BABY UPDATE

We had our ultrasound today to follow up after last week's miscarriage scare. The ultrasound came out great. We could SEE the heartbeat and hear it too. Heart rate is 120. Old Wives tales say this means boy (Daughter's was always 140 or above). The Chinese lunar calendar, which predicted correctly for our daughter, says boy for this one too. All fun and games of course.

Estimated due date is September 20th. I've lost 7 pounds since last week. Oops. The doctor switched my prenatals to ones I am to take at night. They have no iron, but have extra B6. That should help some with morning sickness. But I'm to keep an eye on things and if still losing and having problems, to call them and get a prescription for the nausea.

I switched down to 37.5 mg of effexor today (from 75 last week). Yesterday was tough, but I realized early evening that yesterday's morning sickness means that my effexor didn't stay down yesterday. So that probably contributed to yesterday's shakiness.

I am off restrictions on exercise and lifting. Just have to use common sense. Oh and will have to be able to get out of bed in the morning before 8 to exercise !!!

Thank you for all your thoughts and prayers. We are officially excited now!!!!

I did telephone my mother and tell her. I wasn't going too. But there is a part of me that still wants a normal mom. And tries to get that with her. It went okay. She was excited. Only asked one overly nosy question about birth control (none of your business mom - I'll spill that on my blog, but not to you!). And then was concerned about the medication - but of course, she doesn't know all the details about that. So I just brushed it off.

Not going to tell work or others for at least 2 more weeks. Actually I plan on holding off at work as long as I can! Although considering our bathrooms are "shared" - 3 stalls in the ladies' room - someone is bound to figure it out soon. You can only pull the "I'm not feeling good" or "must have been something I ate" excuse but so long.

Encounters in my head

I’ve been having lots of strange dreams lately. Amazing what you can remember from the night when you don’t go to sleep drugged up on xanax and ambien. One of my reoccurring dreams, thoughts, panic situations over the past few years has been running into various family members. I plan ahead what I would do and how I would react.

With my biological father, I feel a sense of wanting to impress him with my accomplishments. To show him that I have a wonderful family. To show him his beautiful granddaughter that he has never, and will never, have contact with. To point out to him what he has missed and will missed due to his actions. There is not a sense of fear, so much as uncertainty.

With Toilet, the nightmares follow a similar pattern - I run into him somewhere and my mother is with him. Sometimes there are people with me. Sometimes my daughter is present. When my daughter is present, I’m not concerned for her. I know I will protect her, no matter what it takes. I am concerned about the reactions of others if they are with me. What they will learn. What they will think. I’m concerned about my reactions.

I tried to think about the underlying emotions and feelings about any such encounter. There has to be something there – otherwise why would this keep running through my head? I think it comes down to fear. That four letter “f” word that consumes my life sometimes.

Fear that he will reveal “our” secret. Nobody in my real life knows. I would tell others not to be ashamed of what happened in a heart beat, but I have trouble believing it for myself. I worry that my people will think I can not be professionally objective given my background if it comes out.

Fear others will believe his lies.
Fear because he has this uncanny ability and power to see inside and manipulate me. When he first moved in with us, I rebelled. On the other hand, he was fun. He was less “rules oriented” than mom and advocated for Sister and I to “get away with” more. He’s the one that talked her out of punishing us. But then he’d turn around and make us do stupid things – like hand wash all the dishes so we would learn how to do them, even though we had a perfectly good dishwasher. He’d walk in, pretend to find one spot on the, and make us re-wash every single pot and pan. It was like a military inspection. We’d be in there for hours. My mom sat back and did nothing.
He had the ability to manipulate mom and others. Everyone saw him as this wonderful person. He convinced mom to undergo this entire personality change. (not that she resisted). He manipulated me too – into not seeing that things were supposed to be different. That what was happening was wrong and evil and not “normal.”
He was in control. My mom may have appeared to rule the roost. But it was really him.

Fear of it happening again but more so my letting it, responding – making his words come true and “fulfilling a prophecy”
Fear my mom hearing those words (or others) and believing them – making them come true.
“Those words” – the specifics I have difficulty saying. But the words that made me a co-equal. An accomplice. A willing participant. That made mom see me as the “other woman.” That made what happened a choice on my part. Made it a conscious decision on my part. Made me the initiator. Made me responsive and the worst words “you wanted it and you liked it. I didn’t hear you complaining.”

I fear him saying those words again. Where others can hear them. And seeing the look on people’s faces as the believe him. Seeing my mom choose him again.

I fear it happening again and my turning into that 11 year old child again. Not doing anything. Dissociating, flying away. And doing nothing. Letting it happen…again.

Happy Birthday to My blog !

My blog is 1 year old today. I started with my first post on January 30, 2007. It's come a long way and been such a source of inspiration. Best of all it has helped me to meet all of you - for which I will always be grateful. So here is to one year down and looking forward to many, many more.

Down the Long Dusty Road

I have two heavy subjects rattling around in my brain and will take today to share one. Since my “baby girl” turned 4 this week, it seems fitting to reflect on how she came into this world. She was planned. Intricately planned in every detail. Around the holidays in 2002 I cut out caffeine. I started on Weight Watchers. That Christmas I sang about Mary and her pregnancy and the virgin birth. I prayed to be connected, in a small way, to Mary and all other mothers out there and to be given the gift of being able to have a child.

During the “two week wait” I was infinitely good – no caffeine, no alcohol, ate right, exercised, everything. In May, I hit my Weight Watchers goal. I was skinny and allowed my husband to take pictures of me in a bathing suit. A week later we found out I was pregnant.

Immediately after the two lines turned blue, we hit the floor and prayed. The pregnancy went smoothly. Very few, and only minor, problems. I was happy and overjoyed. I prayed all the time, read my Bible multiple times a day. My husband and I would gather in the soon-to-be nursery and read out loud while I rocked in the chair. We would read our Bible, tell stories, read about what was happening inside of me. We read every book, planned every detail and were happy and joined together in a common goal – to have a healthy child.

Betrayal and shame are two “key” words in abuse. You find them in every book on the subject that has been published. Abuse victims often suffer with eating disorders, self-injury, poor self-image and other body-related issues. I know I did. I have a very poor body image. My body is just a vehicle I travel around in. I don’t like it. My body betrayed me during the abuse. Self-injury became a way to “cut out” that bad part.

During pregnancy, I began to see my body differently. It had a purpose and a plan. My body did what it was designed to do. It reacted the way it was “supposed to” react. Pregnancy brings on a whole host of body-related symptoms, but they didn’t worry me or seem strange. Because what happened to me was part of the pregnancy plan.

I was a much different person while pregnant. I was relaxed. I was joyful and optimistic. I giggled and smiled. I prayed. I felt connected to my body, the baby, my husband and God. My friends commented on how serene I appeared.

When my daughter was 6 months old, I needed to be put on anti-depressants. Those serene, peaceful feelings didn’t last far beyond pregnancy. When my daughter was a little less than 2, I noticed that I was not happy, was disconnected, didn’t like my body and was just not doing well all around. My husband and I have always wanted 2-3 children and so we began thinking about another one. I became convinced that pregnancy would give me back what I was missing. I wanted the serenity and connectedness I had experienced while pregnant.

God has different plans than us sometimes. We didn’t get pregnant in 4 months like we had before. Actually we tried for a year and nothing. Around the same time, we began to have issues in our marriage. We started marital counseling. I started with the resurfacing of panic attacks and into individual counseling and started dealing with the abuse issues. And so, here I am years later. Having worked through a whole host of body issues, including self-injury.

This time the pregnancy was not planned. Actually it was a huge surprise. In the 5 weeks before the “two blue lines,” I attended a few holiday parties and at some had a glass of wine. I took antibiotics and pain medication. I took lots of other medication. I ate way too much junk food, drank a ton of coffee, and am 32 pounds heavier than I was when I got pregnant with my daughter. We just moved into a new house, stretching our budget. We paid off our two vehicles, which is a great feeling, except that neither will accommodate two car seats. We were gearing up for only one more year of daycare, and now will have two in daycare next year. Our medical insurance just changed and this pregnancy will cost triple what the last one did. My husband and I’s marriage is not serene and wonderful – we’ve been struggling.

This was not in the plans. This was not how I, the control freak, plan everything out to the last detail, need to have it all lined up in advance, wanted to do this. It’s okay though. I’m happy – overjoyed really – to be pregnant. I can see the advantages in spontaneity. But I’m scared. Because this time I feel out of control. I feel overwhelmed. I have no idea of the answers to all these questions. My body is not reacting perfectly this time. It’s causing me great worry. This is not a textbook pregnancy. There are complications and issues.

Pregnancy hasn’t answered all my “issues.” I’m more disconnected from my husband. We both handle stress and worry differently and have gone to our own corners to deal. I’m not doing my Bible study. When I started bleeding, I got mad at God. My husband and I both discussed how it wasn’t “fair” to find out we were pregnant at 10:30 am and start having fears of losing the baby at 7 pm. We would have preferred not to know at all. My husband called it “cruel and unusual punishment” and then he told me a short time later that he felt at peace with whatever happened. My husband is over his anger. I’m not. I’m distancing myself from God. I know I’m doing it and I know why. Because if this ultrasound on Thursday (or later) reveals a miscarriage, I’m going to be pissed. I’m going to feel as if my prayers were ignored and I’m going to feel betrayed by God, my body and everything. Maybe those aren’t rational thoughts or feelings, but they are mine. I don’t want to have that closeness to God and then be “stabbed in the back” – especially by a Father figure. (I do hope that God understands this, and will be patient with me).

Pregnancy sure hasn’t helped the body issues. I don’t like starting out pregnancy this overweight. I’ve struggled off and on with weight issues and gaining weight on top of being overweight is going to be difficult for me. I wonder when the first medical professional will notice my legs and the scars and ask. I wonder how I’m going to deal with triggering things like doctors and dentists and orthodontists, without anxiety meds. Coming off this medicine has done weird things to my body and I feel “out of body” and disconnected a lot.

I don’t know what the next days, weeks, months hold. I know I’ve got a long road ahead of me. I just hope there is a “pot of gold” at the end.

No My Brain is Not Cold...discontinuing effexor

I had to do some reading last night on "brain shivers." Perfect mentioned it in her comment on a recent post and I've discussed it with her before.

Effexor is a great drug when you are on it. But weaning on and off can be pure hell. Even missing one dose can send you into the symptoms of withdrawl. The online stuff is pretty scary and intense, so I tried to stay away for awhile. But then I just needed to know how long this will last, and what else to expect.

