
Of course this would all be better if I just took my new meds, but I forget them. And I don't really know that things would be better, it's just what I tell myself to make myself feel even worse. That appears to be my favorite thing to do. Self Destruct. I'm actually pretty awesome at it. Maybe If I could do other things as awesomely as I self destruct I wouldn't be so fucked up...
I'm not sure I'm going to survive this med change let alone anyone that comes in contact with me.
One minute I am perfectly fine and the next minute I am drowning in an abyss of despair. All it takes is for someone to speak to me. That's it.
Ask me a question and I immediately flip out. I try to control myself at the same time, but the kids can tell something is wrong and they think it's them.
The Boy takes my reactions to things very hard. I have gone through difficult times in the past and he mimics them. If I fall into a fit of tears over something petty, he will fall into a fit a tears over nothing. If I bite people's heads off, he will do the same. And then I feel like I've fucked my kid up even more. That poor boy. I have projected so much shit on him. What did he deserve to get that? Not a damn thing except being born my child.
Any time I think of something I am wanting to try, self hate immediately kicks in. I try talking myself out of it, but that just makes it worse. I just want to give in, but I can't, but I want to. The conflict just builds and builds until I bust out in tears. I try listening to music, but the words just piss me off or create more self hate. I try reading, but I just start hating myself for all kinds of stupid shit. Basically, I just hate myself and yell at myself for hating myself.
Of course this would all be better if I just took my new meds, but I forget them. And I don't really know that things would be better, it's just what I tell myself to make myself feel even worse. That appears to be my favorite thing to do. Self Destruct. I'm actually pretty awesome at it. Maybe If I could do other things as awesomely as I self destruct I wouldn't be so fucked up...
Monday, June 11, 2012
High Expectations - Too High
Sorry for the lack of paragraph breaks. The power is out so I'm posting this via my phone and for some reason blogger won't acknowledge line breaks. Anywho...
I bought an antique trunk last weekend and The Boy was very interested in how much I paid for it. I explained that I negotiated a price and that it is worth more than I paid for it. He wanted to sell it immediately. I of course do not want to sell it.
Later in that evening after hours of pondering how he could have more money if I would just sell the trunk he declared he is selling it as soon as I die. I love you too son.
If you don't already know, I'm a huge Auction Hunters fan, and like any good mom would, I've gotten The Boy hooked on it.
This got me thinking.... Getting The Boy involved in auctions would be a fun thing to do. With a little guidance and seed money from mom, he can buy things and resell them for a little profit. It would be a fun way to learn about old things, teach him discipline, teach him how to negotiate, how to manage money and give him a creative outlet.
Now, I'm not talking storage unit auctions because this momma doesn't have energy or space for all that. And I can only imagine the first time he opens a box of toys... I'm thinking more along the lines of estate auctions. They seem pretty straight forward, have a lot less risk and you can limit the amount of crap you haul home (theoretically anyway).
But here is my problem. The same problem I have with any new thing I want to try. I might make a mistake. To me, a mistake is a failure. And if I make a mistake with The Boy, than he won't enjoy this.
I know this is all irrational. I know that you learn from your mistakes and you'll never learn anything if you never try. But, that doesn't stop the racing thoughts of ALL the mistakes I could make.
What if I pay to much for something. Even if I do pay too much, it's not like I threw all the money out the window. I did get something and I can get some of my money back. It is only money.
What if I lose the bid? Rationally, I know I'm the smarter one by not paying to much, but what if I guessed wrong and could have paid more and still come out ahead?
I also expect myself to become an expert in everything the next two weeks. Cuz that's completely reasonable to expect.
I also like to start things and then stop them once I see any sign that I'm doing well. What a freaking contradiction I play with myself... I expect myself to be perfect and then spaz out when I see any evidence that I'm doing good. I haven't quite figured out what that is all about other than the fact I enjoy torturing myself...
