How old am I again?

I actually got a lot done today.  More than I have in a while and more than I intended.  After the kids were at school hubby and I went back to bed to nap.  We really need to stop staying up so late.

I got up around noon, him around 1.  While he was sleeping I ended up cleaning our toy room.  It looked like toys r us threw up in there. I knew it would be too much for little one to clean so I had to put my own lack of motivation aside and get it done since little one was supposed to have friends over tomorrow.  Turns out we decided to go over there instead, and then I found out that my mother in law was coming over tomorrow so we had to cancel that too.  But hey at least the toy room is cleaned.

So later on I was talking to my mom, she’s stopping by because she owes me some money, and they were going to take measurements for a door for little one’s room, and take the too big door we have and my stepfather is going to cut it to fit… anyway, so I told her- “please don’t make fun of me when you come, my Christmas decorations are still up”.  Dead silence on the other line.  More silence.  So I said “I’m serious, please don’t make fun of me”.  The next thing she said was “It’s Easter.” I said, “Well, we’re celebrating his birth and death at the same time”.  Then we changed the subject.  I sat in my chair, looking around at the decorations that have been up since November…. almost 6 months.  I felt ashamed.  I felt like my mother was silently judging me.  That tomorrow she would look at me with disgust, pity, disappointment.  I couldn’t stand it.  So I took them down, and packed them away.  All I could think was – here I am less than 2 weeks away from my 40th birthday and my mom can still get me to do things I don’t want to, with just a little mom guilt.

It’s hard to believe that no matter how old you get you need and want your mom, and her approval. I think I recently mentioned that I asked her if she was disappointed in my life and the person I had become, and she told me that she was “disappointed in the fact that I didn’t have the support I needed to ‘shine'”.  It’s been weighing heavily on my mind.  In fact I wrote a poem about it.  The first poem I have written since 1995.

I think that had a lot to do with why I took the decorations down.  I can’t have another thing that she is disappointed in me for.  She already blames me for the fact that my kids have issues that need medication.  And logically I know it’s not my fault, but when your mom is disappointed in you- you can’t help but take it personally.

Ah well, tomorrow should be interesting, hopefully everything with my mother in law goes well… it tends not to.

Remember this weekend is the epitome of love. There is Someone who loves you so much, unconditionally, He calls you beloved. All you have to do is call His name, ask Him into your life, and make Him your Lord and Savior.

For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.

Happy Easter to everyone. Remember- spoiler alert- the tomb was empty that Happy Easter morning. ❤️

Apparently I am creative…

I have been spending the past couple evenings while hubby and I were watching TV making pages for my bullet journal. And while I found all the ideas on Pinterest (hello, I am a copycat 😉 ) it’s been fun, and I have found out that I do still have some shards of creativity left in me.

Here are a few examples…. they aren’t perfect, and I notice all the mistakes, but Im grateful for the distraction….

And this one, it’s a representation of what I talked about yesterday with the skein of yarn and emotions. It most accurately depicts how it works in my head in regards to feelings.

Today has been bleh.  I have been grouchy.  I have gotten grouchy with hubby several times.  Not really sure why, it’s just one of those days when you are prickly like a cactus.

I guess that’s all. Until next time…

PollyAnna’s Spirit Lives on….

Apparently, it’s not the act of practicing gratitude that I had an issue with when PollyAnna assigned it, it was the fact that I was being told what to do.  And apparently, I have a problem with that….. who knew?

This morning I pulled out the old gratitude journal and added a couple of entries of things I was grateful for yesterday- my daughter having an amazing day at school, her being awarded quiet seat in her after school club (anyone who knows my little girl knows that’s as rare as a unicorn for her to be quiet), my son having a good time at his first lacrosse practice, and his being nominated into Upward Bound.

And if I am honest with myself, finding things to be grateful for is a tough one.  But the other night as I was brainlessly scrolling through my facebook feed I came upon this that Lysa TerKeurst had posted:

Bad attitudes breed bad attitudes.