A few years ago, the manufacturer of Effexor, Wyeth-Ayerst advertised through its labeling that "only drug abusers are at risk of physical and psychological dependence, and withdrawal problems when tapering back or abruptly discontinuing Effexor usage" when in reality, nearly everyone who tapers off or discontinues use, suffers. Online petitions sprung up where patients requested the manufacturer to change their labelling. The current label (most current that I can find) is here and lists symptoms of weaning as agitation, anorexia, anxiety, confusion, impaired coordination and balance, diarrhea, dizziness, dry mouth, dysphoric mood, fasciculation, fatigue, headaches, hypmania, insomnia, nausea, nervousness, nightmares, sensory disturbances (including shock-like electrical sensations), somnolence, sweating, tremor, vertigo and vomiting.

I remember a statement by my doctor when she prescribed this that effexor can be tough to get off. She didn't expect much problem weaning on since I was already on lexapro, but she warned me that coming off needed to be very slow.

By far, the brain shocks (AKA 'sensory disturbances, including shock-like electrical sensations') and tremors are the worst. However, I can include confusion, impaired coordination and balance, dizziness, dry mouth, fatigue, insomnia, nausea, nightmares, sweating, tremor and vomiting to my list of experiences as well.

What are brain shocks? They are also called brain shivers or brain zaps. For me it is like my body moves forward and my brain lags behind about 20 seconds. Then ZAP, my brain catches up and snaps back into place, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. Other people describe it like this -

You turn your head or your whole body but your brain stays put for a micro second, then tries to catch up but only in a stuttering, stopstart motion, accompanied by a staccato 'zzt zzt zzt' with each stop. The 'zzt' you can feel in your head, an electric sort of vertigo, and it often reverberates in your hands and fingers. Some folks feel it in their toes.

I described it as turning your head suddenly and waiting for your brain to catch up. Then it bounces around inside your skull for a while. Also related to "Watermelon Head" when you thump on your head and everything feels like it's full of water.

Brain shivers are an unpleasant experience. I've heard them described as similar to the feeling of someone vomiting inside of your brain. Some people experience a feeling almost like that of an electric shock, the sense of having hit one's funny bone, or like a strobe light pulsing inside of your head. A brain shiver is often followed by a brief but significant sense of vertigo, nausea, disorientation, lightheadedness, and/or ringing in the ears. Brain shivers are brief episodes, usually lasting only several seconds at a time. Although the episodes themselves are brief, the experience of having brain shivers intermittently can last anywhere from several days up to a month. Brain shivers often occur upon either a shifting of one's eyes or any sudden motion of the head. The brain shiver sensation tends to remain primarily in the head but can sometimes begin in the head and radiate downward and outward. Although many doctors are not familiar with this side effect, the clinical terminology used to describe brain shivers includes paresthesia (a fancy word for tingling), electric shock sensations and discontinuation symptoms (a bit of an understatement there, eh?). Brain shivers tend to increase in frequency as the withdrawal time from the antidepressant increases. There is no known danger or consequence of experiencing brain shivers. Brain shivers have also been reported following use of the drugs commonly known as Ecstasy and LSD (which are structurally similar to serotonin). By all accounts, you'll know a brain shiver when you have one. It's not just run-of-the-mill dizziness, but an Electric Kool-Aid Acid kind of vertigo. (Quote from How to Understand Brain Shivers)

For me the brain shivers occur most often with sudden movement. I walk around like an 80 year old woman, trying to move slowly and evenly. In the mornings it is virtually impossible. Morning sickness has hit hard. Running to the bathroom and getting sick. A "sudden shifting of eyes" or "sudden turning of the head" can trigger a brain shiver. Well, you just try to cope with morning sickness without shifting your eyes or head.....ZAP....more nausea, more dizziness, more disorientation. I've not ever taken LSD or ecstasy, but this crap sure beats the worst hangover I've ever had.

The tremors are bad too. They typically kick in between 10 and 11 and then again mid-afternoon. I thought maybe I needed a snack then, but food doesn't seem to help. I look like the world's youngest Parkinson's patient.

Lexapro doesn't seem to be on most lists of the drugs that cause these symptoms upon withdrawl. The lexapro worked fairly well for me. No matter what happens with, during, beyond this pregnancy, I will not be taking this medication again. I'll go back to lexapro or something else. I'd caution anyone else thinking of going on, or going off effexor, to really talk to your medical provider first, and be sure to go into this well-warned and well-armed.

I've Got the Shakes - day 3 of 75 mg

Shake, rattle and roll. My body temperature can't seem to stay stable. I am cold and then I am hot. I am not usually cold. Lately, I can not seem to get warm. Then later I am sweating. Last night I woke up with night sweats - second night in a row. I woke up drenched, so much so that I needed to change clothes and wash off. Then I crawled back into bed and shook because I could not get warm.

I have waves of dizziness, where I am unsteady on my feet and feel as if my brain is not keeping up. I find that putting my head back and not trying to stay upright helps a lot. I've been accused of zoning out. I brushed it off as tiredness and no one questioned anything.

I have bouts of shaking. Where my jaw trembles as if my teeth are chattering. I twitch and shake, appearing as if I'm being electrocuted. My husband says it looks painful, but it's not - just weird feeling. You know that Tickle Me Elmo doll? Yeah.....that's me :)

Out of the Mouths of Babes

My daughter is soon to be 4. She doesn't know how to keep information on the "hush hush" for surprises. So obviously, we've not told her about the pregnancy yet. However, we have had to tell her that she can not jump on Mommy's tummy and that Mommy can't pick her up right now. Also, she has learned that Mommy is a bit green in the mornings. When she comes into the bedroom, she shares my crackers and ginger ale, and asks about the trash can by the bed.

I did sleep last night. I went to bed at 6:30. Daughter couldn't figure out why Mommy would rather sleep than play. I fell apart at 8 pm when I still couldn't fall asleep. I can't remember the last time I've cried myself to sleep, but it worked. I slept pretty good. Husband said he peeked in about 10 pm and I was asleep and sprawled across the bed. He slept on the couch. No way was he waking me up to move over! (good man). This morning he brought me my crackers, soda and trash can and we snuggled a bit. Our daughter came in and wanted to know why we were snuggling. She thought snuggles were just for her!

This is our conversation later -
DD - Mommy, why are you in bed?
Me - I don't feel too good this morning.
DD - are you sick?
Me - sort of
DD - did you catch it from daddy?
Me - (smiling) sort of, yeah
DD - you shouldn't snuggle with daddy - that's how you get sick.
Me - yep, that's it.
DD - (running down hall to Daddy) - Daddy, you can't snuggle with Mommy any more cause you make her sick. You must have given Mommy germs.
Daddy - (laughing) yep, we snuggled real close and I gave Mommy "germs."
Me to Him - you just wait until she tells your mother that....

I feel a ton better after some sleep. Still feel like my brain is lagging about 20 seconds behind the rest of me. And my head must weigh 30 pounds. But otherwise doing okay. I was shaking pretty badly this morning but that has subsided now that I've taken my medication.

We leave tonight for the in-laws. We are having my daughter's birthday party there tomorrow with all her cousins. I'm praying for the ability to sleep there and not too much "Mr. Green" in the morning. We shall see....

Wean off Effexor Day 1

Note to self - thou shall not google drugs and their effects on pregnancy. Thou will become scared.

Note 2 - thou shall not google "weaning" and "effexor." Thou will become scared.

I figured I'd write a bit about how this weaning of meds process is doing. I think it will help me keep track of how things are going. Plus there is a lot of outdated stuff on the internet about coming off effexor and it will scare you to pieces if you read it. I don't know which of my "symptoms" are related to coming off trileptal, coming off effexor, not taking the xanax/ambien or being pregnant.

If anyone else has experience coming off effexor, I'd love to hear from you.

Tuesday I'm pretty sure none of the morning meds stayed down. But I did take all my usual morning meds. Tuesday night I cut the trileptal in half. The trileptal is usually prescribed for seizures/epilepsy, but in low doses helps with panic. It really helped me a lot. I was taking 150 mg 2x a day. Tuesday I was jittery, head hurt and did not sleep. Then again I was worried, braces tightened and stomach upset.

Wednesday I forgot to take my meds until lunch. I took just the 1/2 trileptal (morning and night) but the regular 150 mg effexor. Did not take any of my xanax, ambien or zyrtec. I was foggy brained yesterday. Jittery too. I did not sleep at all except for maybe 2 hours between 3 and 5 am.

Thursday (today) - I took 1/2 trileptal this morning. I will not take any tonight. I took 75 mg of effexor. Was nauseous this morning and that just started clearing up a bit (it's 11:30 now). I'm extremely tired. I did allow myself 1 cup of soda (I generally love coffee but the smell of coffee was not a good thing this morning). I did take 2 tylenol to ease the muscle soreness from braces. I'm jittery and shaky. My jaw keeps wobbling and I keep shaking - like I'm cold. I'm also lagging - it's like my brain is 20 seconds behind normal. I'm a bit unsteady and uncoordinated too. Still cramping (but I'm pretty sure that is pregnancy related).

Cautiously Optimistic - an announcement

I wasn't sure I was going to write this here quite yet, but then I reminded myself how much writing helps. And that this was started for me, so if writing it out will help me, then I should. So here goes....

I'm cautiously pregnant ?!?!? I am not the best with dates but figured it was about time. I mentioned on a previous post about having some PMS symptoms and cramping. Yesterday I woke up and was horribly sick - then fine. A lightbulb went off and I headed to the store. Two generic tests later I had no answer - not a negative, not a positive -no result at all. Went home at lunch and bought the expensive test. Same thing - no result. Back to the office where I figured I'd take the third generic test (it came in a box of 3 for the OCD types like me). Positive. I called the doctor. Got right in and another positive test there. Then I met with the nurse to discuss medication protocol.

I called DH and met him at his work and told him. Big sap - he cried. :) We both were worried but excited. We had both started resigning ourselves to just having one child.

Last night after Bible study, I started bleeding. It was a very long, sleepless night. I knew there was nothing I could do. My husband and I prayed, laughed and cried. We ranted and raved. Didn't seem quite "fair" to have found out and then had bad news in a space of hours. Better to have not known and just thought it was a period.

I called the doctor first thing this morning - had an exam and an ultrasound. Thinks look "cautiously okay." There is a fetal sac and the suggestions of a fetal pole. Measuring 5 weeks, 3 days. The doctor could see signs of a subcutaneous hematoma (sp??) where he thinks a blood vessel was disturbed at implantation (causing bleeding). Cervix is closed. I go back in one week and we will hope to see the heartbeat. Until then I am to rest, no exercise, no lifting. I can work but not overdo things. The diagnosis is "threatened miscarriage." Scary sounding.