Sunday, June 10, 2012
It's Not the Twenty Times I Succeed, It's the One Time I FAIL
Something happened yesterday that has sent me on a tailspin. I was already heading there. The first two things that sent me spiraling were my therapist telling me I was doing well and my new med doc diagnosing me with PTSD. I still haven't processed THAT.
The "thing" that happened was so piddly that I really shouldn't be so out of sorts about it. And yes, of course it really isn't about the thing that didn't happen, it's about something bigger than that. The one time a comment I made isn't acknowledged it means I'm worthless. Never mind the last twenty comments that were acknowledged. I have no freaking perspective. Ahhhh the life of having "intense" emotions! When it's good, it's REAL good and when it's bad, it's REAL bad!
Once my downward spiral starts, I start asking myself what is wrong with me. What the hell IS my problem anyway. And then that thought generates a whole laundry list of reasons why I feel so unworthy and worthless.
My mom's mom didn't like me or my dad. Seriously, when I was in college, the man wouldn't acknowledge me. He never acknowledged my marriage or my children. He blamed my dad and I for all of my mom's mental issues. But it was completely ok for his son to steal from him on multiple occasions. What did my mom do? Ran to him every fucking time and wouldn't stand up to him. Why? Because she thinks she was daddy's little girl. Years later she would try that shit on me. Told me Magnus wanted her dead because he wouldn't fix a bump in a rug for her. Boy did I let her have it. After I made a trip to bail her out of jail and temporarily moved her into my house she had the nerve. This wasn't the first time. When they found out we were moving for Magnus's new job they accused me of leaving them to rot away and die. Seriously?! They thought that little of me. Never mind they had both left their parents. WTF?
My mom not defending my dad and I made me feel like she didn't care about her family. She didn't love us enough to stand up to that waste of human life and tell him where to go.
I realize my mom had her own issues and that's why she wouldn't stand up to her dad. He used to beat my grandmother. Worthless sake of shit.
When I start seeing my mom as a person with her own issues and reasons why she did the things she did I want to forgive her. But I'm not sure if it's really forgiveness or me
making excuses for her so I can take down the fence I've erected between us because I feel guilty about that. I can't forgive her. I don't have enough strength to maintain "healthy" boundaries if I forgive her. I know I have to get there though. Because if I don't, this shit will continue to own me.
The "thing" that happened was so piddly that I really shouldn't be so out of sorts about it. And yes, of course it really isn't about the thing that didn't happen, it's about something bigger than that. The one time a comment I made isn't acknowledged it means I'm worthless. Never mind the last twenty comments that were acknowledged. I have no freaking perspective. Ahhhh the life of having "intense" emotions! When it's good, it's REAL good and when it's bad, it's REAL bad!
Once my downward spiral starts, I start asking myself what is wrong with me. What the hell IS my problem anyway. And then that thought generates a whole laundry list of reasons why I feel so unworthy and worthless.
My mom's mom didn't like me or my dad. Seriously, when I was in college, the man wouldn't acknowledge me. He never acknowledged my marriage or my children. He blamed my dad and I for all of my mom's mental issues. But it was completely ok for his son to steal from him on multiple occasions. What did my mom do? Ran to him every fucking time and wouldn't stand up to him. Why? Because she thinks she was daddy's little girl. Years later she would try that shit on me. Told me Magnus wanted her dead because he wouldn't fix a bump in a rug for her. Boy did I let her have it. After I made a trip to bail her out of jail and temporarily moved her into my house she had the nerve. This wasn't the first time. When they found out we were moving for Magnus's new job they accused me of leaving them to rot away and die. Seriously?! They thought that little of me. Never mind they had both left their parents. WTF?
My mom not defending my dad and I made me feel like she didn't care about her family. She didn't love us enough to stand up to that waste of human life and tell him where to go.
I realize my mom had her own issues and that's why she wouldn't stand up to her dad. He used to beat my grandmother. Worthless sake of shit.
