So, I'm not pregnant. One thing off my plate and truth be told I am relieved, but there is the part of me that is heartbroken. I'm working hard to keep that a very small part, but it's not. I make no secret of the fact that I very much would love another child... after talking with J last night I doubt very much that it will ever come to pass. I guess I'm now mourning the loss of the chance of having more. He's too scared we'd end up with a special needs child and that I'd die just having the child. Understandable concerns, but I don't believe in being ruled by fear. I'm considering getting my tubes tied nonetheless. Then no one has to to worry about anything. Hell, I'd get the whole thing removed if I could. But I still want more. *sigh*
God knows I don't want to render myself infertile... I'm just reacting out loud... I just don't know what to do lately. I'm so lost and scared and just need a fucking hug right now.
20.5.11
17.5.11
what can i say?
Life is just falling apart for me. I'm stressed beyond all barriers and I don't know what to do. I'm feeling horribly alone lately. L is acting out and making life miserable. He got kicked off the bus and thankfully I'm unemployed because who else is gonna pick him up from school. I'm tired of him throwing attitude at me every day and everyone seems to have an opinion on how to deal with it when all I want is someone to LISTEN. I want to be able to bitch without someone saying "you know what you should do..." or some other condescending variation that involves some insight that should help with him when they aren't his parent and haven't dealt with him everyday since his birth. His ODD has been worse than ever lately. I like to think I got through to him yesterday, but somehow I doubt it. He just doesn't listen to me and I don't want to resort to corporal punishment to get my point across. I'm completely against it. Unfortunately, I'm running out of options. Telling him how disappointed I am in him only gets me a resentful glare nowadays.
I'm also freaking out because I might be pregnant. So much for drunken sex, right? I can't believe I'm in this position. I feel like such a disgusting whore for it too. J is pulling away and I don't know what to think. He knows there could be a baby, and still he is just increasingly distant. I'm feeling completely alone in this and I don't know what to do.
The last reason I have for feeling so alone is my mother. I keep trying to please her and I never will. I will never make her proud of me. I often find myself wondering what it's like to have a mother who loves you unconditionally, who supports you unconditionally and who accepts you make mistakes, but loves you anyways. I've never had that. I've never had anyone really care about me the way a mom should. I'm terrified I'm going to be just as bad a mom as she's been. I find myself hating her and I feel even worse about it, but it's true. Every time I talk to her, I end up feeling worse about myself than I did before I talked to her. I'm trapped in my own vicious circle and I just want to be able to be strong enough to just walk away and never need a mom again, but I'm weak and keep on wishing for this mother that's never going to happen. I want the kind of mom who sends you little cards saying I love you or care packages cause she knows I've had a shitty week/month/year but that's just not in the cards for me. I get the distant mom who thinks my brother P can do no wrong and thinks my brother B is the tortured artist of amazing promise. I find myself wondering what that must be like... especially P's position. How amazing that must be to have a mom who loves you no matter what, who thinks the sun shines out your ass and who would do anything for you... I feel like I've never had any of that. I'm the perenial fuck-up who can't do anything right. I'm the ingrate who should be grateful for back-handed affection that is full of barbs. Barbs that fuck me over psychologically for weeks at a time and make me feel like the loneliest person on the fucking planet. I'm alone. And it fucking sucks. I want a group of friends that can make me a family, but I'll still end up spending Thanksgiving and Christmas alone. I keep trying to make little families every where, but regardless, they all have families of their own... with siblings that love to see them and parents who ask about their lives with genuine interest. This stupid picture of domestic bliss that I'm horribly jealous of. I'm horribly foolish to be so jealous, but it's just me being starved for affection and being unable to do anything about it. I try to shower L with the affection I never got, but that never seems to help me feel any better. The best part is, if my mother ever read this, she would crucify me for it. She would use every guilt trip inducing comment in her arsenal to make me feel ashamed for having written something like this about her. Thankfully, no one reads this anyways.
I'm also freaking out because I might be pregnant. So much for drunken sex, right? I can't believe I'm in this position. I feel like such a disgusting whore for it too. J is pulling away and I don't know what to think. He knows there could be a baby, and still he is just increasingly distant. I'm feeling completely alone in this and I don't know what to do.