My meds yesterday didn't stay down. I cut my trileptal in half last night. Then this morning, with everything going on, I just forgot all my meds. I'm getting mixed opinions on the meds. The ambien, xanax and trileptal are all to be dropped. Everyone agrees with that. I'm weaning off the trileptal already. The nurse said effexor was fine. Doc said it was a risk/benefit. Other doc said to get off. So I've got a call into my primary care doctor to get some lower doses and try to wean off. In the meantime, I took 1/2 trileptal and 1 of the effexor. Between missing yesterdays meds, being late today, all the stress, no sleep, no food, and nausea, I'm a basket case. The next week will be very tough with the med adjustment and worry. Oh, and no more painkillers so the recent "let's do both upper and lower at once ortho adjustment" was not a good idea.

For now, I am actually smiling at the nausea. Morning sickness is good, right? Clenching my jaw and holding my hands to stop the shakes. And trying to keep this quiet at work -- although I did tell my assistant. I'm not a good liar and all this coming in late and leaving for appointments was too much.

So.....I'm trying to be optimistic. I'm trying not to worry. I'm trying not to let my brain go to the "worst case scenario." I'm trying to assuage the guilt feelings that are already creeping in - my fault for being on meds; the fact that I've not told my mother; etc. Keep us in your prayers please!

Prayer Request

I could use your prayers today. I can't go into why yet -- maybe later.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Good news - I survived my ortho appt. (tylenol and xanax in advance is good). I chose to have the upper and lower wires replaced and chains/brackets put on in one appointment to get it over with, rather than have to go back two weeks in a row.

Bad news - it hurts. Owie! Think sledgehammer in head. I don't understand the medical theory behind fixing my TMJ/jaw issues by inflicting more pain through braces??

Good news - I have fruit smoothies and homemade broccoli and cheese soup in the fridge for the next two days, which are sure to be liquid/soft food days.

Bad news - the pain meds and pain have triggered me and made me nauseous. I can't keep food down.

Good news - I managed to resist responding (to her anyway) to Mom's email (Good morning. I sure enjoyed seeing the pictures. You got alot more snow than we got here. It sure looked like Daughter was having fun making a snowman. AND her room is just gorgeous! Just perfect for your little princess. Hope you all are okay. I'll call you next Sun morning for Daughter's birthday. But you could write before that, if you want! I miss hearing from you. Love and hugs, Mom).

Bad news - my initial response upon reading it was "%^*$ you - why don't you write me?" --- followed by feelings of rage, sadness, panic and guilt. And I re-read it twice to try to determine if I ~should~ write back.

Good news - I'm no longer being inundated by emails from aunts and grandparents guilting me into contacting my mother more often.

Bad news - I'm so out of the loop that I wasn't even emailed this week about Grandpa's surgery being set and scheduled. Until I asked.....which makes me sad and feeling left out.

Good news - I have pain pills in the closet which should make the splitting headache go away.

Bad news - I have pain pills in the closet......

Good news - Daughter finally fell asleep last night so I could take 2 painkillers and go to bed at 9:30 pm.

Bad news - I had horrible nightmares and was seeing things for several hours. I saw flickering lights, got up, ran into the wall, stumbled down hall, forgot we had moved, ran into the wall again, realized the fire had sparked, sprinkled water on it, stumbled back down hall, fell across bed and passed out.

Good news - this week is slow at work so I can take it easy with the additional pain/pressure.

Bad news - the next two weeks are slow and I'm BORED. And slow at work means no money coming in, and no money coming in is not generally a good thing with the powers that be.

THE UGLY - me - my face is swollen and all broken out.

Meeting My Needs - learning to BE instead of DO

I participated in the Survivor Needs/Wants Meme and posted my response here. Rising Rainbow commented in her post about how here needs/wants change with circumstances and I remarked that I needed to revisit mine. Both what I posted on the Needs/Wants post and what I posted here. Because, maybe what I need to get out of this funk is to meet some of my needs/wants.

I need to give myself patience. Time to cope and deal. Time to process things. Not rush, rush, rush. Like I told JIP in my comment on her post, I need to take it slow. Her title says it best - "Fast time isn't necessarily good healing time."

I need to take more time for me. Read some more, snuggled up by my fireplace. Take breaks when I get overwhelmed. Not rush to solve my feelings of sadness, but just let it be. I'd like to find someone to lean on, or something that gives me that feeling. My new bean bag chair in front of my fireplace (in which we lit our first fire over the weekend) works well.

I look at my needs and I'm doing okay meeting them. I slept well this weekend. I'm adjusting to my new house. I'm snuggling with my daughter. I bought a new pair of comfy bluejeans.

I need to get outdoors more. Even though it is cold. I need to get back to my quiet time. I need to ask for safe hugs. I need to stop questioning and over-analyzing every contact with my family.

I really need to just BE instead of DO. I need to stop analyzing everything. Every call, every email, every thought, every action. I need to relax. Stop searching for some life-revealing reason or answer in every little thing.

Today I need to survive my ortho appointment. I need to eat a good lunch so I have adequate nutrition for the visit (and sugar level doesn't plummet). I need to limit my caffeine intake after I finish my morning coffee (caffeine and nervousness don't mix). I need to take a xanax at lunch. I need to take my Ipod and book to the appointment and see if it helps. (on the one hand, my music is good, on the other hand not sure about the lack of being able to hear people approach). I need to treat myself to a big tall frappucino after the appointment. I need to be preapred for soreness tomorrow, take ibuprofen and pack soft food for lunch.

I DO things well. I can prepare for things. Get ready. But coping in the moment. "BEing" in the moment is tough. I'm not sure what to do when I'm done DOing. I'm still learning to BE.

I'll Fly Away....

In the house I lived in with my mother and father, pre-divorce, there was a field across the street. In that field was a tree. It was my climbing tree. I would throw a rope up and over the branch. Tie one end securely in a loop and hoist myself up. I thought I could see forever from the top. One day I fell out of that tree getting down. Scraped my face all to pieces, but didn't break a bone.

When I was a few years older, I discovered this huge pine tree on the yard of a house across the street. Pine trees in NJ are different than those in other parts of the country. NJ has a forest called the Pine Barrens and we lived just blocks from there. These pine trees are usually 2-3 stories high, with thick trunks and thick branches. Once you crawl through to the middle trunk, you have this little clearing all around you. No one can see you, and you can't hardly see out. I climbed that tree. All the way to the top. I would sit there, reading a book, stay there for hours. One time my cousin and I climbed up and were at the top. Suddenly a car pulled in. Apparently someone was looking at the house for sale. We watched. Listened. No one knew we were there. From that tree, we could see all the neighbors and what they were doing. We could see my house. I had a sense of being on top of the world. In control. Safe from predators.

I've always had a mixed feeling of heights. If there is something solid under my feet I am fine, whether it be a ladder or a tree branch or whatever. When I was a few years older, I participated in several "leadership training" retreats, many of which involved high ropes courses. I had no problems....as long as there was something underneath my feet, even if it was a thin rope. One course had a clothesline twenty or so feet up in the air. You had to walk across it like a tightrope, holding on to various ropes above your head. I did it fine. Another section, however, had you jump across a two foot gap. You had to put your feet together and jump across this opening, 20 feet above the ground. I couldn't do it. Couldn't pass over free air. I needed something, however thin, beneath my feet.
I have always dreamed of flying. Soaring above the clouds. If I could have one superpower it would be to fly. I'd jump off a cliff and soar over the earth. I always thought it would be cool to be Superman (or Superwoman) and fly around, rescuing people.

In the childhood, pre-divorce house, I would have dreams of flying. For a long time I was convinced I could really fly. I would see my dad's creepy friend when I was flying. There is some connection there - some dissociation there. But for some reason, flying never lost it's magical appeal.

When I really, really dissociate now (not just zone out), it's like flying. Like seeing things from a safe distance. A bit fuzzy. I dream of flying for real, high up above, and seeing clearly. There is a song that I love -

Some bright morning when this life is over

I'll fly away

To that home on God's celestial shore

I'll fly away

I'll fly away oh glory

I'll fly away (in the morning)

When I die hallelujah by and by

I'll fly away

When the shadows of this life have gone

I'll fly away

Like a bird from these prison walls

I'll fly

I'll fly away ....

I think of flying like a butterfly. I've spent enough time locked inside this cocoon of darkness. I'm ready to spread my wings and fly away. Over the trees, over the rocks, over the waterfalls.

Score on the Depression Scale

Yesterday was long and tough. I am slow at work and find myself bored easily. I need a good project to throw myself into. I have cases but in almost all, I am waiting for someone to get back to me before I can do the next step. I have no court or appointments scheduled next week, except counseling and a long orthodontist appointment. ~sigh~ going to be a long week next week too. I don't do well with boredom.

Last night, we started priming the walls in my Daughter's room so we could paint. It was slow, tedious work. Sometimes I like that. Other times repetitive tasks can throw me into a panic. I haven't yet learned how to predict which it will be. I have taken up knitting again. Sometimes I find comfort in the repeated motions and movements. Other times I want to crawl up the walls. Often I can start something and then after while, I need to put it down. I painted most of the trim work last night, but then needed to take a break.

Last night I was very sad and sleepy. A long, boring day at work. made time go by too slowly. I laid on the bed with Daughter in front of cartoons, keeping her occupied while Husband took a turn painting. I couldn't find energy to care about doing anything. My emotions were all dark and dirty. I ~think~ some of it may be PMS (if I actually kept a calendar I might know better). I hope so anyway - because the rational side of me needs a concrete explanation and reason for feeling this way.

I found myself wondering if I could just disappear. We watched some crime program last night on TV and I was reading John Grisham's new non-fiction book. I found myself contemplating a way to just go away. I had been looking for the Vicks vapor rub for Daughter and pawing through the medicine bin. I hadn't realized how many different bottles of medication I had stored. I have kept unused pain meds for days after I get my braces adjusted or bad cramps. Sometimes tylenol just doesn't cut it. I looked at all the bottles and all my current medications and remembered this post. While the medications may be different (substitute effexor for lexapro and ambien for melatonin), the effect is the same. There are all sorts of bottles lined up - all to make me feel a little less panicky, a little less sad, a little less awake, a little less, a little less........

Last night I contemplated taking them all, and shrinking down, down, down, like Alice in Wonderland. Just drifting fast asleep. I found myself thinking of all that I would need to do first. Because my compulsive, organized self can't do anything without thinking through the details. Will updated -check; life insurance updated - check; and so forth. To do - write letters to Husband and Daughter; clean out desk at work; delete files on computer; etc, etc.