When I start seeing my mom as a person with her own issues and reasons why she did the things she did I want to forgive her. But I'm not sure if it's really forgiveness or me
making excuses for her so I can take down the fence I've erected between us because I feel guilty about that. I can't forgive her. I don't have enough strength to maintain "healthy" boundaries if I forgive her. I know I have to get there though. Because if I don't, this shit will continue to own me.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Back Peddling
I committed to buying an antique trunk today. I really liked it when I saw it, I've wanted one for awhile and I thought it was a good deal. I told Magnus and he doesn't care.
Now I'm regretting it big time. I feel like a total ass. This year Magnus and I will be celebrating our 10 year anniversary. He wants to go on a small trip. I'm convinced we can't afford it. And then I go and spend money on a stupid trunk. What the hell was I thinking? What the hell am I thinking for wondering what the hell was I thinking?
I'm self destructing our plans for a trip. Obviously there is a reason, but I'm not at a point I can admit what that reason is. Perhaps I'm afraid of spending time alone with him. Why am I afraid of spending time alone with him? Because I don't think I deserve him.
I think I'm also struggling with the fact I bought something for myself. I usually don't have a problem with this. Actually, I do, but it manifests itself by me not being able to find anything I like or anything that fits. That and I always find things for the kids or Magnus.
I'm getting my hair cut Saturday and now that's stressing me out. I just committed to buying this damn trunk and I'm going to spend too much money getting my hair cut.
God dammit, I was feeling pretty good about things in general and now I'm losing sleep over a damn trunk and a fucking haircut. I'm such an idiot!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
My First Blog Award
I'm not going to lie, I see these blog awards go around sometimes and that perfectionist part of me comes out and really wants one. So, imagine how EXCITED I was when I received my first blog award from What Inside Voice? and The Brady Bunch on Crack!
I started this blog as a way of kicking The Blob's ass and proving to myself that I could accomplish something. But, I haven't kicked The Blob's ass alone, all of you wonderful readers kick that Blob's ass every time you read a post! And hopefully you are learning to kick your own blob's ass!
There are a couple things I'm supposed to do upon the receipt of this award:
1) Thank and link back the awarding blog
2) Answer 7 questions
3) Provide 10 random facts about yourself
4) Award 7 other deserving bloggers
The Questions
1) What is your favorite song? At this moment, anything Phillip Phillips has sang. But, if I had to chose ONE, it would be Volcano.
2) What is your favorite dessert? Chocolate cake.
3) What do you do when you are upset? Vent, drink, eat chocolate, cry, snap at my kids, and beat myself up about how worthless I am and if gets REALLY bad, want to jump in front of a train.
4) What is your favorite pet? Our Golden Retriever Dusty who passed away a couple years ago.
5) Which do you prefer, White or Wheat? Wheat. Gotta do something to counteract all the chocolate.
6) What is your biggest fear? Failing.
7) What is your attitude mostly? I need more wine!
10 Random Facts
1) I've never met a wine I didn't like
2) I'm a beer snob
3) I don't let myself believe I'm smart
4) I spent two years in a hospital for depression when I was 15
5) I love Kate Middleton and have a fascination with the royal family, but I've missed the entire Diamond Jubilee celebration...
6) I haven't had a hair cut in almost a year
7) I have a quiet side, but no one believes me
8) When I was in college, some girlfriends and I left in the middle of the night for an impromptu road trip to Chicago.
9) I am a huge fan of Downton Abbey and suffer serious withdrawals from it.
10) I fly off the handle easily (really, I do).
7 other blogs to award... GESSH! Everybody has already been awarded, but I'll give it a shot!
Too Smart For Her Own Good - Man, can I relate to this!
I Will Get Up Again - She's going to kill me for this, but y'all need to know she's out there.
What I Really Meant to Say - This lady cracks me up 8 ways from Sunday!
A Bit of Personality - She's my bloggy twin, I swear it! (I can't find her blog right now, go check her out on FB)
OK, I'm running out of steam on this and I'm feeling highly pressured (by myself) to get this out there.