The last reason I have for feeling so alone is my mother. I keep trying to please her and I never will. I will never make her proud of me. I often find myself wondering what it's like to have a mother who loves you unconditionally, who supports you unconditionally and who accepts you make mistakes, but loves you anyways. I've never had that. I've never had anyone really care about me the way a mom should. I'm terrified I'm going to be just as bad a mom as she's been. I find myself hating her and I feel even worse about it, but it's true. Every time I talk to her, I end up feeling worse about myself than I did before I talked to her. I'm trapped in my own vicious circle and I just want to be able to be strong enough to just walk away and never need a mom again, but I'm weak and keep on wishing for this mother that's never going to happen. I want the kind of mom who sends you little cards saying I love you or care packages cause she knows I've had a shitty week/month/year but that's just not in the cards for me. I get the distant mom who thinks my brother P can do no wrong and thinks my brother B is the tortured artist of amazing promise. I find myself wondering what that must be like... especially P's position. How amazing that must be to have a mom who loves you no matter what, who thinks the sun shines out your ass and who would do anything for you... I feel like I've never had any of that. I'm the perenial fuck-up who can't do anything right. I'm the ingrate who should be grateful for back-handed affection that is full of barbs. Barbs that fuck me over psychologically for weeks at a time and make me feel like the loneliest person on the fucking planet. I'm alone. And it fucking sucks. I want a group of friends that can make me a family, but I'll still end up spending Thanksgiving and Christmas alone. I keep trying to make little families every where, but regardless, they all have families of their own... with siblings that love to see them and parents who ask about their lives with genuine interest. This stupid picture of domestic bliss that I'm horribly jealous of. I'm horribly foolish to be so jealous, but it's just me being starved for affection and being unable to do anything about it. I try to shower L with the affection I never got, but that never seems to help me feel any better. The best part is, if my mother ever read this, she would crucify me for it. She would use every guilt trip inducing comment in her arsenal to make me feel ashamed for having written something like this about her. Thankfully, no one reads this anyways.
4.5.11
All's Quiet on the Eastern Front or Killing an Arab
So, Osama is dead. I don't really have any personal opinions on the matter. I'm glad he can't kill anymore people, innocent or otherwise, but I don't see cause to celebrate in the crude fashion that so many other Americans have chosen to do so. Huge celebrations in major cities with people pouring champagne on each other like it's New Years Eve are just appalling. Someone died. Not innocent, but why can't we be more civilized than the people who attacked the U.S. ten years ago? I remember the videos of people celebrating in the streets after thousands of Americans died in the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and in a field. I remember how horrified I was then and the feeling is the same now.
When I look back at 9/11, I don't think of the innocent victims anymore. I think about the man who was cheating on his wife or beating her every night. I think about the alcoholic woman whose drinking was tearing her family apart. These are people who were likely very real. Their deaths probably made life easier for someone else and you know what? I can understand that. Maybe it's my ability to feel empathy for someone else's situation, but those are the victims' families that I support the most. It's crass to some I'm sure, but not everyone who died that day was a saint and trying to beatify them is just dishonest. That being said, there are plenty of victims who were wonderful people. People who called their parents from inside a towering inferno just to say goodbye and I love you. Should the death of their killer be celebrated though? I really can't say yes. I'm glad he's gone, but I can't celebrate it. Doesn't he win that way? I spent a good hour talking to my brother, who lived in New Haven, CT at the time, about how it affected him. He's overjoyed that Osama is dead, but it brought back every single memory he had about that day and the weeks that followed. Being a church organist, he had to play for countless funerals for people who died and heard their stories with tears in his eyes every time. It's upsetting to hear that from him, but even so, I cannot celebrate Osama's death. Instead I fear what is to come. What kind of retaliation do they have in mind? When will it come? Who's going to die because of this? It scares the living hell out of me to be brutally honest.
In other news, I got a puppy. I've named her Clara, and I keep wanting to call her Piper. Piper was the dog my ex-husband gave me as a wedding present and then gave away to some animal shelter because he didn't feel like taking care of her. I still haven't forgiven him for that move. Anyways, Clara reminds me so much of Piper in looks and behavior. She's so much fun. She plays almost all day and loves to explore everything around her. We're working on house breaking her, but for the most part L loves her. He's a little disappointed that she's not more active when he's around, but that's understandable. She's still a puppy and still growing a lot so she needs to sleep in between bursts of puppy energy. I'm just absolutely in love with her.