Before all of you start calling or emailing me, these were just thoughts. Not plans. One way to gauge myself on the depression scale is to think about things like this, see how I feel and note my reactions. Last night I could think all the way through in every detail, without feeling remorse or regret for what would be left behind or things I would miss out on. That scores a -9 on the depression meter (-10 being most depressed; 0 being neutral; 10 being extremely happy). Negative 9 calls for early to bed. With extra sleep.

I woke up feeling a bit better. Planned to get outside a bit and get some fresh air. Headed to the library with my daughter and then to get some coffee. Just us two, drinking coffee (well, she thought hers was coffee) and reading books. Then to the movie and grocery store to stock up before the next winter storm. Today is probably a 1 or 2 on the scale. It's still dark and dreary out. I could use some sunshine. But the fresh air and good food (we went out for lunch) helped. I think my afternoon nap will help too. An overly tired almost-4 year old does not help (think whiny).

I am rational enough to know that if things stay like this, I need to think about increasing the depression meds or something. (the effexor has helped with the anxiety, but I seemed happier on the lexapro -- then again it is winter, and my body requires sunshine) If on the other hand, it is PMS then tomorrow will be better. We shall see....

La La La La La La - Smurfs Up

"La La La La La La, sing a happy song. Next time you're feeling blue just let a smile begin, Happy things will come to you, so Smurf yourself a grin. "

Who remembers the smurfs? I used to love to watch those little blue critters. I hear that they are producing a Smurf movie, scheduled for release in 2008, to celebrate their 50th anniversary (they look pretty good for 50!)

I could (and still can) relate to so many of the smurfs. Still can.

I liked Brainy. He was my favorite. My sister called me Brain-i-ac. That is when she wasn't calling me smarty-pants. Brain-i-ac pretended to know it all and be full of self-confidence. It was the way he coped. But beneath the surface, you could see that he was really just pretending. So many times he would run to Papa Smurf for help - to be bailed out. That was my life. Pretending to be in control and know it all. Only I didn't have a "papa" to run too.

There was a spacey one. Or at least one that flew in space. I have never actually visited outer space or orbited around the Earth. But I am often accused of "zoning out" and "disappearing." People snap their fingers and say, "Where did you go?" I have learned to hide it better in recent years. But I still spend a large part of life on the outer fringes of reality.

Here is Grouchy. I see him as more than grouchy. I see him as resigned. His back to the world, fist tight against the rage he is suppressing. The only sign of his anger in his raised eyebrow. But he'll only show that over one shoulder. No full frontal grouchy stare-down for him. Nope, he just walks away. With a glance back as if to say, "Call me back and let's talk about why I feel this way." The smurf website, says "From his corner, he interrupts the other with systematically negative comments such as: "Me, I don't like..." On the face of it, you'd think he likes no one or anything. But deep down, he has a heart of gold."

Then there was the one who walked around yawning - Lazy Smurf. I do that all the time. I can't help it. I'm not always sleepy, but I do yawn a lot. Scientists say it is a way of getting more oxygen in your system. When I get edgy or panicky, I gasp for breath. So I yawn more, my body attempting to make me inhale and intake some air.

There is the Smurf that actually walks around asleep (or maybe that is the same one). Sleep is good. I'd like to sleep soundly. I used to sleep walk. I'd be told in the morning what I had done the night before. It was odd not remembering things. Maybe it was a precursor to my life later on - doing things and not remembering them. Having that veil of fog over so much of my life.

Smurfs didn't get to relax completely. Or let their guard down. Lurking around every corner was the evil Gargamel and his cat, Azrael. He would pop up at every celebration, outing, even. Destroy safety measures. Take advantage of the smurfs every weakness.

Toilet and Gargamel look a lot alike. Dark hair, balding, big honking nose, big bushy eyebrows, bald spot on top. Evil, evil, evil.

There are similarities in their actions and personality too. Lurking around the corner. Watching over the Smurfs' shoulders. Tiptoeing quietly around. Sneaking up behind you and grabbing you. You'd escape and think you were safe --- but only for a moment. Because you knew he'd be back again. Unable to enjoy any of life's pleasures for fear that he will pounce again.

I live life on the run. Like this smurf shown here. Mouth open, gasping for air. Fear in my eyes. A cloud hanging over me, constricting the air in my chest. Running as fast as my little legs can handle. Running from evil, but toward what? I don't know.

SNOW DAY - A Great Big Smile

SNOW DAY. The forecasts were wrong. But unlike my prediction that we would end up with only rain, we actually received several inches of snow. My husband woke up at 5 am, and like a little kid, could not go back to sleep. At 6, we turned the alarm off and dozed a bit. At 7, we heard my daughter in the other room and called to her. She sleepily walked in, prepared to snuggle. She was 2 the last time it snowed and doesn't remember it. So we told her we had SNOW outside. And took her to the window.

Her face lit up, like on Christmas morning. She was ecstatic. She wanted to go outside right away. I've never seen her get dressed so quickly. We put her into her snowsuit (a hand-me-down she's never worn) and boots (another hand-me-down). I found an old jacket. Neither Husband or I have boots, so we settled for sneakers.

Daughter was so excited. We built a snowman, had a snowball fight, scraped the driveway, and even took a few sled-rides down the hill in our yard. We watched her build snow angels. It was so much fun. I had a huge smile plastered across my face and am still smiling as I remember it. I took a ton of pictures and am already envisioning the scrapbook page I will make.

I also had a flash of a memory - but a good one this time - and those are rare. I remember a Thanksgiving we went to my Nana's. My uncle lived on a huge hill. We went sledding in the snow. My dad came out and played with us. He didn't do that often at all. It was he and his brothers and all my cousins. We all went sledding together and it was fun. I remember my dad sitting behind me and my sister in front of me on the sled. Feeling safe in my dad's arms and the excitement of going down the hill. That was before all the bad stuff happened. Back when I was still okay with having my dad, an adult male, sit behind me and wrap his arms around me - back when that still felt safe.

This morning was fun. I came into work and the other partners were here (as I predicted). Many of us have younger children, and nearly all of us had been up and outside playing. It was remarkable to me to hear these other men talk about taking their kids out for a snowball fight and to play. I am glad that these men take the time to play with their children like that.

It is quiet here now. Few people are here. Schools are closed. In a few hours the kids will be cold, wet and tired. It is turning to rain and the snow to slush (typical here). I figure the workers and kids will start piling in soon. The children's excited voices will talk about their romps in the snow. And I will smile again.

When I Grow Up (All my daughter thinks I am)

When I grow up, I want to be all my daughter thinks that I am.

"Mommy, you are so pretty."
"Mommy, you are the bestest mommy ever."
"Mommy, you are so smart!"
"You're the best cook ever. I love your mac'roni -n- cheese."
"You make the best peanut butter jewelly sandwich."
"You're a good share-er."
"I love your stories. You're the bestest story teller ever."
"Mommy, you're the bestest mommy. Best-er than N's Mommy. His mommy doesn't let him have cookies."
"You're boo-tiful."
"You look so pwetty."
"Thank you God for my Mommy. She's the bestest Mommy in the whole world."

And the greatest thing "Mommy I love you -- always and forever." (in a whisper, "that's a long time.")

Happy Post -- LIfe in General

After three or four heavy posts I feel obliged to write something light-hearted. Here is a glimpse into my life as of late -

Last night
7 pm - I walk in door to be attacked by my Daughter. Somehow this child can launch herself three feet forward and 5 feet up into my arms. I give her a huge hug.
7:30 pm I settle down to eat leftover pizza. Daughter, who has already eaten her supper and a snack, decides my supper looks good and insists on sharing. I get about 3 bites. She eats the rest.
8 pm - Husband puts Daughter in bed and leaves to go play basketball. I settle down for my quiet time.
8:15 pm - Daughter has to go potty. She comes out, "what ya doing Mommy"
I say, "praying"
She says, "Oh....what ya praying about Mommy."
I think, "that you will go to bed" but I say "for you."
She climbs into my lap and says "pray outloud."
I know this is simply a diversion to stay awake longer, but I can't resist.
I pray - "......and if You intend Daughter to get married, please prepare for her a Christian and please bless her future husband...."
She interrupts, "Mommy, what is my future husband?"
I say, "Daddy and I pray that if God wants you to marry, that He will send you a wonderful Christian man."
She says, "Mommy when I get married, I am going to have a baby. It will grow in my belly. Then you will have a baby sister."
I say, "it doesn't work that way....let's keep praying." I pray a bit more.
She says, "Okay that's enough. I go to bed now."

This morning -
5:45 - alarm goes off. I slap it.
5:55 - alarm goes off. I slap it again.
6:05 - alarm goes off. I roll over to slap it, realize I am still sore from Monday's work out. Take that as a sign that I should not work out and turn alarm clock off.
7:30 - wake up to husband yelling CRAP, it is 7:30. Jump out of bed.
7:45 - husband is yelling at daughter to move it. Mommy to rescue. I make up a game where we are late and need to run, run, run to get ready. I laugh and make it fun.
7:50 Husband is out the door, daughter in tow, with a candy bar she earned as treat for getting ready so quickly.
7:55 I'm out the door, headed to work.
8:05 I'm at my desk, drinking coffee wondering how daycare is dealing with my, now hyped up on chocolate, child. Decide I am paying them more than enough to deal with it and get back to the important work of checking blogs.

Projection of Tonight
5:30 pm - arrive at church where the #1 topic of conversation will be the expected snow "storm:.
6:30 we'll leave church and Husband will want to know if we have bread and milk. I'll tell him yes, but he'll stop to get more.
7:00 we'll get home to watch the weather channel where they will call for flurries and maybe a wintery mix.
10 pm Husband will stay up to watch news and start lecturing me about how I can't possibly go to work in the morning. I will remind DH that I grew up in the north where I drove in 3 feet of snow. He will remind me that this is the south and we get ice here, which you can't drive in. I will remind him that I could really walk to work if I needed too.
11 pm DH will still be up obsessing over weather. I'll be asleep.
6 am - alarm will go off. Dh will run to window to see what is going on. 99% change nothing will be falling because the forecasters will have gotten it wrong.
7 am - I'll be out the door on my way to daycare and work.
Noon - if it really does snow, I will be contemplating leaving work to take Daughter sledding (the last time we had snow, she was 2 and doesn't remember it).
12:05 - Husband will flip at the thought of my taking Daughter to the mountains even though the snow will not be on the roads at all.