My First World Problem
Now that summer is here and the kids are out of school, the kids are at home with a sitter and it's nearly impossible for me to work from home. That means when I'm not working out of the office, I have to be in the office instead of working from home. I know, it's a real first world problem. I am fortunate to have a job, even if it isn't the most challenging and rewarding thing I've ever done, it's easy and it's a paycheck.
When I am in the office, I get very antsy. The place is so quiet you can hear a straw of hay fall on the ground. Since I don't function well in quiet, I get chatty and want to talk to people. There are managers that make it their job to police this place to make sure people are working and not talking. I also have a very difficult time focusing. So if I'm posting a lot on the Facebook page, you know why.
Sent from my iPhone
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Learning to Fly
I'm still working on this whole concept of trying to be happy. I truly want to be able to have happy thoughts and not fear feeling joy
My recent time alone has given me an unexpected push in that direction. And one of my blogger friends, Amanda was in an all to familiar downward spiral of despair and asked how do happy people make themselves happy.
For me, it's not a question of making myself happy. It's LETTING myself be happy. Before you can even think about making yourself happy, you have to allow yourself to be happy. A much more difficult thing to do.
A very long time ago, I decided to quit being happy so that I wouldn't have to feel disappointment. It made complete sense, and still does honestly. If you don't want to feel something, avoid it. The way I avoided happiness was to hold on to all the pain. By allowing myself to remain in pain, I felt in control. You cant hurt me with disappointment if I am in control.
But the funny thing is, the more I have hung on to all this baggage, the more out of control I became. I'm really not in control of me at all, my pain is in control of me and it is slowly killing me. Killing my spirit. Making me a toxic person.
So, instead of being in control of my pain, I'm going to be in control of my happiness. I'm not letting anyone take my happiness away from me. I am in control of it. Nobody else.
Friday, June 1, 2012
Time Alone
Somehow, the planets aligned and I had a house to myself for three days. The kids were staying at their grandma's and Magnus had to go out of town for work.
I truly did not know what to do with myself! Of course I went and stocked up on wine, frozen dinners and ice cream, but then what? Should I use this time to clean the house up. Go through dressers and closets and purge old clothes. Tackle the garage and clear all the clutter. How many times have I told myself "if only I had a few days of nobody in my hair, I could get so much done!"
The first night Magnus and I were without the kids I cried. Balled my eyes out. Not because the kids were gone, but because I didn't know what to do with myself. I have been wound so tight and had been pushing myself for so long, I couldn't let go. It was scary. I don't really know why it was scary. Probably because not worrying is such an unfamiliar feeling to me. As much as I consciously tell myself I don't give a shit, there is a little voice in the back of my head worrying.
The first evening by myself I drank an entire bottle of wine and watched the Auction Hunters marathon. It was bliss! Just me, wine and Allen Haff. No whining about watching cartoons, no flipping channels every five seconds, no nothing!
I woke up the next morning feeling very alone. Lost and unsettled. I felt like that most of the day. Somehow I got over it. Maybe it was the other bottle of wine! By the end of the second night, I had managed to finish another bottle of wine and watch six episodes of season two of Downton Abbey. A Cousin Matthew marathon!
Night three is upon me. Magnus is coming home tonight, but late. Tomorrow we go pick up the kids. I must admit that for as lonely and lost I felt at the beginning, I thought I would be more ready to see everyone. I'm not ready! I'm enjoying myself too much!!! I haven't done one productive thing and I don't care. Instead of worrying about all the stuff I didn't accomplish, I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do with my last night away from reality!
I'm a little nervous about the world coming back. I've had very few thoughts in my head and for some reason I feel like that's all going to change when everyone is back. I feel like I'm going to lose this little piece of me that I haven't known in a long time. It doesn't have to be that way though. These few days have enabled me to let go of a lot. Im hoping I will be able to leave it all in the past. Summer is here. No rushing around in the morning, no after school activities, no homework, just fun.
