I don't know how clear I was in my last post, but the issues I'm dealing with aren't happening in any type of quick fashion, they've been going on over the course of the last few weeks, and yes they've been hard. Night time is always the hardest. Insomnia has been another issue I've struggled with for the past few years with increasing difficulty. It is always during these times that I seem to get to my lowest, feel my most pain, and reach the darkest places of myself. As you might expect this is where I do the worst damage to myself and make rash decisions.
Tonight I feel bad. I feel like I want to embrace the worst parts of myself and discover how bad, how evil, how horrible I can go. Just saying it sounds as stupid as I know it is, yet the roiling turmoil inside of me is screaming in pain and asking to have it ended, seems to think it can only be satiated in the worst possible way. I wonder how much time I have left before I truly do something stupid?
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Small Destructive Steps
Coming to terms with who I am and what I've been through is a mixed bag. In some ways it's easy, but in a way that's equivalent to paying lip service to something. I can say it easily, but I don't always put the effort into taking care of the issue, and that is the hard part.
Don't get me wrong, I never thought this would be easy or have a clear path to figure out, but it doesn't mean I have to like how it feels. I don't think I've ever felt more alone about anything. This isn't something I'm ashamed of, but at the same time I don't know how I go forward and reveal what I'm going through to people and talk about this openly. It's exhausting having to explain everything and how the sexual abuse and the narcotics addiction are currently working hand in hand against me at this time. I mean, who do you dump this shit on? Who can even understand this?
So, this big change in my life and how I view myself is here, and so far I've handled it poorly. In fact, I'm still handling it poorly, making dangerous choices, bad choices, or what have you. There are days when I get up that after I get the kids off to school and I'm alone all I want to do is lay in a shallow grave and cover myself up into oblivion. Other days I want to watch the world burn, looking at everything and seeing nothing but futility and cynicism through my eyes. I'm either numb or hurt, some days both, and sometimes I switch between the two in the bat of an eye with or without reason. I see it coming and I'm powerless to stop it let alone get a handle on it. Some days I do better, and it's all internal, I don't share it.
Among the many bad choices I've made lately was going through a new prescription of Ativan in a week, in stead of a month. I didn't do this as a premeditated action, I just had access to my pills and used them to cope. I can make excuses, but I won't because it doesn't do any good and it really just leads back to making poor choices.
So here I am fighting against each of the problems and I'm really not sure which one I treat first or if I can get treatment for both at the same time through support groups. Narcotics support groups seem more numerous and offer more options, but if I'm being honest and I'm more concerned about the issues that I struggle with from the sexual abuse. Even now, I still have days that I wake after a night of troubled sleep and uncomfortable dreams that trail behind me throughout the day, but at the same time I have a hard time accepting that this happened to me, that some how I could have allowed it to take place, even though I was powerless and unable to protect myself. Its that last part that I know is hard to come to terms with.
So slowly I trudge through these days, walking through an emotional quagmire of my own life problems, feeling inadequate and unworthy, searching for relief and acceptance, and often finding that there is none, or that when I do find it then it's destructive for me. It's a solitary wading road and unfortunately I see it getting only more solitary the further I go.
Don't get me wrong, I never thought this would be easy or have a clear path to figure out, but it doesn't mean I have to like how it feels. I don't think I've ever felt more alone about anything. This isn't something I'm ashamed of, but at the same time I don't know how I go forward and reveal what I'm going through to people and talk about this openly. It's exhausting having to explain everything and how the sexual abuse and the narcotics addiction are currently working hand in hand against me at this time. I mean, who do you dump this shit on? Who can even understand this?
So, this big change in my life and how I view myself is here, and so far I've handled it poorly. In fact, I'm still handling it poorly, making dangerous choices, bad choices, or what have you. There are days when I get up that after I get the kids off to school and I'm alone all I want to do is lay in a shallow grave and cover myself up into oblivion. Other days I want to watch the world burn, looking at everything and seeing nothing but futility and cynicism through my eyes. I'm either numb or hurt, some days both, and sometimes I switch between the two in the bat of an eye with or without reason. I see it coming and I'm powerless to stop it let alone get a handle on it. Some days I do better, and it's all internal, I don't share it.