Projection of tomorrow morning
7:45 am - I arrive at work. Normally I am the first or second one here. Tomorrow ALL of the partners who normally do not arrive until 9 or 9:30 will be here.
8 am - partners will roam hallways whining about people not being here just because "there is a little snow" forgetting that these workers have children who they now must make daycare arrangements for.
9 am - coworkers will start to arrive as partners take their own vehicles out into the snow to go pick them up.
9:15 am - hallways will fill with the sounds of children who are out of school.
Noon - partners will decide they have had enough and go home for a 2-3 hour nap.

Random Muttering

Why can't I let myself feel when I don't knw why I feel the way I feel? Why do I feel the need to suppress how I feel because I have no objective rationalization for feeling the way I feel? Why do I try to talk myself out of feeling the way I feel when I can't explain why I feel the way I feel? Why do I criticize myself for feeling anything when I have no idea why I feel the way I feel? Why do I suppress my feelings when I don't feel like I have a good enough reason for them? Why do I get upset when I have feelings I can't explain? Why must I have a rational explanation for feelings? Since when are feelings rational anyway? Why can't I just spontaneously feel? Why must I beat myself up for feeling? When will I stop feeling the desire to SI when I feel feelings? Will I ever just feel feelings? Will I ever stop analyzing them? Will my feelings ever be justified to myself/ Why does the thought of not having an answer to "Why do you feel that way?" freak me out? Why am I falling apart when I think of walking into T, and her asking "how do you feel about this morning? and I say, "I don't know, but I've been shaky and panicky ever since." Why does the thought of her asking, "Why?" cause me to come unglued? Why can't I just go in and talk - without feeling like I have to pre-plan and have answers? Why am I freaking at not having time to prepare and absorb and process things since this morning? Why can't I just say "I don't know yet how I feel about this morning?" Why do I have to think about it first - and make sure it makes logical sense to feel this way? Why can't I just feel normal for a change? Why will I hide the way I feel from everyone?

Buying Himself Some Time

Today was Husband and I's joint appointment with both of our counselors. I was pretty apprehensive. The appointment was with my T, and DH's T (a male). Yikes! Me and males old enough to be my father don't get along. DH's T and my T are married. Plus I've had DH's T testify in court cases before. So lots of areas about which I was anxious. I can keep my personal life and private life separated but have difficulty accepting that anyone else can. So when I have DH's T in court, I'm thinking, gee this man knows far too many details about my personal life - best be nice to him (luckily he's always testified on my side). And concerned that when he sees just how much of a mess I am, that we won't work as well together in professional settings.

Many, many thanks to a male friend (who is slowly convincing me that males old enough (almost) to be my father are okay types of people!) who was able to relieve some of my fears. He reminded me that men and women are different, and that men are much more gifted at compartmentalizing than us women. Women tend to let their emotions about one subject spill over into everything, whereas men keep it close to their chest. He reassured me that DH's T was only thinking about court when in court. And vice versa. That piece of advice helped a lot.

I trust that my T would not remain married to some horrid person. I trust her instincts in choosing a husband. So I'm fairly confident that he's a decent guy :) But he's still a guy. And still has the age thing going. So that puts me on edge. And it's hard saying to my T, "oh by the way, I'm leery of being around your husband. It kind of freaks me out."

In any event, I survived. Not without putting on my armor. Black, long-sleeved shirt, long pants, rubber-soled shoes in case I needed a rapid get-away. Long, shapeless sweater to wrap around myself. Didn't carry much with me, in case I needed to run out. Walked to the office instead of driving -- much easier to run out and run the few blocks between offices, than get in car and try to pull out on that street. Made Husband switch sides of the couch so I could be closest to the door. Hair long so it hid my face. Coffee cup so I had something to hold in my hands, and hide the nervous gestures and jitteriness. No xanax, because while it relaxes me and makes the anxiety less, it also makes me not as sharp. I tend to let down my guard and not as quick to react. With those items in place, I bravely set forth to tackle the issues.

DH spoke first. His major issue in our marriage - communication, especially around finances and hunting. Then me - my major issue - respect. I managed to speak somewhat coherently. Don't feel like I mumbled my words or lost words too badly. I think I was able to put a sentence together and make sense. At least no one looked at me like I had 3 heads! I zoned out twice. The first time I didn't realize I did it. Not sure why I did it. Just kind of blinked back in and realized I didn't know what had happened in the last little bit. But DH's T was still talking, and so I don't think I was gone long or missed much. I had some sense that he had been talking the entire time, so I think I was okay.

The second time I knew what was happening. I don't know what all DH has told his T about my past. I'm not really sure what all I've told DH either. So one time, DH's T asked some questions to clarify something. I had tried to beat around the bush - just give vague, general questions. My T lets me get away with that sometimes. He didn't. He point blank asked.

"Why don't you have stuff from your childhood?"

Some general explanation with PC terms -- "it all disappeared when we moved. My stuff and the animals"

"Let me get this straight, your dog was put to sleep when you moved?"

(zone out) general explanation without emotion, as if it is no big deal. "Yes, twice." (thinking to self, please don't ask me how that made me feel). I managed to give some explanation of the facts.

So we go back in a few weeks. They asked how long before we wanted to come back and DH says "one month." Hello? Do you not see how hard this is? Let's move it along a bit. So I said 2-3 weeks. Three weeks is a huge trial date for me, so we're going 2 1/2 weeks.

I'm guessing I need to bring up the more immediate issues. The ones I deal with every day - like DH doing things that trigger me ALL THE TIME. And laughing at me when I say something. I'm also wondering if I can continue the "no talk about intimacy AKA sex" rule? I know Dh wants (needs?) to talk about that. I know it is an issue. But I've managed to avoid it and ignore it for a long time now........I guess I can do the "physically present but mentally absent" trick during that session.....

Dh's responses were good. And appropriate. The Ts did a good job of drawing him out. Beyond the point where I get frustrated at not getting through to him and give up in exasperation. So I think we got somewhere. I also see somethings I need to work on. Dh has bought himself some more time :) We'll see if he makes good use of it.

120 Days

One Hundred Twenty Days

120 days SI Free

I can hardly believe it. I never thought I would make it this far. I can actually go through days now where I do not think about SI at all. Although I still have days when I want to do nothing else.

I still do not keep razors in my house. I buy the cheap disposable shaving razors. (although my husband did buy a paint scraper tool which he proudly announced came complete with a straight razor -- clueless man - little does he know it is going in the trash).

I was triggered this morning at the gym (PSA to old grandfather-type men - do NOT wear silk, short, boxer-type shorts to work out in -- it's nasty). I thought of SI, then knew it wasn't the answer. While it is a short term solution, it is not worth it in the long run.

I'm learning ways to deal with the temptation. The skin from my latest stitches hasn't healed yet. Those HURT. Amazing that my first stitches in years and years are from an accidental cut with scissors. I try to convince myself that the SI will hurt like that. Replace the "good" SI feelings with those painful ones. When tempted, I rub the scar on my middle finger with my thumb and remember.

The scars on my legs will always be there, although some are fading. They show up less in the winter when my legs are white. In the summer, the white of the scars stands in stark contrast to the tan of my legs. Not sure that I'll be "brave" enough to wear shorts this summer. But we'll see.

120 days down. On the road to another 120....

Hard to Imagine

In a recent post, I talked about how I think safe snuggling on someone's lap and a hug would feel good. A friend suggested I try some imagery work - imagining that when I needed to feel safe or relaxed. I have tried that, but it is difficult. Mostly because I don't know what that feels like or looks like.

Recently my sister and I tried to remember some good memories from our childhood. Some situation where our mother acted motherly. I really couldn't remember many.

I remember someone tucking me in. I don't actually remember being tucked in. I just know that someone would pull the covers, one by one, up over my head, then fold them down and tuck me in. I still do that to myself.

I remember a birthday party in first grade maybe? I had several friends over. Mom made little tiny pizza crusts and we each got to put whatever we wanted on them. I have pictures of that.

I remember special dinners. My sister and I took turns each week. For one supper, we had to plan the entire meal. We got to go to the grocery store to buy the ingredients, help fix the meal, pick the dessert and then help clean up. It didn't last long. We thought it was fun, but I think it was supposed to teach us responsibility.

I remember a friend and I swinging on my swingset in the back yard. We were determined to break the Guinness book of World Records for swinging the longest. My mom indulged our imagination and brought us out sandwiches and juice boxes, so we wouldn't have to stop for lunch.

All of these memories took place before divorce. I don't remember any other memories that aren't tainted in some way.

The time that my dad was running late to pick Sister and I up for our Lake vacation. Mom took us with her to run errands after an hour passed. Dad got mad and yelled at me. I tried to defend myself and got accused of being "mouthy" and told I would be grounded the entire week at the Lake. So I refused to go. Mom said it was okay to stay home. She tried to make that week special for me at home - because she knew how much I loved the lake. She and Toilet took me camping. But then things were ruined by the hike in the woods where I turned around and caught them taking provocative pictures. When I objected I was told I was "overly sensitive" and being a "prude." Later his kids came to visit - then threw a fit in the middle of the night and had to go home.

There was the planned surprise trip to a huge out-of-state amusement park. I was so excited. Only the car broke down and Toilet got in trouble for having his kids out of state. I had a panic attack - I know that now. But then I just thought I was getting car sick. Mom told me she needed me to be strong and set an example for the other kids.

There was the car accident when I was 17 and terrified. I called Mom and she came rushing over - all upset. I could see that she cared on her face. Then she took me back to my father's and told me to be careful, because she knew he would be angry and she was fearful for my safety. Yet she left me there.

The time Mom came rushing over to Dad's house, breaking the restraining order, to pick us up when Dad and his new wife kicked my sister out - started throwing her stuff out the balcony window. Toilet came too. I actually felt protected and safe. For a moment.....until Mom started complaining that now there wouldn't be college money.

The time my mom had to be two places at once. I needed someone to drive me to the doctor because I had a horrible kidney infection - one I had successfully hidden so as not to be a burden - until I got sick and passed out. Mom crying in the doctor's lobby because she needed to be there with me, but also with my sister who was having a tough time after her boyfriend's funeral. Me rolling my eyes when I told her that I had been taking myself to doctors and dentists by myself since I was able to drive and that I was sure I could handle it.

There was the time after Sister's boyfriend died of alcohol poisoning. When I saw a glimpse of pain as my mother tried to deal with my sister's pain. When Mom quickly made arrangements for Sister to drive with us to take me back to college. Then the snapping, when she had enough, and was irritated that we wouldn't eat after she paid for a buffet lunch.