Instead of inviting worry back into my mind, I'm going to focus on having a fun summer and finding ways to continue embracing the feeling of nothingness in my mind.
I truly did not know what to do with myself! Of course I went and stocked up on wine, frozen dinners and ice cream, but then what? Should I use this time to clean the house up. Go through dressers and closets and purge old clothes. Tackle the garage and clear all the clutter. How many times have I told myself "if only I had a few days of nobody in my hair, I could get so much done!"
The first night Magnus and I were without the kids I cried. Balled my eyes out. Not because the kids were gone, but because I didn't know what to do with myself. I have been wound so tight and had been pushing myself for so long, I couldn't let go. It was scary. I don't really know why it was scary. Probably because not worrying is such an unfamiliar feeling to me. As much as I consciously tell myself I don't give a shit, there is a little voice in the back of my head worrying.
The first evening by myself I drank an entire bottle of wine and watched the Auction Hunters marathon. It was bliss! Just me, wine and Allen Haff. No whining about watching cartoons, no flipping channels every five seconds, no nothing!
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I woke up the next morning feeling very alone. Lost and unsettled. I felt like that most of the day. Somehow I got over it. Maybe it was the other bottle of wine! By the end of the second night, I had managed to finish another bottle of wine and watch six episodes of season two of Downton Abbey. A Cousin Matthew marathon!
Night three is upon me. Magnus is coming home tonight, but late. Tomorrow we go pick up the kids. I must admit that for as lonely and lost I felt at the beginning, I thought I would be more ready to see everyone. I'm not ready! I'm enjoying myself too much!!! I haven't done one productive thing and I don't care. Instead of worrying about all the stuff I didn't accomplish, I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do with my last night away from reality!
I'm a little nervous about the world coming back. I've had very few thoughts in my head and for some reason I feel like that's all going to change when everyone is back. I feel like I'm going to lose this little piece of me that I haven't known in a long time. It doesn't have to be that way though. These few days have enabled me to let go of a lot. Im hoping I will be able to leave it all in the past. Summer is here. No rushing around in the morning, no after school activities, no homework, just fun.
Instead of inviting worry back into my mind, I'm going to focus on having a fun summer and finding ways to continue embracing the feeling of nothingness in my mind.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Beginning to Forgive
I have been in therapy for the last year dealing with all the ways my mother has fucked me up and continues to send me into never ending downward spirals of hell every time I have to deal with her. I'm still not completely aware of how much of my depression and self hate is because of the contact I have with her.
My therapist keeps trying to help me set boundaries with her, and for awhile I can, but then something happens, I don't even know what it is, but at some point I let her in my "fence" and I turn into a complete mess. It's all I can do to function on a daily basis for myself let alone my kids and husband.
I'm supposed to be able to get to some place where I can understand why mom is the way she is, accept it and forgive her for how horrible of a mother she was. I'm still not able to reconcile how to do this and maintain boundaries because I feel like I need the anger to maintain the boundaries and protect my sanity from her.
My mom said she wanted to "break the chain" with me. But when it came down to it, she raised me the same damn way her father raised her.
And as much as I try to raise my kids completely different than my parents raised me, I see The Boy struggle with the same shit. It's not in how I parent him, praise him, discipline him or any of those things my mom sucked at, but it's in how he sees me react to and handle things. Which is not well at all. My therapist has said the same thing about her kids.
This makes me think that no matter how hard I try to do things differently for my kids, I'm still going to fuck them up some how. And no matter how many mistakes my mom wouldn't have made, I still would've been fucked up. Everyone is fucked up by their parents because parents are humans. Hell, look at my FIL. He wouldn't come visit Evan when he was born and now he wont come visit us because our house is too messy. On the surface I see my in laws as these stable well adjusted people that raised three amazing men, but my FIL does shit to hurt Magnus. WTF???? I would never picture him as someone that would hurt one of his kids, but he has. Every time my MIL comes to visit, he lays a guilt trip on her because he likes having her there. Does he mean it? Probably not. Does that make a difference? Nope. Still fucking hurts like hell.
