Thursday, July 5, 2012

well crap


8/13/2002
 

well... we're out of luck for this week. no babysitter. the woman who watched john last year is now employed full time and we have no other options at the moment. lyn is going out of town friday and we can't see her this week or next. have to cancel the doctor appointment too. we haven't had 15 consecutive minutes alone outside of going to and from therapy in 3 months.

can you hear the ticking?

have left a message for lyn. we may be able to do a phone session before she leaves on friday. still, would give anything to be alone for a few hours without having to give up sleep too.

have an hour before the munchkins start getting home from school. time to get a nap while the getting is good.


excuse me, but did you kiss a yak butt?

8/13/2002

ugh... woke up this morning at 5:55 to get the kids up for school. fell asleep with hair in a ponytail, had gatorade before falling asleep and had too much sodium at dinner so that combined with 4 hours sleep gave that lovely puffy morning face that somehow manages to highlight every wrinkle and imperfection. needless to say, should NOT have looked in the mirror before going downstairs... idly wondered... oh nevermind, you don't want to know.

wandering around feeling like crap and waiting impatiently for the damn coffee to brew!!!! avoided any possibility of seeing our reflection, went upstairs to make sure kids were actually getting up, went into the bedroom wishing the kids could get themselves out of the house on their own in the mornings to find ourself face to face with a man that seems to be too brain damaged to realize how gross we were.

answered a question in someone else's diary the other day about the difference between love and infatuation... now realize love is about more than wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone but in seeing beauty in the person you wake up with.

no matter how disheveled, icky and bloated we may feel, this man will still wrap his arms around us and tell us how beautiful we are. someone who wants to kiss a person whose breath in not very different from the dog after she's raided the cat box. love is a child telling you you're the best parent in 'the whole live world' because you make his chocolate milk, or because (charlie did this sunday) you spent 6 hours painstakingly designing custom paper plane patterns so your sons can just print it out whenever they want one. love is asking someone how their day was when you know you'll understand less than half of the technobabble they are about to launch into, and listening with clear interest, to every word. love is more than a willingness to commit to the pretty side of a relationship.

love is about staying thru tragedy, illness, poverty, snoring, poodle perms and morning breath and still knowing there is no one else on the planet you would ever want to wake up with. love is being able to stick together thru communication problems and being able to find something to laugh about when everything looks like shit.

it will be 16 years in 10 days. almost half our life with charlie and we can say with honesty, it's definitely been the best half. he asked marisa to marry him on april 27, 1986, and waited til may 10 for their first kiss. he quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) stayed with us until the day when someone finally understood that there were many of us in this body, and responded with gratitude that he could finally discuss it openly now. he'd known since year one, but helped us hide our secret until someone believed.

okay, we're obviously feeling sentimental today. it's kind of hard not to when you've kissed someone who had the courtesy not to ask if you've been kissing yak butt.

love you charlie.


Wednesday, July 4, 2012

blah...

8/13/2002



want to write. need to write. so much flying around nonstop but with the three of us together right now, it's as if the collective attention span has been reduced to that of a flea. if the tv is on or a cd is playing or someone in the house is frickin breathing, we can't concentrate long enough to get anything coherant into words.

on the other hand. *grins* we've done a bunch of shrinky dinks. including a few with black background and white lettering and the smartass comments that are on the t-shirts in hot topic and gadzooks. have decided to make one for the doc that says 'you're just jealous because the voices don't talk to you'. he'll love it. he's such a clutter junkie... all the little things the lils have given him over the last couple of years are proudly displayed on a huge desk that, if you could see the top of it, might be wood. he's a cool guy.

we also went back to the creek in tall pines. all 5 kids and us went sunday afternoon and spent 2 hrs and collected well over 100 shark teeth as well as various other small fossils and petrified wood. it's a cool place to go and we (that includes the boys) needed to go back before fear from the other day had a chance to set up permanent residence. it wound up being a ton of fun and we (the crew that is) were able to enjoy ourself despite someone's fear we'd be bitten in the ass if we didn't look over our shoulder every 3 seconds. so we've gotten out the wire and stuff and taught the 3D kids how to wrap the teeth and make them into pendants. amelia only collected another 10 lbs of unusual and pretty rocks. we're going to have to just schedule a day when she can start painting them. we've got to do something before the bedroom closet begins to look like a rock garden.