Grumpy Hearts breed more grumpy hearts.

Ungratefulness breeds ungratefulness.

On the flip side, praising God breeds more

Reasons to praise God.

Thankfulness breeds more thankfulness.

And a person who practices both praising and thanking

Has a rare joy that very few people possess.

Today, let’s choose to be people who give praises

To our God so we can become people overflowing

With joy from our God.

~Lysa TerKeurst

Ouch! It’s true, I can rarely see things to be grateful for unless they are “huge” in my world like the things above were.  So I am working hard to be more mindful of the things I need to be grateful for, the little things that are a blessing.

And at the other end of the spectrum is my dad.  He calls me just about every day (and sometimes multiple times in a day).  I almost always pick up.  Occasionally I am having a bad day so I don’t answer, but in the past week I have talked to him 1 time on Tuesday, he called 2x on Thursday but I only was able to answer 1 time, I talked to him 1 time on Friday and he called on Sunday.  I just didn’t have it in me to talk so I ignored the call.  he called yesterday while I was teaching my co op class (only one more YAY!!!) and he left me a rude email about the fact that I must be mad at him because he has called me 3 times over the last couple days and I don’t get back to him blah blah blah.  So I get that pit in my stomach- the same one I used to get when I was a kid and knew I was going to be in trouble, and punched in the numbers.  Now let me explain- he lives in a nursing home, he refuses to pay to have a line put in his room.  So I have to go through 2 menus, get the nurses station, ask for him, they have to transfer me to a portable phone and bring the phone to him.

So- I go through all that, and when he gets on the line he proceeds to berate me for not talking to him in a long time, that he gets my voicemail too much, that I never call him.  I explain to him that it’s not an easy process to get through to him, I can’t just dial and he pick up the phone, (what I don’t explain is that I HATE talking on the phone with all of my being).  I remind him that I talk to him almost every day, and that my brother and sister don’t talk to him nearly that much.  He then moves on to being ranting and raving about how one of the nurses there looks like his step father, and does his bandage on his hand too tight, and how everyone is sick so they have locked down the floor, and how angry he is that he has to get up at 3:30 in the morning in order to be ready every day (he only has dialysis 3x a week so technically he could get up that early 3x a week and sleep in the other 4), and honestly if he weren’t so vain he wouldn’t have to get up that early.  He HAS to shave, he refuses to use an electric razor and won’t let anyone do it for him… well he is right handed, he lost his right ring finger, and has necrotic tissue and may end up losing his hand as well… so he has to do everything left handed, and he was yelling at me about it.  I wanted to ask him how all the Pepsi and devil dogs tasted now, but I held my tongue- and let him make me feel small like I always do.  He then tells me that I am volatile- what does that mean?  I asked him, he said he feels like I could have a nervous breakdown at any moment (now let’s stop here- if he feels this way WHY on God’s green earth would he provoke me, and treat me like that – oh yeah he’s a narcissist).  I told him I had a nervous breakdown two years ago, this is the aftermath.  After that he decided he didn’t want to talk anymore and hung up.

Why?  Why can’t I just cut him out of my life?  Why do I care that he’s mad at me?  Why do I listen to his condemning words and believe them?  He is alone because he drove everyone away.  We all left him at some point- me when I was 17 I left home and lived with friends of my husbands (literally strangers to me I met them for the first time the night I moved in), my mom, my sister keeps him at arms length, his long strong of girl friends after my mom and he split up, his last girlfriend/fiance of 11+ years.  He’s alone because he’s a miserable, mean human being.  And so maybe I keep answering the phone because he’s my dad, the only biological father I will ever have.  Maybe it’s because I know he’s lonely.  Maybe I still have this need to please him deep in my bones. But why do I let his words hiss in my ear, reverberate in my brain for days.  “you’re not good enough”, “you’re doing things wrong”, “you don’t love me”…. on and on.  His words are echoed by satan day after day after day… I’m all wrong.  I’m not good enough, I will never enough……

I think a big part of that is the reason I struggle with understanding the love of a Heavenly Father.  I get Jesus.  I understand His love.  But from a very young age from my father I received ridicule, condemnation, hurt….the scars are there- honestly they aren’t even scars they are gaping open sores, that he aggravates every time we talk.  It’s something my counselor and I are going to explore- how to have a relationship with him, whether I want to, the pros and cons etc. (PS new counselor still doesn’t have a name).