I guess my point is that in trying to come to some sort of peace with all the shit my mom has done and still does, I'm realizing that she's human just like everyone else and no matter how "perfect" my childhood could've been, I still would have issues because and she still would have hurt me, because she's human. The shit my mom did and does isn't intentional. She's just that messed up in the head. I still struggle with every positive thing she has to say to me because I don't believe a damn one of them. How can you call your child awful names and make awful accusations and then turn around and tell them how amazing of a person and parent they are? What makes her so qualified to know what a good parent is? Logic doesn't tie those two things together, but some how, in order for me to heal, I've got to reconcile that my mom loves me despite all the shit she has done and does. She loves me in the way she is capable of loving me, not in the way I need her to love me and can't show me in the ways I need to see it.
My therapist keeps trying to help me set boundaries with her, and for awhile I can, but then something happens, I don't even know what it is, but at some point I let her in my "fence" and I turn into a complete mess. It's all I can do to function on a daily basis for myself let alone my kids and husband.
I'm supposed to be able to get to some place where I can understand why mom is the way she is, accept it and forgive her for how horrible of a mother she was. I'm still not able to reconcile how to do this and maintain boundaries because I feel like I need the anger to maintain the boundaries and protect my sanity from her.
My mom said she wanted to "break the chain" with me. But when it came down to it, she raised me the same damn way her father raised her.
And as much as I try to raise my kids completely different than my parents raised me, I see The Boy struggle with the same shit. It's not in how I parent him, praise him, discipline him or any of those things my mom sucked at, but it's in how he sees me react to and handle things. Which is not well at all. My therapist has said the same thing about her kids.
This makes me think that no matter how hard I try to do things differently for my kids, I'm still going to fuck them up some how. And no matter how many mistakes my mom wouldn't have made, I still would've been fucked up. Everyone is fucked up by their parents because parents are humans. Hell, look at my FIL. He wouldn't come visit Evan when he was born and now he wont come visit us because our house is too messy. On the surface I see my in laws as these stable well adjusted people that raised three amazing men, but my FIL does shit to hurt Magnus. WTF???? I would never picture him as someone that would hurt one of his kids, but he has. Every time my MIL comes to visit, he lays a guilt trip on her because he likes having her there. Does he mean it? Probably not. Does that make a difference? Nope. Still fucking hurts like hell.
I guess my point is that in trying to come to some sort of peace with all the shit my mom has done and still does, I'm realizing that she's human just like everyone else and no matter how "perfect" my childhood could've been, I still would have issues because and she still would have hurt me, because she's human. The shit my mom did and does isn't intentional. She's just that messed up in the head. I still struggle with every positive thing she has to say to me because I don't believe a damn one of them. How can you call your child awful names and make awful accusations and then turn around and tell them how amazing of a person and parent they are? What makes her so qualified to know what a good parent is? Logic doesn't tie those two things together, but some how, in order for me to heal, I've got to reconcile that my mom loves me despite all the shit she has done and does. She loves me in the way she is capable of loving me, not in the way I need her to love me and can't show me in the ways I need to see it.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Blob and Other Ramblings
Why am I afraid to feel Joy? Happiness? Deep down I think I've known why, but could never name it. I've always thought it was a fear of the unknown. Felling sad, depressed, anxious and or angry are what I know. They are what I live in.
The real reason I'm afraid to feel happy? I'm afraid I will lose control. Control of what exactly, I don't know. The first thing that comes to mind is control of all the shit I've been hanging onto. I call that shit The Blob.
There is this Blob inside of me. A huge black creeping Blob. Sometimes I can keep it at bay, but the moment it thinks I'm starting to feel something good, it pours out of its hiding place and suffocates those good feelings. At first it's a trickle. I can feel it coming out, but I'm still feeling good enough that I can fight it off. But, the more I fight, the bigger the flood. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. If I fight The Blob, it fights back. If I don't fight The Blob just takes over anyway.