one of the dreams last night was actually about an appt with dr. c. he knows how important personal faith is to us and in the dream we were talking about wanting to go back to church but not having the energy to deal with the bullshit. the big drawback to living with mental illness is that often it comes with an incredible bullshit detector and a low tolerance. the people at church aren't any different from anyone else, but because we see them (or did) so often, the quirks and neurosis that everyone has, are more easily seen in them. well, being the type of people we are, it's hard not to point out to people where are their weaknesses and sore spots are when they are busy trying to tell you how to live. (this is stephanie's edited take on it). 

so in the dream, we're talking to dr. c about it and he (think it was him) said it is all well and good to have some distance from the people who trigger you but that in the process you must guard against shutting everyone out of your life.
now this was a dream, but damn! talk about more truth than you can handle. ouch. didn't want to hear that, awake or asleep. someone inside is well aware of the fact that for all the desire to start going again (if for no other reason than the music) we're terrified. we know that nothing has changed there and likely will not, because people are people. it's ridiculous to expect people to live according to your personal standards when you know those 'standards' are borne of dysfunction. so instead of learning how to let it roll off as we work to heal the things in our own life that cause the triggers, we make excuses and don't do what we need to. in the process we have shut everyone (in this state anyway) out of our life.

today, we forced ourself to call someone we haven't talked to in 3 months. she's a good friend. also a mother of 5 kids (hers are older) she has been a true friend in the 6 years we've known her and it was wonderful to talk to her. contrary to what capt. paranoia likes to tell me, she (and others) are not assuming we've left the church or are 'back-slidden'. she's just concerned. it was nice to catch up with her.

maybe what we need to do is start actually talking to people on the phone and visiting them... take it slowly, but start easing them back into our life before we jump back into the crowd that so terrifies us at church.

it's not the church thoough. it's not even the people and we know this. it's us. we either feel exposed and freakish or ignored because of our freakishness. those are OUR feelings and we just project them onto others assuming they see us that way.

ugh, ok. enough for tonight. too tired to see straight.

but, if you hear this incredibly loud *POP* at some point this week, don't worry, it's just the sound of our head coming out of our ass.

Monday Morning Migraines

8/12/2002

Now that FOD* is no longer constipated, maybe we can do some writing. It never occurs to us to just use Word or something then transfer it here later. We just sit on this stuff and hope it doesn't start dribbling out the ears before we can put it down.

Anyway, bad day. Psycho Kitty slept at our feet again and there were some pretty intense dreams that suggest there was switching around in sleep last night, so this headache is not so much classic migraine as combination switching and allergy.

Not that it matters. Light is blinding and we feel sick just sitting up. So we won't for now. Mostly just wanted to see if Open Diary was accepting entries again.

*Free Open Diary

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Musings

8-10-2002

sometimes it seems so strange that the events of one life can be so splintered. hard to understand how an event i can barely remember can spark such heartbreak inside. how many small ones inside shared part of that one experience? will the coming together of those pieces help to relieve the ache of betrayal and loss of self that tore thru us that night? Why can't it be enough to say, the past is past and let it go?

because *i* can't let go what *we* hold. even tho some of the memories are mine, it wasn't *me*, the person who is wife and mother, who was there to live the abuse. you cannot take what is not yours. for the last 28 years or so, that night has not been mine.

 were this only one mind, such an event would have shaped the life but not controlled it, would it? Does everyone have those childhood experiences that remain like a thorn in the heart, for all their lives?

how bizarre it feels to watch the words of a story being typed and to relate to it more as one would a movie, rather than part of your own autobiography.

sometimes it's hard not to envy people who have been able to live thru their own hell without breaking apart as we have. then again, there are the times when there is a sense of gratitude for having been spared for a time.

Oh to see how the other half lives! it would be like trying to ask an orange how it thinks it would feel to be an apple.

enough of this mental masturbation. it's time to sleep.