I have been trying to be more mindful of that nagging gremlin voice in my head that convinces me that all the bad thoughts are true- but as much as I notice the gremlin, I am still listening to him.

Another thing that my counselor and I talked about today is the fact that I can’t understand emotions.  I get the extremes- happy/joyful and angry/irritable/sad/anxious.  But everything in between I don’t get it. We were talking about her wanting me to track my moods.  I told her I have been, since the first of the year, but that I am struggling right now, because I don’t really know WHAT I feel.  The best I can explain is blah. She said that’s depression.  I guess you don’t have to be angry/irritable or crying to be depressed.  I told her for me it’s like a skein of yarn that you are trying to unravel because it’s all tangled.  I have one end untangled in a small ball and that’s happy/joyful and the other end has some untangled and rolled in to a ball and that’s angry/sad/anxious and the two are connected with this huge mess of string between them that’s everything else, and that being in the middle is confusing and uncomfortable for me.  That I would rather stay where it’s ordered, comfortable (because of familiarity not because it’s comfortable) even if that means I am sad and angry.  This blah business is hard.

Well I guess that’s all for this time.  At least I had something good to say.  Something positive to share. And I think that this new counselor and I are going to get along good- she doesn’t touch door knobs either 😉

Until next time…

Been a while again…

Sometimes coming back to write is hard.  For so long it was the same thing day in and day out.  I was angry, irritable and grouchy or I was sad.  I was yelling or I was crying.   I was resenting my life, wishing for a new one.  Playing the “if only” game.  Angry at our circumstances, angry at the world.

The past week there has been a tiny shift.  Almost imperceptible.  I wasn’t angry every day, I wasn’t sad every day.  I didn’t cry every day. Am I still depressed, yes.  Am I still angry/sad yes.  But I am not as deep in the pit as I was.  Will it last? I don’t know.  I don’t have any expectations for that anymore, I always thought I would have been “better” by now.

My new counselor is great.  I can’t even describe what it is I like about her, but she seems to get me.  She listens to me, she gives me homework assignments that I can actually do- the first time was watch “What about Bob?”, and this week it was to watch “Comedians, in cars, getting coffee”.  Really funny! She also had me read a book called, “Taming your Gremlin”.  It talks about the little voice inside of you, the one who tells you that you can’t do something, that you are a failure, that you are a loser… all the negative thoughts, that it’s a gremlin, who’s sole job is to make you feel awful. It was a great book, it gave me a lot to think about.  It talks about mindfulness, about just noticing that voice, not fighting against that gremlin.

And I have to say, as I was reading the book, it was a lot to take in, a lot to think about.  BUT I did take something from it.  I have noticed the gremlin’s voice a couple times.  It hasn’t helped me not believe the lies, but I notice- and that’s progress.

I found some old letters, and a scrapbook from when my husband and I were first together.  I found some things I had written, and I was reminded of my love for writing.  It got me thinking about my dream to write a novel.  My dream to be an author.  I started dreaming again, but of course the gremlin had to throw in its two cents and tell me I am not good enough, no way I am going to be successful, that I just can’t do it.

I start DBT group therapy in a couple weeks, (dialectical behavioral therapy).  I am looking forward to seeing what it’s all about, but at the same time I am nervous, I’m not great with groups of people.

Tonight my oldest is at his first school dance.  It’s so hard to believe he’s in high school, time passes so quickly.

It’s nice to not have posted so much doom and gloom for once.

Until next time….

Broke, broken, all the same to me.