I don't remember any shared tears over failed teenager relationships. Hugs when a boyfriend dumped me. Support when I tried out for a school team. Congratulations when I scored well on my report cards. I don't remember loving moments. I don't remember feeling secure. I do not remember cuddles at all. I remember obligatory hugs and kisses at bed - if she was home. That is all.

I have no memory of every lying next to my mom and resting my head on her shoulder. If I had, she'd have shoved me away and told me to "quit squishing me" or "get off, I'm too hot." I don't remember washcloths on my head when I was sick. I don't remember putting my head in her lap. No wonder it is difficult now to imagine such a thing. I know that it is a good thing, something to be missed, something to make sure my daughter never misses. But not something I can relate too.

I find myself thinking of how "un-mom-like" my mom was. Today in a store, Daughter wandered around a corner. Then started crying when she turned back and didn't see us. I ran over and scooped her straight up and hugged her tight. Reassured her that I had seen her and didn't leave her. I had a flash of a memory - my mom would have yelled at me for getting out of sight. With that, I hugged my Daughter tighter and told her "I love you."

A New Vocabulary

trauma work * Anger work * verbalization * lexapro * safe place * grounding * body memories * PTSD * hypervigilence * xanax * self-injury * dissociation * depression * goals * anxiety * panic attack * flashback * inner child * suicidal ideations * process * therapy * effexor * shame * OCD * ambivalence * forgiveness * blame * survivor * victim * abuse * rape * triggers * nightmares * prozac * guilt * voices * cutting * addiction * sexual assault * treatment * crazy * control * mother issues * healing* incest* self-esteem *grief * abandonment * betrayal * denial * wounded * SI * toxic * mind * body * spirit * self

I've learned a whole new vocabulary in the last few years. Words that were previously foreign to me have taken over my life. Consumed me. They surround me at night and during the day. I have an entirely new way of talking. The words roll of my tongue freely now. No longer do I need to run to google and look them up. Unfortunately they are part of my everyday repertoire now. I live with them. They are my everyday companion. I hope to lose some in the future. I pray they will go back to being just words. I pray that they will stop being triggers. Some of them I can't even type out above. Others I can type out, but not say. Or read. Or write in certain contexts. Progress and process. Onward, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time.....

January Carnivals - CHECK THEM OUT

Marcella Chester (Abyss2hope) hosts the January 1st Carnival Against Sexual Violence. I'm privileged to participate this issue.

Blessed Fearscapes hosts this month's Carnival Against Child Abuse.

Be sure to check these out.

Score is -1 ..............(Happy Birthday Mom)

Today is mom's birthday. I am not sure how old she is -- 56 or 57 maybe. She looks and acts 20 years older. She seems more the age of my grandparents. My MIL is my mother's age and my FIL is 6 years older - but they both seem (and act) younger.

Luckily my mom's bday is so close to Christmas that my sister and I were able to team up and do a joint Christmas/bday gift thing. So I got that obligation over. My sister (the suck-up) sent a box of chocolate and a card. When I found out, I sent an e-card out of guilt. Subtract one point for caving into guilt - add one point for not giving into the thoughts of giving up my morning work out just so Daughter & I could call Mom together this morning; hurrying up and sending her something in the mail; or having Daughter color her a picture. Score - 0.

I did have the usual, can't find a card that isn't too mushy, issue. I found a website offering cards for Dysfunctional Families. Here are some I found -

Happy Birthday! You look great for your age...(Inside card) - Almost lifelike.

Your friends and I wanted to do something really special for your birthday...(Inside card) - So we're having you put to sleep. (just like you did to my pets).

I also tried to come up with my own -

Happy Birthday Mom. I’m sitting here wondering what the world would be like without you....(Inside card)... Okay, wishful thinking over………..

Happy Birthday Mom. You’re older than dirt...(Inside card).... It has nothing to do with the number of candles on your cake. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you smoke two packs a day and have for over 35 years; you drink like a fish; you eat horribly; you drink caffeine non-stop; you haven’t seen a doctor in 10 years; and you are perpetually miserable. I don’t think you could “turn that frown upside down” if you stood on your head.

Happy Birthday Mom...(Inside card)... I’m sending you this card to fulfill my daughterly obligations. Whew. Glad that is over for the year.

Happy Birthday Mom. Without you.....(Inside card).... I wouldn't have been born. I supposed I'm to be happy about that?......

Subtract one point for the guilty pangs of feeling as if I'm being disrespectful. Subtract another point for thinking of the phrase "honor thy mother and father." Add a point for responding in my head "screw that." (at least as it applies to my mom).

I did call Mom out of obligation (subtract 1). I did not give into the temptation of filling the conversation with needless chatter (add 1). I did make an excuse and get off the phone when I wanted (add 1). I did let Mom's comment about "when should I call for Daughter's birthday" which is over TWO WEEKS away, irritate me (subtract 1) and finagled a time when she could call. I did feel a pang of guilt for not having Daughter do anything when I saw my sister IM mom that she wanted to know what time her kids could call and sing (subtract 1). I did not tell my Daughter it was Grandma's birthday, simply because I didn't want to hear her talk about making a card or calling or singing - she's too young to really care anyway (I think I should add 1 point there).

So, daughterly obligations fulfilled. And time to put it behind me and get on with my day. It's Friday !! And the final score is -1.

That Voice Inside me Says........

On her blog, Perfect, wrote a post asking certain questions that required a lot of thought. Her responses are here and mine are below -

Listen to that voice inside. Think of your own responses before reading mine. These are hard questions to answer because they make you really get in touch with your feelings, and if you answer them honestly, require vulnerability.

What make you angry?
When I know in my head what to do/feel, but I can't get there in my heart. When I know the changes I need to make, but I get stuck in the same patterns. I feel like a plane circling overhead in a constant holding pattern. I get mad when people around me make excuses or offer platitudes for what happened in my childhood. I get mad when I want to verbalize something but get stuck.
What have you had enough of? Hiding my past. Hiding my struggles. Shame. Guilt. Blame. Taking responsibility where it is unwarranted.

What don't you trust?
99.9% of men in the "old enough to be my father" category; my own instincts; myself; others; my mother

What doesn't feel right?
The status quo. I feel caught between old and new. Between where I was and where I'm going. Between no emotions and too much emotions. Between numbness and being overwhelmed.

What can't you stand?
Platitudes. People who want to try to make excuses for his or my mother's conduct (they had rough childhoods, they were abused, etc etc). Being told to forgive or forget. Being told to get over it.

What makes you uncomfortable?
Lots of situations trigger me (but I think this question is more from an emotional standpoint). Change makes me uncomfortable. Being in the middle of a "process" or "journey" makes me uncomfortable. I want to get it over with. Be done NOW. I definitely do not like any sort of personal confrontation.

What do you want? Need?
Patience – both toward myself and with others. And from others. I need respect of my boundaries. I need respect of my quirky habits and of the little things that trigger me. I need understanding and not being forced to spell things out.
What don't you want and need? Platitudes. Abusive people. People who want me to DO more (instead of "Being" more). Judgment. Pity. Triggering things. Being pushed to "get over" something. I don't need to turn back to old patterns – SI, eating issues, panic all the time.

What do you like?
Being a mom. Snuggle time with my daughter. Scrapbooking. Reading a good book. Naps. Sunshine. Swimming. Vacations. The satisfaction of finishing a project. The moments when I can relax and enjoy snuggling with my husband.

What would feel good?
A hug J I would like some of what I give my daughter – hugs and (safe) snuggles. I would LOVE to lie my head in someone's lap and have them stroke my hair (I do this to my daughter) and pour out my heart to them. I guess this goes back to my longing for a mom-figure. (not sure I could really do this in real life – but reality isn't required for this question). Relaxation and rest is good – both the napping and resting of physical self, and the resting of my mental/emotional self. Letting down my guard of hypervigilence. Letting someone else "watch guard" for a moment.

I realize that I am not the most objective person to look at my own living situation. The reason I post here is because it helps me. I tend to write free-flowing. Like an explosion of words across the screen. Typing helps because my hands can keep up with my thoughts - unlike my handwriting which is horrifically slow. I type it out before I "catch it" and overthink it. Unlike writing where I have time to think about things before they spill out onto the paper. With typing here I don't really process or think about what I wrote until I go back and edit - fix spelling, grammar and comprehension. As I cut and paste for clarity. I usually don't delete things just because they are painful or detailed. Rather I move things around because shifting the words and paragraphs helps me see how a part fits into the whole - it helps things make sense. It is how I think --- how I learn.

Last night I wrote about a lightbulb going off - about realizing that it wasn't so much DH doing something triggering, as his reaction once he was made aware he was doing something triggering -- either keeping up the action or laughing/blowing it off.

I've vented a lot about DH here lately. I've gotten some good comments. I appreciate comments. I appreciate feedback.Some comments have mentioned how a poster would have reacted if they were in my situation. Some posters indicated that they had been in a similar relationship in the past - and some called that relationship abusive. Others referred to DH's actions as abuse-like. Still others called him clueless or careless, and not respectful.I am aware that the readers here are only getting my side of the story. And while I am typically the first person to point out my own faults and take responsibility for my wrongdoings, I still realize that it does help to hear both sides of an event.

So I found myself torn and needing objectivity. Exactly how bad is DH's actions? I went into counseling wanting an answer. Well, we all know that Ts don't give answers ;) They lead us to find our own answers (LOL). Or in my case, find more facts and more questions that just confuse me more !!

On the one hand, DH is being asked to change his habits (eating, playing with feet, etc). On the other hand, why shouldn't he change? On the one hand, I may be overly sensitive to certain things. On the other hand, DH married me knowing my sensitivities - or sort of - I do recognize that I am more sensitive in some areas since beginning counseling. Then again, I would give up habits if I knew they bothered DH extremely -- and I have on some occasions.

If I firmly believed that DH's actions were deliberate, that he knew the effect it was having on me and doing it anyway; that his actions were precisely designed to manipulate; that he was intentionally acting to cause me to be triggered, - then yes, I would absolutely label it as abusive. (and I'd be out of here in a heartbeat). If DH absolutely understood the effect his actions were having on me, and deliberately said "I don't care" and "tough with you" AND refused to change after having things called to his attention, I'd label it abusive. The problem is that I am not sure this is the case.

I think DH is kind of clueless. I think that he just doesn't "get it." I think that he may be less able to emotionally relate than some others. I am not sure how to get through to him.

That's what we discussed today. Next week is the joint session. We discussed ways to address certain issues. Ways to phrase things for maximum effect - to avoid putting DH on the defensive. Ways to, hopefully, get through to him.