Among the many bad choices I've made lately was going through a new prescription of Ativan in a week, in stead of a month. I didn't do this as a premeditated action, I just had access to my pills and used them to cope. I can make excuses, but I won't because it doesn't do any good and it really just leads back to making poor choices.
So here I am fighting against each of the problems and I'm really not sure which one I treat first or if I can get treatment for both at the same time through support groups. Narcotics support groups seem more numerous and offer more options, but if I'm being honest and I'm more concerned about the issues that I struggle with from the sexual abuse. Even now, I still have days that I wake after a night of troubled sleep and uncomfortable dreams that trail behind me throughout the day, but at the same time I have a hard time accepting that this happened to me, that some how I could have allowed it to take place, even though I was powerless and unable to protect myself. Its that last part that I know is hard to come to terms with.
So slowly I trudge through these days, walking through an emotional quagmire of my own life problems, feeling inadequate and unworthy, searching for relief and acceptance, and often finding that there is none, or that when I do find it then it's destructive for me. It's a solitary wading road and unfortunately I see it getting only more solitary the further I go.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Me
I feel that the time is right for another entry, or several, on this blog because I need to come to grips with more issues. I don't know who is left out there that still checks on this from time or who will read this, but what I'm going to discuss is something I have to work through. I've tried for several days now to complete this post and each time the words escape me, probably as a result of some ingrained subconscious defense mechanism so I won't have to confront my feelings. I think the best thing for me to do is just to explain how this started.
My usual sleeping problems have gotten worse over the last month and when I can I usually have powerful nightmares that leave me thrashing, mumbling, or even shouting in my sleep. I've always been a vivid dreamer, but talking or physically reacting to them is very rare. The intensity of these dreams affected me greater than I would have ever imagined any dream could and on several occasions they have unlocked memories that I had pushed away and caused me untold amounts of confusion and trauma. What it has uncovered are memories of being molested as a child by my mother.
I dismissed the first couple of dreams as being nothing more than figments of my hyperactive mind, but the dreams continued and while I was awake I began to have more memories surface. Even now, just acknowledging this to myself internally makes me want to crawl out of my skin and seek safety in some unknown place. I tried every logical explanation I could conceive of that could strike down what I was remembering, but each attempt only led me to further examination and confirmation. Coming to terms with this new realization has been unbearable at times and pushed my depression into stages that has had me considering suicide in my weakest and lowest moments.
It's not commonly known to many people, but I have an addiction to painkillers such as hydrocodone, which I needed to seek treatment for. Times of stress and great anxiety heighten this alluring addiction because the benefits of overusing medication like this is that is keeps me numb and deadens my emotions and feelings. As I walk through the pained memories that I am experiencing all over again, the need to take away the pain and suffering that I am going through on a daily basis is overwhelming. I've abused my anxiety medication trying to mask the anger and resentment I'm going through so that now I'm battling this as well.
As meager as this collection of thoughts are, organizing and composing them have been draining, so I think I'll leave this alone for one night.
My usual sleeping problems have gotten worse over the last month and when I can I usually have powerful nightmares that leave me thrashing, mumbling, or even shouting in my sleep. I've always been a vivid dreamer, but talking or physically reacting to them is very rare. The intensity of these dreams affected me greater than I would have ever imagined any dream could and on several occasions they have unlocked memories that I had pushed away and caused me untold amounts of confusion and trauma. What it has uncovered are memories of being molested as a child by my mother.
I dismissed the first couple of dreams as being nothing more than figments of my hyperactive mind, but the dreams continued and while I was awake I began to have more memories surface. Even now, just acknowledging this to myself internally makes me want to crawl out of my skin and seek safety in some unknown place. I tried every logical explanation I could conceive of that could strike down what I was remembering, but each attempt only led me to further examination and confirmation. Coming to terms with this new realization has been unbearable at times and pushed my depression into stages that has had me considering suicide in my weakest and lowest moments.