I feel like a broken record when I come here and post.  I feel tired, that bone weary weighing you down tired.  I am sick of being broke.  I am sick of everything being so hard all the time.  I am tired of life in general. I am sick of being me.  We have 3 beater cars, all in terrible shape, and no money to fix them, but the are necessary to get to all our appointments etc.  I feel like we are never going to get out of this mess we are in.

Hubby talked to a lawyer last week and he said he couldn’t help him, but referred him to another firm that probably could.  That lawyer was supposed to call Friday, today at the latest…. no call. Of course.  This is just another hit.

I literally feel like I am being beaten with a baseball bat- thwap hit to the back, thwap hit to the gut, thwap to the legs and I fall, thwap, thwap, thwap.  I feel beaten and broken. I don’t know how much more I can take.  I know people say that all the time, but I am just so beat down.

We are due for a 2 day winter storm starting tomorrow- they already cancelled my counseling appointment for tomorrow morning, and I needed that SO BAD.  I have med management tomorrow afternoon and I am worried they will cancel that too.

Well I have to get my kids to bed so I can mope in peace.

Hiding…

I’ve been doing my best to “hide” at home leaving only when I HAVE to. I legitimately do not understand why people have such a fit over that. Why do I have to go to social events if they are only going to make me feel worse? Why do I have to be around others (even friends and family) when I’m just going to have to pretend all is well when it really is anything but? Why is it so bad to close myself off from a world that’s harsh, bright, and cruel at times?

As long as I am fulfilling my obligations to my appointments and my kids appointments, then I think I should be able to hide in my house where I’m comfortable, where the germs are my own and my family’s, where I don’t have to paste on a smile and pretend everything is “ok”.

So does anyone know “why”?

A Memory….

I have spent a lot of time thinking about the text I sent to my mother asking her if she was disappointed in me, and her answer.  And it’s brought up a lot of feelings, and memories.

I spent most of my childhood, trying to please people (heck if I am honest I have spent most of my adulthood doing the same thing).  I have to be the rescuer, if I help people, they will love me.  If I do this or that they will be proud of me- and love me.

When I was little I loved to sing.  I watched Star Search faithfully.  I wanted to be a singer when I grew up.  I wish I could say that people forgot to tell me I wasn’t very good- because they did tell me.  My parents told me I wasn’t good enough for Star Search.  The kids at school made it obvious.  I have never lost my love of singing.  I sing everything.  All the time.  But I am very conscious about who hears me.  I haven’t forgotten that I am no good at it. Even at church my worship is muted.

When I was ten years old as a family we went on a Caribbean cruise my dad won as a bonus from work. It was an amazing trip for a 10 year old.  I have some really good memories from that week, but I also have some very sad, dark moments from that trip.  And the more I think about the trip the more it’s marred by these memories that pop up… But only one of those moments is what I wanted to write about today.

The cruise was full.  Looking at the capacity of the ship online, there was over one-thousand people on the boat. Every night there was entertainment.  One night it was advertised there would be a talent show.  I secretly registered.  I didn’t tell my mom until just before we left the cabin for the show and I didn’t tell my dad until I was called up on stage. It was a disaster, I looked out into the audience and I froze, I missed start, and started behind the band.  I was off-key.  Since I didn’t start on time the band ended before I had sung the entire song.

Over the years it became a big joke in my family that I had done this.  My off-key singing, my exit off the stage to tell them I hadn’t finished, my deer in the headlights look as the music started.  All a big joke.  But what I wanted most of all from all of that?  My parents to be proud of me.  If you were to ask them- they’d say they were, they told me they couldn’t believe I would do that in front of so many people.  But they still made fun of me.  The mixed messages over the years has made it one of the single most embarrassing moments in my entire life. Instead of me feeling a sense of pride, instead of remembering my parents being proud, I remember them telling people about it, and getting a good laugh at my goof ups.  I can’t even tell you how many people they relayed the story to over the years in such a way that made me want to crawl under a rock.  Everything I tried to do that I messed up on became fodder not just for the kids at school, but by my own family.  It’s just another memory of not being good enough.  I think about it whenever I sing.