I'm willing to try. To try to communicate to him, in a way he can understand, exactly what is going on. And then give him a chance to change. Hope and pray for the best. Go from there.

Let there be Light

I was working my own responses to Perfect's blog questions, when the lightbulb above my head burst forth in glorious light. A connection was made.

I was writing about how I wanted/needed respect. And I didn't need someone who laughed at, or dismissed, my "issues." I started to see things flash across, with words from deep in my head, like I do when I am having a flashback. But it wasn't the distant past. It was the here and now. It was things that Husband does, his laughter, his excuses, his dismissing remarks, his laughter. And I heard "you're overreacting" - "quit making such a big deal out of it" - "don't I have rights too?" - "this is my house too" - "you need to get over it."

The connection was made. DH's actions and inactions to the triggering things is worse than the triggering thing itself. That makes so many other things make sense.

I haven't been having as many panic attacks lately. When triggering events happen, I feel the sense of panic, but often I can get it under control before it turns into a level 10, blow my socks off, debilitating panic attack. However, when it is DH who sets in motion the events/actions that trigger me, it seems like I tend to panic more, and need to reach for the xanax more. It didn't make sense to me. DH is safe. Why would triggers with him be less controllable than with others?

Now I realize that it is not the triggers, but his reaction. DH knows that his wiggling and playing with his toes triggers me. He knows that putting a blanket over his feet is best. DH knows that smacking gum and food triggers me. He knows that coming up behind me triggers me. He knows that following me around the house and cornering me in a room triggers me. Yet he does these things anyway. I realize that he may sometimes do things accidentally. But he does these things ALL THE TIME. It's like he has short-term memory loss. Wiggling his toes may be a habit that is hard to break. But when I look at you with "that look" and when I sigh, he knows what that means. I'll ask him to stop it sometimes.

The thing that REALLY gets me is when he KEEPS DOING IT. Even worse, when he laughs. He did that last night. I asked him repeatedly to stop wiggling his toes. And slurping - he was eating a cupcake and drinking milk. Actually he was chomping a cupcake, and then licking the icing off his finger, popping it out of his mouth with that horrible smacking sound and then gulping milk. I snapped at him. He laughed - LAUGHED AT ME. And said something - I don't remember what.

DH laughs at me. Tries to blow it off as silly. Sometimes he'll make excuses - "well I'm just ...." or "I can't help it." Other times he'll say "it's my house too."

Tonight, DH followed me around the house. Everywhere, with a piece of paper. I told him we'd sit down and discuss it in just a moment - I was in the middle of looking for something. At one point I walked into the bathroom to show DH something. He recognized the issue. Then pulled the paper out and said, "now what about....." UGH - GET OUT. Do not corner me in the bathroom, blocking the access to ask me something. I growled and told him to stop following me (the 4th or 5th time I had asked him to stop).

What it really comes down to is not so much that DH does things that trigger me. I wish he would not. I think that's entirely possible. I think he should have enough respect to try. But more so than that, when I remind him of what he is doing, he ought to have enough respect to stop. But EVEN more so that that, when I remind him, he ought not make a sarcastic comment, laugh, or tell me to get over it.

When that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the panic from worsening. I hear the comments of childhood that I'm not worthy enough to have my feelings respected. That I am asking too much. That I am overly sensitive. That I'm the one with the problem and I am the one that needs to change. That I need to "suck it up and deal with it."

So that is the issue - his reaction. His joking nature. It comes down too - once again - respect. Another issue recognized..........another solution to be found.....

Now to figure out how to communicate this to DH. He doesn't do so well with the "when you do this, I feel similar to how I felt back then" comments. Maybe it's an issue to be addressed in counseling.

National Sexual Assault Report Database - Project 82

Has anyone ever heard of this? The link is here. Does anyone know if law enforcement actually searches or uses this?

Yep it's Monday all right

It's Monday. I know this because -

1. When the alarm went off at 5:45 am, I was positive that I had 2 more hours to sleep. When I realized that I had to get up, I threw it across the room.

2. When my husband laughed because it was his turn to sleep in, and my day to work out, I threw the pillow at him and told him to "shut up."

3. On my, second of the year only, workout, I made it 15 minutes on the elliptical and called it a job well done. I also made an obscene gesture at the scale, declared it wrong, and refused to input that weight on the elliptical when it asked.

4. My pantyhose had a run in them. The spare pair I keep in my desk drawer also has a run in them. The extra pair I keep in my trial briefcase has disappeared (oh yeah, I needed them last week).

5. The first case I have for trial requires playing a cassette tape. No one in the building owns one. Apparently they are "antiquated." I think my daughter's princess player has a cassette tape. Hmm...wonder what the judge thinks of pink.

6. The second case for trial is one that I thought briefly of reviewing for on Friday. Then decided not too. Of course the affidavit I need has not been signed. Hmm, wonder if my client is awake yet.

7. All of the clients that called Christmas Eve wanting things done, that I put off until the "new year" have called me wanting something NOW.

8. My resolution to be better organized and more focused at work, has gone out the window.

9. I just realized that the resurfacing of my lactose intolerance is going to severely interfere in my mocha latte Starbucks addiction. Interference with my coffee is never a good thing.

10. All of those January/February dates that seemed SO far in the future when I was taking all that time off in December and telling myself it was "okay" to be out sick, are now HERE. And I'm not READY.

Off to find black (blech) coffee, some Tums, and my assistant - who apparently is having one of "those" Mondays too, given that it is quarter after and she is not at her desk............wonder if she keeps an extra pair of pantyhose in her desk.........

Unconscious Lessons - and Yikes I have a Pre-Schooler

DH and I attended a parent-teacher conference earlier this week. Our daughter will soon turn four and move up to the pre-K class. I wasn't expecting the move until fall, but the class has spots. So my daughter and her three closest friends (all with Jan-Feb birthdays) are moving up. She's ready for more of a learning environment. She's ready to write her letters and numbers. She's ready for more structure........but yikes! Mommy and Daddy are not ready.

I walked into the preK room and was struck with how BIG everything looked. It was overwhelming. I expected the conference to focus on academics - teaching the children to learn letters, colors, numbers, etc. There was talk of that, of course. But the teachers also explained that there is a large focus on kindergarten-readiness. They discussed the fact that the cubbies are child-level, so that each child can take their own coat off, put it away, and get it out again. So that each child can keep up with their own belongings and learn responsibility. Children will learn to move through a cafeteria lunch line - to choose foods she will eat, balance a lunch tray, and navigate to her table. She will learn how to line up and navigate through a hallway. She will learn how to sit still through group time. She will learn how to put her artwork in her art box to take home. She will learn how to take her blanket off her nap cot and put it in her cubby. She will learn to ask her fellow classmates for assistance when the teacher is busy with another child. She will learn responsibility as she is expected to clean up after herself, and to hold others accountable, because if she is the last student at a center, she'll be "stuck" cleaning it up.

I was impressed. These were things that I hadn't thought about. I never thought about how overwhelming a cafeteria line could be to a kindergarten student. This conference is one of the reasons I love this school and am blessed that Daughter got in. I love that the teach real-life skills along with academics.

As I sat through this meeting, it struck me that Daughter is not going to realize that serving herself and learning to open her own milk carton is teaching independence. She is not going to realize she is learning to make choices as she picks out her lunch. She will not recognize that she is learning accountability as she is expected to pick up her belongings. Or responsibility as she manages her belongings. Yet, she will learn these lessons nonetheless.

So much of this healing process is recognizing the unconscious lessons I was taught. Then analyzing them to see if they hold true, and if not then setting out to learn something new. How much easier life would have been if my parents, and others around me, had taught me right from the very beginning.

I'm struck with how fast time goes by. My little baby is now a little girl. I'm amazed with the amount of "stuff" she picks up every day. The "stuff" she learns. I'm more determined than ever to be sure it is the RIGHT stuff. The longer I am a mother, the more disbelief I have that my own mother did what she did. I can not fathom at all letting anything happen to my little girl. She may be growing up, but she will always be my baby girl.

Family Freaks

In yesterday's post I remarked about how I was worried about doing anything with my relationship with mom because of the increased burden it would put on Sister. I still feel the 'big sister' need to protect her. And the guilt (I know, I know) of not having protected her, supported her, stood by her, and taken her side. I've discussed this with my Sister and she has no hard feelings at my having continued talking to Toilet - she just told me that we all heal at different time tables (then tells me that it is just proof that she is smarter than me!!!)

So I've been thinking about it, praying about it and wrestling with what to do. Yesterday, out of the blue, I got an email from Sister. Apparently Sister is still struggling somewhat with this issue.

It started when my Sister emailed my Aunt (dad's sister) asking how the holidays went. Sister didn't ask anything about Dad - we never ask because we don't want my Aunt to feel stuck in the middle. My aunt responded with "I'm happy to hear your kids have a nice relationship with in-law's family. Its good for them. Do you ever see your mom? I have not heard from your Dad since Nana passed. I think (brother) hears from him but I don't ask."

So my first thought was that my Dad must resent his sister (my Aunt) for allowing us to stay with her while we were in town for Nana's services. Dad probably thinks she took sides. He's just another freak from my family.

Then we turn to Mom - a freak of the finest sort.... about whom my Aunt also inquired.

My sister sent me a copy of Aunt's email and a note that said - "I sent you the email from Aunt. The comment about mom - well - made me think. I am ashamed to have contact with her. Why do i need to dumb it down to "yeah a little" and stuff like that? Like people (family) will think less of me that I still allow her in my life. And why do i feel the overwhelming need to have her in my life ." Later she mentioned another passive aggressive stunt Mom pulled and that Mom had mentioned having her first physical exam in 10 years - then Sister remarked that it came out well but "why do i secretly want her to suffer...."

I was encouraged by the email. Not glad that my Sister is struggling, but reassured that I was not the only one dealing with this. I was excited about maybe not being alone in this. My ___(something)___ is telling me that cutting off contact with Mom is what is best. (I'm not sure if it is my gut, my heart, my head, God, or what?) I just am not ready to go there yet. But I was excited that maybe that was what Sister wanted and we could do it together. All of a sudden it didn't seem like such an overwhelming thing to do. Sister has cut off contact before, and so I thought if she was going to do it again, that I could just jump on the bandwagon. (okay, okay it was taking the easy way out - insert guilt feelings for wanting to let little sister do all the hard work).

Last night, I got a voice mail from my mother - I saw that it was Mom calling and since we were eating dinner in McDonald's, I chose not to answer it. It was a "hi how are you" type message. I talked to my Sister after that. Sister has mixed feelings about Mom. But overall, she does enjoy talking to Mom and spending time with Mom. She isn't really wanting to cut off contact, I don't think.