It's not commonly known to many people, but I have an addiction to painkillers such as hydrocodone, which I needed to seek treatment for. Times of stress and great anxiety heighten this alluring addiction because the benefits of overusing medication like this is that is keeps me numb and deadens my emotions and feelings. As I walk through the pained memories that I am experiencing all over again, the need to take away the pain and suffering that I am going through on a daily basis is overwhelming. I've abused my anxiety medication trying to mask the anger and resentment I'm going through so that now I'm battling this as well.
As meager as this collection of thoughts are, organizing and composing them have been draining, so I think I'll leave this alone for one night.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Slow to move
Tomorrow I have to pick out a psychiatrist and start the slow process of playing with my medication. I think I'm wishing for something that doesn't exist, a pill to help me with depression that doesn't make me numb with a lot of side effects. Ideally I'd like not to take a pill or any medication at all AND avoid therapy. I don't think that's going to happen, I'm convinced there is something screwed up in my body chemistry that requires help to get me in balance but there is a pull between being "normal" and feeling as though I am able to live and enjoy life on an emotional level.
I really can't stress how badly I want to be off of Celexa. Despite the success I have achieved with it I truly believe it has led to other problems in my life, namely the addiction and abuse of the painkiller hydrocodone. specifically Norco. Don't get me wrong, I still accept full responsibility for that but one of the side effects of Celexa is apathy and emotional flattening, which is what I talked about in my last entry. It's hard to recall what I was thinking while under the influence of the medication, but I wouldn't be surprised if, subconsciously at the minimum, I was attracted to the release of the hydrocodone and the euphoria that made me feel, something, instead of my usual wraith-like existence.
I have the will to live, I just want to feel the benefits of it again. Living an analytical existence is a half-life at best.
I really can't stress how badly I want to be off of Celexa. Despite the success I have achieved with it I truly believe it has led to other problems in my life, namely the addiction and abuse of the painkiller hydrocodone. specifically Norco. Don't get me wrong, I still accept full responsibility for that but one of the side effects of Celexa is apathy and emotional flattening, which is what I talked about in my last entry. It's hard to recall what I was thinking while under the influence of the medication, but I wouldn't be surprised if, subconsciously at the minimum, I was attracted to the release of the hydrocodone and the euphoria that made me feel, something, instead of my usual wraith-like existence.
I have the will to live, I just want to feel the benefits of it again. Living an analytical existence is a half-life at best.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
It's time to let the damn break
**************************Disclaimer**********************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***********************************************************
I've put off making posts of any kind here and on other blogs because I lack any feelings strong enough to right about them. The medications that I am on keep me insulated from the world and I find my public displays of happiness, joy, and even excitement and truly just myself going through the motions for the sake of others. I'm acting like me, or more specifically how I am supposed to be.
It doesn't matter what the event or situation is, its not personal, I just struggle through it. But the worst part is when I am left to my own and I realize I don't have any more feelings. I should explain that they are there, but they are just buried so deeply that they are almost an enormous task to access. The only exception being the joy and love my children bring out in me. But every other feeling or care it gone as I were sitting on a chair in a large empty room all alone..
Now, I don't really talk to anyone about this, or try to let on, but I am sure it manifests in some awkward aloofness. Even when we are gathered together for functions or a relaxed get together, trying to remember the appropriate times to laugh, act interested, ask further questions, or display the proper emotion to go along with the conversation or action based on how I am supposed to do so. It's funny that I do not believe people know how difficulty I am having over a simple conversation around "How bout dem Bears, huh?" These get togethers are so hard on me that I am ready to go 2 second before if starts. Don't get me wrong they're almost always wonderful situations but let me let people here in on a little secret that will probably do myself so good by finally letting it out even here. and is that these situations, which force so much confusion consistent low levels of terror and nervousness, end with me waiting to be alone at night sobbing to sleep because I feel broken. I've never even told this Meva for fear of rejection and not wanting to worry her further.