When I look back at 9/11, I don't think of the innocent victims anymore. I think about the man who was cheating on his wife or beating her every night. I think about the alcoholic woman whose drinking was tearing her family apart. These are people who were likely very real. Their deaths probably made life easier for someone else and you know what? I can understand that. Maybe it's my ability to feel empathy for someone else's situation, but those are the victims' families that I support the most. It's crass to some I'm sure, but not everyone who died that day was a saint and trying to beatify them is just dishonest. That being said, there are plenty of victims who were wonderful people. People who called their parents from inside a towering inferno just to say goodbye and I love you. Should the death of their killer be celebrated though? I really can't say yes. I'm glad he's gone, but I can't celebrate it. Doesn't he win that way? I spent a good hour talking to my brother, who lived in New Haven, CT at the time, about how it affected him. He's overjoyed that Osama is dead, but it brought back every single memory he had about that day and the weeks that followed. Being a church organist, he had to play for countless funerals for people who died and heard their stories with tears in his eyes every time. It's upsetting to hear that from him, but even so, I cannot celebrate Osama's death. Instead I fear what is to come. What kind of retaliation do they have in mind? When will it come? Who's going to die because of this? It scares the living hell out of me to be brutally honest.
In other news, I got a puppy. I've named her Clara, and I keep wanting to call her Piper. Piper was the dog my ex-husband gave me as a wedding present and then gave away to some animal shelter because he didn't feel like taking care of her. I still haven't forgiven him for that move. Anyways, Clara reminds me so much of Piper in looks and behavior. She's so much fun. She plays almost all day and loves to explore everything around her. We're working on house breaking her, but for the most part L loves her. He's a little disappointed that she's not more active when he's around, but that's understandable. She's still a puppy and still growing a lot so she needs to sleep in between bursts of puppy energy. I'm just absolutely in love with her.
21.4.11
One More Time with Feeling
I had an interesting experience at church tonight. It being Maundy Thursday we performed at services and it was a really interesting experience seeing it from a Jew's perspective instead of just a disillusioned Christian. I was embarrassed to have to refuse communion though. Usually I just sit in the pew and let the bread and wine pass me by, but this time we had to get up and go to it because we had to get up to the balcony. *sigh* the pastor looked so affronted when I refused to take the bread or wine. I just couldn't fake being a Christian for his comfort though. I had a lot of issues with the readings though, but that's only natural. I just really wonder if this job is going to get me sent to hell sometimes. But I sat there and endured the falsity of the "passion" story. Listened to the Jews be blamed for Christ's death and how Pontius Pilate wanted to save him, but we wanted him dead. Please. Pontius Pilate was fired from his position for killing too many people. Look it up. He would have had no problem killing Jesus and he sure as hell wouldn't have needed a reason. But since the Christians in ca. 70CE wanted to distance themselves from the Jews in Judea and have the Romans actually like them they pulled a PR move and glorified the one Roman in the story. The rest of it was done by the Jews. Seriously. I get so pissed off about it. It's unfair and what's worse is it's all fiction that has been fabricated as a PR move and then turned into a religion!! WTH! I just can't believe people bought into it. I'm willing to admit that the main characters probably existed, but it's like spring break stories. Most of the shit described didn't happen. *sigh*
I guess my religious disillusionment goes back to confirmation. I was in 8th and 9th grades and had so many questions and no one took them seriously. I questioned and questioned and questioned and no one offered answers. Now, I've had to find the answers for myself, or at least answers I can live with. I've found that so often in my life that I've had to supply the answers for myself even after asking "experts". Perhaps that's why I mistrust authority figures. I don't know.
I'm starting to fall into familiar behavior patterns though. Self Destructive ones. I'm a fool for thinking my psych. was wrong about me being Borderline. I'm just better at hiding it, I guess. Well not from the psych. He saw it probably right away. I'm not cutting though, which is a blessing. I'm just doing things I shouldn't. Such as emotionally eating. I hate doing it, and it's just a horrible habit, but lately it's just the only thing that is comforting me. Except this. Writing is helping so much. Just getting it out and letting it go.