This morning at 7:45 am I got another call. Looked and it was Mom again. I ignored it. The voice mail this time was "I'm worried. I can't get you on the land line" (maybe because it's not connected yet after the move) and "you're not on IM and I've not had an email. I need to know you are okay. Call me this morning."

I was trying to figure out how to respond. I thought I would just write a note jointly to Mom and Sister saying Hi and that "I'm alive." Before I could do that, my mom sent an email to my Sister (which Sister promptly forwarded to me).

Hi honey. Could you do me a favor? Could you see if [me] is okay? I called last night and got her voice mail, called their land line and it rang and rang, and called this morning, and got voice mail. I wrote her an email this morning. I haven't seen her on line all week long. I'm starting to get worried. Don't know if she's okay, and busy, or if she's ignoring me. Thanks, Love and hugs, Mom

Talk about passive aggressive. Ugh - "busy, or ignoring her" That made me MAD. Do NOT get my Sister involved in your games. UGH.

So then I get this email from Sister -

hey I guess Ii should have asked weather you wanted to know that mom was asking about you... I know from being on the other end that it can piss you off or make you feel good. Sooooo for the future, do you want to know weather mom is asking or what she is saying about you? Do you want me to tell her the truth - 'you are a bitch and didn't follow the we, us rule etc', ignore her and tell her to ask you, or try to smooth things over with her 'no everything is fine.' I need to set some boundaries with her too about this and want to know your wishes because she doesn't deserve an opinion :) I will gladly do any of the above, I want what is best for you.

Note -- I love my sister :)

I'm still debating what to do. (Thanks to Perfect for acting as my sounding board earlier). I think Sister and I need to come up with a response and then, without feeling the need for explanation, just use it. So Sister would tell Mom, "If you want to know anything, ask her."

For now I am going to sit on my anger - not repress it. Just experience it. Along with the sorrow and confusion and anxiety. And think........

Moving from Status Quo - AKA "shit or get off the pot"

I had T appt last night. It had been two weeks since the last one, and with holidays and family obligations, no coffee breaks or IM either. So we had a lot to catch up on. And I had a lot of ideas to bounce off of her. I gain so much insight by writing things out on my blog and reading comments from all of you. Then I get more insight when I go in to meet with T and she "reads between the lines." It's amazing to see some of the things I miss. Especially because she'll read a group of messages/posts together and pick up on a common theme that I'll totally overlook.

She asked me if I had given any more thought to the bad dream. I had to remember which one. Because there is one that is so bad/triggering/traumatizing that I've not written about it anywhere. Then I remembered the one I had written about. I had completely forgotten all about it until I was skimming my posts in the lobby while waiting for my appt. I realized that I was, once again, blocking things out I didn't want to remember or deal with. At least now I write them down. But really, I don't remember the dream. Before re-reading the blog post in the lobby, I would have looked at you with a completely straight face and said, "dream, what dream?" It's a reminder of how I survived - by completely blocking bad memories so they seem like figments of my imagination. It is why I have trouble now accepting memories - because they do not seem real.

Another theme I noticed from yesterdays appointment is how often I said that it was easier to just let it go. Keep doing what I've been doing. How many times I was willing to keep on keeping on with the status quo, even at my own expense, so as not to have to change things, especially when it upset others.

Sometimes in life it makes sense to experience short-term pain or discomfort in order to prevent greater pain down the road. Today I had to have a dental filling - triggering but I survived. Why did I do it? To avoid future increased pain of a root canal, crown or worse.

In my marriage, I keep doing what I've been doing. Because to change means to risk loss, to risk losing or damaging a relationship, to cause pain to someone else (my husband), to change the rules mid-stream. In my relationship with Mom, I've seen the after-effects of cutting off contact. I watched what happened when my sister did it twice. I was the one Mom turned too. To change the course of my relationship with Mom means experiencing the pain, hurt, disappointment and anger as she lashes out in response. Accusing me of using Daughter as blackmail, taking her grandchild from her, changing the rules, having a problem with the way things have been for so long, being selfish, etc. It means that I know my Sister will be on the receiving end of my mom's pity party and crying. And while my Sister absolutely encourages me to do what I need to for me and not worry about her, I've been in that position and I know what Sister will endure. It means experiencing the disapproving remarks from family members and being judged by them.

So what do I do? Live in the status quo. Because that pain and panic is familiar? I am scared that the other might be worse. I feel a sense of guilt and obligation to keep a relationship with Mom. I feel like I owe her. I feel like I owe my sister too.....

Oooh - that sentence came out of nowhere....owe my sister. I will have to post on that another day. That one deserves thinking about.

In the meantime I have a lot to think about - My "assignment" is to reflect on the possibilities for a relationship with mom. (I think that was the wording). What outcomes are feasible? What do I want? And then to see what boundaries/rules need to be put in place in order to meet that.

I'd love to hear from someone that cut off contact (or set down new rules) with a family member after years of a "seemingly okay" relationship - not because of a huge fight or incident but just out of a slow realization that this relationship was not healthy. How did it happen? What was the result?

Welcome to 2008

I have done some "fun" reading the past few days, including Danielle Steele's latest, called "Amazing Grace." (my indulgence). One quote in the book is from a character struggling with overcoming an alcohol addiction. He says, "I still have bad days, but I used to have bad years." I am hoping to be able to say that at the end of 2008. But so far it hasn't started out with much hope.

DH and I called a "truce" for the holidays. Well, I had actually. Had just ignored things, bit my tongue (which still has a hole) and overlooked a lot. But today I was exhausted and had it. I can not, and will not, raise two children, one of which is over 30. I will not referee arguments between my husband and my daughter. They seriously argued over Shrek cereal and whether DH could eat it. Later there was another disagreement and my husband said "Ask your Mommy. She'll tell you I can do it." WHAT? I am not your mother. Be a parent, darn it.

Things were easier when I was playing super-mom, super-wife and super-employee. I knew the rules. I knew to do it all. I knew everyone expected it all done by me. But now, it is confusing. DH doesn't remember what he is supposed to do. Despite my telling him over and over. I ask him to do things and he does the direct opposite. I have come to realize just how selfish of a person he is - which totally steps on toes given that selfishness is my mother's number one issue.

Today DH's suggestion was that we go to "Gander Mountain" - a hunting store. He thought that was a good family activity. I declined (pointing out that today was about FAMILY and not about DH) and we went out to eat and then to the park. Then DH pouted because I insisted that the dog be put on a leash after she ran up to lick a 1 year old little boy and scared the boy (and his parents). There is a leash law in our area, after all. DH had to actually stick with DD and I at the park, instead of running off in the woods on his own with the dog. He didn't like that one bit.

Last night we had discussed what to do. We discussed watching TV, playing a board game we got for Christmas, and hanging out. About 7, DH checked the TV guide and declared nothing "fitting" so he wanted to rent a movie. I told him I thought they would all be rented on New Year's Eve. I wasn't really interested. He kept trying to get me to change my mind that they would all be rented. I told him to go if he wanted. So he went - came back with some shoot them up. Said "all the movies were NOT rented - there just wasn't anything good." So he puts the movie in and I start getting the game out. Then he says he can't do both - so let's just watch the movie. Fine - only I don't like shoot them up, army movies, with no plot. So I get on the computer. When the movie is over, he flips stations and asks which one I want. I tell him. He continues to flip because he doesn't like that station. I finally went to bed at 11 and he pouted because I didn't stay up with him. Oh well.........

Today, after I mentioned being concerned about an upcoming dental appointment on Thursday(dentists=triggering) and he went on and on about how sore my mouth would be, I took a xanax. That makes me a bit sleepy sometimes. Then I got DD and I cleaned up and in pajamas and ready for bed. I walked out in the living room and he was chomping and smacking gum (also triggering, which he well knows). I asked him to please stop. He kept it up so I left and went in the other room and laid down. Months ago, he asked me what he could do to help me with panic attacks. I told him that when I said I needed to "take 5" that I needed 5 minutes alone in the other room and I needed him to take over. DD kept coming in and out of the room. DH finally came in and asked what was wrong. I told him I needed to "take 5" to which he said fine - he'd put DD to bed and leave to go play ball with the guys. But then he left her in there. And came in to talk to me. Finally he declared it bed time for DD.

He told DD to go into bed. She hid behind me and refused to go into her bedroom. Apparently ~I~ was supposed to pick her up and carry her in there. At least I think that is what he sigh and stopming was over. I suggested that DD might not get any books if she didn't start minding. DH picked up on the hint and said "No books." if she didn't go into her room. She refused and he said "no books then" after which she whined and ran in there. Then he says "Okay, you can have 3 books." She picks out 4, plus her Bible book. He tells her to put one back. She says "no" and he gives in, reading all 4.

I'm finally relaxing and dozing off in the bedroom, ignoring DD's talking and crying out, etc. (typical toddler behavior for her). DH comes in and argues with me - exactly what I need (insert big eye roll here). I ask him if he's leaving to go play ball --- he had kept hinting around about having received a text message that the guys were playing tonight. I know he wanted me to tell him to go, but I didn't give in to the bait. And he never said he wanted to go or asked if I minded or anything - just kept saying, "you know the guys are playing tonight" to which I said "yep, you told me." So I ask if he is going - he says "no it's too late now" in a whiny, "it is all your fault" voice. I told him to just get out - I was going to sleep. So he leaves - I'm here, unable to go to bed because DD hasn't conked out yet. And DH is doing what he wants -- again.

13 days until the joint counseling session. I don't expect a miracle in a single session. But he darn well better have some sort of awakening. We talked a bit about the session. DH is so hooked on "being right." His comment tonight was that his T didn't see anything wrong with his hunting, and he (DH) had decided that my T's comments about his hunting were off the mark. Very interesting - he had thought they were good points before. I should have kept my mouth shut. But I couldn't resist -- I reminded him that we had met with "my" (she was "ours" then) T jointly. So she had heard BOTH sides of the "stories." And I remembered her having suggestions for both of us - not just him. His T, however, has never met with me, and has only heard DH's perceptions. So I asked DH how he thought things would change once his T heard my siide of things when we were all together. Oops - Shouldn't have said that. Because now I've just encouraged DH to see this as a "competition" that he needs to win - instead of a common issue that we all need to work together to solve. I really need to learn to keep my mouth shut sometimes and stop playing his games.

I'm hoping today's bad day isn't a glimpse of what the rest of 2008 has to hold....
Another resolution for 2008 - but a better guest room mattress. The one we have sucks.