My reluctance to discuss this with Meva centers around what I feel/know if the cause of this, and that is my daily medication for depression Celexa, I think we would both argue that our lives have become less chaotic and more manageable since I have started taking it. But the truth is that I don't feel any more and I can't access my creativity and write like I used to. It makes me feel like such an enormous failure and that is slowly killing me.
To this end, I decided to stop taking the Celexa because I so desperately need to know I am alive, but after just a few days and not chance of seeing any symptoms I had to return to taking it, until I can get to a shrink and talk with him about what to do.
My asshole sister Traci has resurfaced again, wanting to borrow money so that she can make her way via bus to just show up at my other sister's house in Arizona. Teri's health is not good, and despite being told repeatedly not to come down there, Traci's plan is to do just that. This always stresses me out, so the last thing I need to do is be off my meds during this.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***********************************************************
I've put off making posts of any kind here and on other blogs because I lack any feelings strong enough to right about them. The medications that I am on keep me insulated from the world and I find my public displays of happiness, joy, and even excitement and truly just myself going through the motions for the sake of others. I'm acting like me, or more specifically how I am supposed to be.
It doesn't matter what the event or situation is, its not personal, I just struggle through it. But the worst part is when I am left to my own and I realize I don't have any more feelings. I should explain that they are there, but they are just buried so deeply that they are almost an enormous task to access. The only exception being the joy and love my children bring out in me. But every other feeling or care it gone as I were sitting on a chair in a large empty room all alone..
Now, I don't really talk to anyone about this, or try to let on, but I am sure it manifests in some awkward aloofness. Even when we are gathered together for functions or a relaxed get together, trying to remember the appropriate times to laugh, act interested, ask further questions, or display the proper emotion to go along with the conversation or action based on how I am supposed to do so. It's funny that I do not believe people know how difficulty I am having over a simple conversation around "How bout dem Bears, huh?" These get togethers are so hard on me that I am ready to go 2 second before if starts. Don't get me wrong they're almost always wonderful situations but let me let people here in on a little secret that will probably do myself so good by finally letting it out even here. and is that these situations, which force so much confusion consistent low levels of terror and nervousness, end with me waiting to be alone at night sobbing to sleep because I feel broken. I've never even told this Meva for fear of rejection and not wanting to worry her further.
My reluctance to discuss this with Meva centers around what I feel/know if the cause of this, and that is my daily medication for depression Celexa, I think we would both argue that our lives have become less chaotic and more manageable since I have started taking it. But the truth is that I don't feel any more and I can't access my creativity and write like I used to. It makes me feel like such an enormous failure and that is slowly killing me.
To this end, I decided to stop taking the Celexa because I so desperately need to know I am alive, but after just a few days and not chance of seeing any symptoms I had to return to taking it, until I can get to a shrink and talk with him about what to do.
My asshole sister Traci has resurfaced again, wanting to borrow money so that she can make her way via bus to just show up at my other sister's house in Arizona. Teri's health is not good, and despite being told repeatedly not to come down there, Traci's plan is to do just that. This always stresses me out, so the last thing I need to do is be off my meds during this.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Episode IV --- A New Hope
****************************Disclaimer**********************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
*************************************************************
This week Meva told me that for the first time in a long time she feels like she has her husband back.
This is significant because the last 5 years have been extremely difficult and enlightening for me as I've come to accept and better understand the extent and power depression has on me. At times it has been all-consuming, even causing Meva to strongly question and believe that I might be bi-polar. For me to say that it has had a powerful influence on me is really an understatement.
When I'm at my worst, I am extremely anti-social, irritable, and passive-aggressive and I find that I can't control the self-destructive behaviors which cause me to push everyone away. It's frustrating and further fuels all the negative urges of Depression. I don't want to get too descriptive about everything I did wrong or poorly, but suffice it to say that this has cost me dearly. I've alienated friends and family and has all but ostracized me from those who were among my closest and dearest friends. I don't blame them for avoiding me because reflection has allowed me to see just how terrible I was.