I guess my religious disillusionment goes back to confirmation. I was in 8th and 9th grades and had so many questions and no one took them seriously. I questioned and questioned and questioned and no one offered answers. Now, I've had to find the answers for myself, or at least answers I can live with. I've found that so often in my life that I've had to supply the answers for myself even after asking "experts". Perhaps that's why I mistrust authority figures. I don't know.
I'm starting to fall into familiar behavior patterns though. Self Destructive ones. I'm a fool for thinking my psych. was wrong about me being Borderline. I'm just better at hiding it, I guess. Well not from the psych. He saw it probably right away. I'm not cutting though, which is a blessing. I'm just doing things I shouldn't. Such as emotionally eating. I hate doing it, and it's just a horrible habit, but lately it's just the only thing that is comforting me. Except this. Writing is helping so much. Just getting it out and letting it go.
aching to pupate
I'm feeling lost lately. Love life is fine. Better than fine. I'm just lost. I have no idea what I need to do with my life. I really want to follow through with all my dreams, I just lack the motivation. I think I'm just frightened of the unknown. I know most of the time, I'm cocky and so sure of myself when it comes to my future. I know that I can do it, but I'm afraid that the obstacles that screwed me over in undergrad will follow me to grad school. I hate my depression for that. I hate my father for what he did to me. And I hate L's father for his refusal to be a dad. At least it's not a burning hatred anymore. It's just annoyance. *sigh* Can I do this? What if my meds stop working again? What if I just can't do it? What if I'm not smart enough or talented enough? I'm so scared of being proven mediocre. I've always believed I was destined for greatness, but what if I'm not. Can I handle that disappointment? I have no one to really talk to about all this. J has way too much on his plate right now and I won't add to it. And S is just about ready to go crazy from being burnt out on her job. So I turn here to ask my questions to an empty audience. What am I going to do?
The other problem that is just weighing on me is my desire to expand my family. J and I are NOT ready for that, but I only have maybe 2 more years where that's a possibly safe option. After what happened with L's birth I'm lucky I'm alive. I ought to get a second opinion in all honesty, but after being told that it's not really an option after my 30th year, it's scary and wholly heartbreaking. I dreamed of a huge family. I wanted tons of kids because I have so much love in me to give. My mother keeps reminding me that they don't have to be biologically mine to be a family and that's true, but it's not the way I envisioned my future family... not entirely. I thought about being a foster mom, but after I was done having children. I even thought about being surrogate for people. But as time passes ever so quickly, so go my chances of carrying another child. I really never thought L would be my only kiddo. I really thought I'd have a couple more by now, but life intervened and I'm okay with that. I just... I hate watching one of my deepest most cherished dreams die. It hurts unbearably and I really wish someone understood instead of telling me I can adopt. I try to compensate by wanting a puppy or something that would need me just as much. L is getting older and in many ways doesn't need me as much. He needs guidance now and that is so rewarding, but I miss the hugs and the constant cuddling and the waking up at 3 am to take care of him. I'm lucky I have such a beautiful child and I'm lucky J has a beautiful child that I can love too. Watching a dream die is just horrible especially when I have nothing else to do but watch.
The other problem that is just weighing on me is my desire to expand my family. J and I are NOT ready for that, but I only have maybe 2 more years where that's a possibly safe option. After what happened with L's birth I'm lucky I'm alive. I ought to get a second opinion in all honesty, but after being told that it's not really an option after my 30th year, it's scary and wholly heartbreaking. I dreamed of a huge family. I wanted tons of kids because I have so much love in me to give. My mother keeps reminding me that they don't have to be biologically mine to be a family and that's true, but it's not the way I envisioned my future family... not entirely. I thought about being a foster mom, but after I was done having children. I even thought about being surrogate for people. But as time passes ever so quickly, so go my chances of carrying another child. I really never thought L would be my only kiddo. I really thought I'd have a couple more by now, but life intervened and I'm okay with that. I just... I hate watching one of my deepest most cherished dreams die. It hurts unbearably and I really wish someone understood instead of telling me I can adopt. I try to compensate by wanting a puppy or something that would need me just as much. L is getting older and in many ways doesn't need me as much. He needs guidance now and that is so rewarding, but I miss the hugs and the constant cuddling and the waking up at 3 am to take care of him. I'm lucky I have such a beautiful child and I'm lucky J has a beautiful child that I can love too. Watching a dream die is just horrible especially when I have nothing else to do but watch.