It’s no wonder I don’t take risks.  I don’t do anything unless I know I will be successful.  I don’t do anything that I might make a mistake at.  People will laugh.  People will make fun. People will remember.  Remind me of my grandmother.  My dad’s mother and I were close.  She was the one person that loved me best.  And loved me just the way I am.  I had a poster in my room that she loved, and I gave to her on one of her visits.  It was a monkey, and under him said “when I do right no one remembers, but when I do wrong- no one forgets”. Truer words were never spoken.

While my love of singing hasn’t left my heart, I’d rather die than sing in front of people unless they are the people closest to me in the world- and I will join in with others in public, but I won’t belt it out- that 10 year old girl reminds me every time I open my mouth to sing that people will ridicule me…..

Social Media

A couple months ago, I don’t know maybe back in October or so, I took a break from Facebook, I was finding myself feeling more and more envious, more and more depressed, more and more resentful, of the things I was seeing on my newsfeed.  People’s highlight reels were making my behind the scenes look like a hot mess, made me feel even more poor than we are, even more like I was failing my children.

Then come around Christmas – maybe before- I reactivated my account.  I was ok for a little while.  It was nice to see what was going on with my friends and family again.  But then the feelings started creeping back in.  The jealousy, the resentment, the envy, the sadness.

Today I was scrolling through my newsfeed, and I found myself LOOKING for things to make me feel those feelings.  Looking at specific people’s newsfeeds knowing what I saw would make me sad or jealous, or resentful.  I don’t understand why.  Why do I go to places I know will made me hurt?  Am I a sadist?  Do I want to hurt? Do I want to be sad?

This weekend little one is away at her grandparents’ house. Big one is home, and we had a huge blowout this morning, of course.  Hubby and I should go on a date, we talked about it, we didn’t find a movie we wanted to see, but after the news of the disability- we just didn’t feel like it.  We watched some tv- Community and then I slept for a good portion of the afternoon- even though I slept till 9:40 this morning, and had slept 8.5 hours last night.

I wish I wanted to go out.  I wish I wanted to do something fun.  I wish I knew what I would enjoy.  My 40th birthday is coming up.  Before the disability thing I told hubby I wanted to do something memorable- I didn’t know what, but something special and memorable, because I am dreading it I wanted to make it special.  But now, we don’t have the money to do anything at all, and I am remembering that every birthday is a shit show.  So now I told hubby I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to even celebrate at all.  If we stay home, and half-assed celebrate, it will just be “sad”.  So I would rather just let it go.  I don’t want to turn 40 so let’s let the day pass without fanfare.  Why don’t I want to turn forty?  Because to me it feels “old”.  It feels like my life is closer to being over than not.  It feels like it’s too late for any dreams.  It’s too late to make enough changes that I could have the life I want.  I know some people disagree, but from where I am standing my life outlook looks pretty bleak.

 

So tired

I am not talking about physically tired- though I guess I am that too- I am talking about a weariness that has settled deep into my soul.  A bone crushing exhaustion that comes from years of fighting.

I am tired of everything always being so hard.   I understand we all have our crosses to bear, our difficulties to get through, but anyone who knows us can and will tell you that we have had more than our fair share.  We have had to fight and jump hurdles for the past 20+ years.  My dad said tonight (when I told him hubby was denied disability and now we have to hire a lawyer) that we are going to get tired of jumping over hurdles.  My response to him was “Dad, I am already tired of jumping over hurdles I am crawling under them”

I have spent most of the week oscillating between angry/irritated and sad, not just sad, I don’t even know what the word is.  That word that means that everything and anything can make you cry.  I used to never cry, now I cry every single day.  It can be a song, it can be the way someone says something to me, it can be anything at all.  I am so tired of being so unhappy all the time.

Will it ever get better, because from this vantage point, I don’t feel like it will ever get any better- ever….