My therapist says I need to learn to love The Blob. That sounds like the strangest and scariest thing I've ever heard. Love The Blob? Love this thing that tells me I'm worthless and don't deserve happiness. I've been trying to tell The Blob to fuck off. Sometimes it works. But, it's always there. Lurking.
Maybe I just need to accept The Blob. Let it have it's time. Let it grieve all that it needs to grieve. Tell it that it is still a good Blob despite its imperfections. But how do I love this thing that isn't perfect?
I used to think my marriage was perfect. But guess what, I found out its not. Like any other marriage, it's had its challenges the last few years. My solution? End it. But my husband loves me. How does he do that? How does he love me despite not being the perfect wife? I feel like I have failed. Failed miserably. But, the funny thing is, he's the one that feels like he failed. He wanted to follow his dream and because of that he thinks he failed his family. And I think I failed because he thinks he failed us. I've got to let go of that. I can't blame myself because he feels guilty about chasing his dream. He has to own that guilt all by himself. Could I have done things better? Probably. Would it have made him feel less guilty? No.
Why am I taking on everyone else's shit? I keep trying to find excuses for the reasons my mom failed so horribly as a parent. People say it's my mom and she gave me life and raised me. I suppose technically she gave me life, but she screwed it up pretty bad too. I'm pretty fucking pissed about it too. I keep wanting to protect her from my anger. I guess because deep down I know she did the best she could. As much as she said she wanted to break the cycle with me and raise me differently, she didn't. But, at the same time she did. She saw me as a miserable teenager that was in desperate need of help. She got me help and I'm the person I am today because of the help. Except that she wants a freaking cookie for getting me the help. That was her JOB, as my mother, to get me help after screwing me up. But she wants me to thank her. What the hell?
Well, that was a lot to unload. Maybe now I can sleep. Or maybe I need some more wine.
The real reason I'm afraid to feel happy? I'm afraid I will lose control. Control of what exactly, I don't know. The first thing that comes to mind is control of all the shit I've been hanging onto. I call that shit The Blob.
The fear of losing control is as dangerous as the disease itself.
Fear keeps us doubting instead of hoping. Looking down instead of up.
There is this Blob inside of me. A huge black creeping Blob. Sometimes I can keep it at bay, but the moment it thinks I'm starting to feel something good, it pours out of its hiding place and suffocates those good feelings. At first it's a trickle. I can feel it coming out, but I'm still feeling good enough that I can fight it off. But, the more I fight, the bigger the flood. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. If I fight The Blob, it fights back. If I don't fight The Blob just takes over anyway.
My therapist says I need to learn to love The Blob. That sounds like the strangest and scariest thing I've ever heard. Love The Blob? Love this thing that tells me I'm worthless and don't deserve happiness. I've been trying to tell The Blob to fuck off. Sometimes it works. But, it's always there. Lurking.
Maybe I just need to accept The Blob. Let it have it's time. Let it grieve all that it needs to grieve. Tell it that it is still a good Blob despite its imperfections. But how do I love this thing that isn't perfect?
I used to think my marriage was perfect. But guess what, I found out its not. Like any other marriage, it's had its challenges the last few years. My solution? End it. But my husband loves me. How does he do that? How does he love me despite not being the perfect wife? I feel like I have failed. Failed miserably. But, the funny thing is, he's the one that feels like he failed. He wanted to follow his dream and because of that he thinks he failed his family. And I think I failed because he thinks he failed us. I've got to let go of that. I can't blame myself because he feels guilty about chasing his dream. He has to own that guilt all by himself. Could I have done things better? Probably. Would it have made him feel less guilty? No.