20.4.11
Just an Old Fashioned Love Song
I think this is gonna be a short one. I had a really nice realization today. I was watching some silly romantic comedy and I realized that after years of saying "I wish I had that" when the two main characters finally get together (even when I was in so-called healthy relationships), I finally have that. I know beyond a doubt that J would do all that silly stupid crap to make sure I knew how much he loves me. I would do it too. What a wonderful thought. I have the start of a possible happily ever after. He's not the man of my dreams... no one ever will be, but he's the sweetest most wonderful man I've ever been with. He's honest. That's a first for me. He doesn't manipulate me into doing things that I don't want to do, or worse things that are horrible for me. He wants me to do things that are good for me, for L and those things will ultimately be good for us. For once I got lucky and for once I recognize that my past adult relationships were unhealthy from the start. I love J. Not the insanely, uncontrollable passion that characterized my adolescent relationships, but a deeper more stable love, with passion that doesn't pour over into stupid fights about nothing, passion that in that respect is controlled and steady. I'm more cautious and yes, I've wanted to run away, but instead I listened and supported J through his issues and I'm closer to him than I ever was with anyone before. I'm not thinking marriage right away like I always have in the past. I recognize that it will come in time and the road there is the best part. I'd like to think that this is headed in that direction and that one day, if he doesn't propose to me, I'll get off my high horse and propose to him. But not today, not tomorrow, not even next month. I want to love him for years and not blow it by some silly moment of insecurity. I love him.
19.4.11
The Trees on the Mountain
It was a rough start to the month. I was hospitalized again, but I got the med change I so desperately needed. I got out of the hospital and quit the job that was making me miserable and am looking into studying for my advanced CNA. I may not be able to handle the elderly population, but I sure as hell can handle babies and children. Ideally I'd get a job with the children's hospital here in town and work my ass off to save up money to go to grad school... or just to be able to hold my head above water.
So grad school... I don't know if I want to go anymore. I'm hesitating and feeling like maybe it's just not necessary anymore. Maybe I've done all I'm supposed to do with music. *sigh* I'm not going to lie and say that J has nothing to do with this ponderance. I am frightened of the possibility of losing him if I go. I don't want to be 2 or 3 states away from him when he's becoming such a huge part of my life. I love him so much. I don't even see it as giving up on my dreams. I see it as the possibility of exploring a new dream. But still... I'm too talented to just let it go like that though. I have such a desire and such a yearning to prove myself to not only the world at large, but myself as well.
I'm jumping around here, but that's mainly cause my brain is too. Med changes are a bitch though... I'm not nearly as sleepy as I was the first few weeks on my new meds, and I'm really happy about that. Unfortunately, my doctor has decided he's worried about my kidneys and is putting me on Ace Inhibitors... I don't know how I feel about it... mostly scared. He said that it was just to make sure they're protected early. *sigh* It's just been a hell of a month. Oh, and another person died... this time my great-uncle. I knew it was coming... cause these things happen in threes. So, Jessica, Maria and Herbie are the first three of the year. I hope there isn't another set of three.
So grad school... I don't know if I want to go anymore. I'm hesitating and feeling like maybe it's just not necessary anymore. Maybe I've done all I'm supposed to do with music. *sigh* I'm not going to lie and say that J has nothing to do with this ponderance. I am frightened of the possibility of losing him if I go. I don't want to be 2 or 3 states away from him when he's becoming such a huge part of my life. I love him so much. I don't even see it as giving up on my dreams. I see it as the possibility of exploring a new dream. But still... I'm too talented to just let it go like that though. I have such a desire and such a yearning to prove myself to not only the world at large, but myself as well.
I'm jumping around here, but that's mainly cause my brain is too. Med changes are a bitch though... I'm not nearly as sleepy as I was the first few weeks on my new meds, and I'm really happy about that. Unfortunately, my doctor has decided he's worried about my kidneys and is putting me on Ace Inhibitors... I don't know how I feel about it... mostly scared. He said that it was just to make sure they're protected early. *sigh* It's just been a hell of a month. Oh, and another person died... this time my great-uncle. I knew it was coming... cause these things happen in threes. So, Jessica, Maria and Herbie are the first three of the year. I hope there isn't another set of three.
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