Why am I taking on everyone else's shit? I keep trying to find excuses for the reasons my mom failed so horribly as a parent. People say it's my mom and she gave me life and raised me. I suppose technically she gave me life, but she screwed it up pretty bad too. I'm pretty fucking pissed about it too. I keep wanting to protect her from my anger. I guess because deep down I know she did the best she could. As much as she said she wanted to break the cycle with me and raise me differently, she didn't. But, at the same time she did. She saw me as a miserable teenager that was in desperate need of help. She got me help and I'm the person I am today because of the help. Except that she wants a freaking cookie for getting me the help. That was her JOB, as my mother, to get me help after screwing me up. But she wants me to thank her. What the hell?
Well, that was a lot to unload. Maybe now I can sleep. Or maybe I need some more wine.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Just When I Thought We Were Getting Somewhere
The boy had another incident at school. This one was a bit more serious. He slapped a kid on the back. Slapped him so hard his teacher heard it and it left a perfect red hand mark. What a fantabulous way to start the last week of school - suspended. Again.
Suspension is the absolute worst punishment you can give a kid. It's more of a punishment on the parent than the kid. As I was putting him to bed tonight he said "at least I'll have one day where no one asks me stupid questions". Somehow, I've got to attempt to do work for my paying job and keep this child occupied while not letting him watch tv or play screen games. Who is REALLY being punished here?
Why did he hit the kid? Because the kid said he was out in four square and the kid wasn't even the Ace. Something so stupid, but so typical. The kid wasn't following the rules. It wasn't fair. I know how he feels. How many times I have wished I could haul off and hit someone for not playing by the rules.
I feel so deflated. We have had an amazing semester. The first semester that I haven't had 100 emails about what he has or hasn't done. The first semester we weren't at the psychiatrist every other week on a med adjustment. The first semester the principal and his teacher had seen marked improvement.
I can't say I'm surprised though. He's been struggling the last few weeks. First it was field day. He's worried he's not going to win a ribbon. Then it was excitement about going to grandma's house. On the way to school today he even said something about being able to control himself. He's been trying to hard to keep himself together with all these emotions. It was only a matter of time before he exploded. Why didn't I listen? Why didn't I give him a pep talk and some coping strategies. Would it have made a difference? Probably not.
We spent the afternoon running around to emergency appointments at the therapist and the psychiatrist. Just so he could go back to school on the last day. Field Day. $395 in doctor and therapist bills. Just so he can go to school on field day.
I have always hated field day and I still do! Even more than I knew I could.
Suspension is the absolute worst punishment you can give a kid. It's more of a punishment on the parent than the kid. As I was putting him to bed tonight he said "at least I'll have one day where no one asks me stupid questions". Somehow, I've got to attempt to do work for my paying job and keep this child occupied while not letting him watch tv or play screen games. Who is REALLY being punished here?
Why did he hit the kid? Because the kid said he was out in four square and the kid wasn't even the Ace. Something so stupid, but so typical. The kid wasn't following the rules. It wasn't fair. I know how he feels. How many times I have wished I could haul off and hit someone for not playing by the rules.
I feel so deflated. We have had an amazing semester. The first semester that I haven't had 100 emails about what he has or hasn't done. The first semester we weren't at the psychiatrist every other week on a med adjustment. The first semester the principal and his teacher had seen marked improvement.
I can't say I'm surprised though. He's been struggling the last few weeks. First it was field day. He's worried he's not going to win a ribbon. Then it was excitement about going to grandma's house. On the way to school today he even said something about being able to control himself. He's been trying to hard to keep himself together with all these emotions. It was only a matter of time before he exploded. Why didn't I listen? Why didn't I give him a pep talk and some coping strategies. Would it have made a difference? Probably not.
This is how he feels - like dynamite ready to explode
We spent the afternoon running around to emergency appointments at the therapist and the psychiatrist. Just so he could go back to school on the last day. Field Day. $395 in doctor and therapist bills. Just so he can go to school on field day.
I have always hated field day and I still do! Even more than I knew I could.
Try telling this to my son!!!
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