To those of you that read this and fall within that category, I'm sorry. I can't erase my mistakes no matter how hard I try, but I with time I might be able rebuild the friendships we had, but I understand I may not be deserving of that opportunity and that is something I will have to learn to accept and live with.
So, how did this happen? It wasn't quick or easy, that's for sure. I would have good days and you probably wouldn't even suspect what I was going through (if you didn't already know about it) and then I'd have a string of bad days and I'd hide in plain sight from everyone and lash out in every direction at the slightest irritation or conflict. But after failing to manage the depression without better living through modern chemistry, I began to feel I was hitting a wall and doing nothing but injuring myself and my family. I took the initiative and began a program using the drug Celexa and rebuilding my sleep hygiene. It's only been two months, so I can't be 100% sure if it is working, but I see results. What's more important is also the fact that I am not the only one.
I expect there will still be bumps in the road even if this current plan continues to be successful, but hopefully any slights from here on will be insignificant and easily forgiven.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
*************************************************************
This week Meva told me that for the first time in a long time she feels like she has her husband back.
This is significant because the last 5 years have been extremely difficult and enlightening for me as I've come to accept and better understand the extent and power depression has on me. At times it has been all-consuming, even causing Meva to strongly question and believe that I might be bi-polar. For me to say that it has had a powerful influence on me is really an understatement.
When I'm at my worst, I am extremely anti-social, irritable, and passive-aggressive and I find that I can't control the self-destructive behaviors which cause me to push everyone away. It's frustrating and further fuels all the negative urges of Depression. I don't want to get too descriptive about everything I did wrong or poorly, but suffice it to say that this has cost me dearly. I've alienated friends and family and has all but ostracized me from those who were among my closest and dearest friends. I don't blame them for avoiding me because reflection has allowed me to see just how terrible I was.
To those of you that read this and fall within that category, I'm sorry. I can't erase my mistakes no matter how hard I try, but I with time I might be able rebuild the friendships we had, but I understand I may not be deserving of that opportunity and that is something I will have to learn to accept and live with.
So, how did this happen? It wasn't quick or easy, that's for sure. I would have good days and you probably wouldn't even suspect what I was going through (if you didn't already know about it) and then I'd have a string of bad days and I'd hide in plain sight from everyone and lash out in every direction at the slightest irritation or conflict. But after failing to manage the depression without better living through modern chemistry, I began to feel I was hitting a wall and doing nothing but injuring myself and my family. I took the initiative and began a program using the drug Celexa and rebuilding my sleep hygiene. It's only been two months, so I can't be 100% sure if it is working, but I see results. What's more important is also the fact that I am not the only one.
I expect there will still be bumps in the road even if this current plan continues to be successful, but hopefully any slights from here on will be insignificant and easily forgiven.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Sleep Deprived Thoughts
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
*************************************************************
I'm not at all sure why, but good, solid sleep has really become a premium for me. Over the last week I've had times where I have almost dreaded going to sleep at all. So I'm averaging about 3 hours of sleep a night and that means I've got a very short wick; which I then dangle around three little sparks all day long! And to top this off, it gives me the nastiest headaches in the world.
Despite being 40 now I still think I could lift my old truck and tip it completely over, so I've got that and the headaches going for me now.
Their are two consistent thoughts or issues that are prevailent during this time. One is a larger sense of my own mortality, but being 40 and working a job I truly never imagined I would be doing at this stage of my life makes that thinking easy. I can elaborate later on that because I've always had thoughts like this about mortality, so this isn't anything new.
What primarily bothers me is that I an still sorting out the mess that was my mother. I just keep playing so many of the negative things that she did, or in many cases didn't do, to me or for me. It is an exhausting but neccessary step that I have to take so I can move forward. But every time I do this, I go right back to the time these things happened and the original feelings of doubt, oppression, fear, loathing, hate, and even misanthropy all just crawl back under my skin and paralyze me. And I sit there watching these scenes play out and I see the damages they caused at the time--who they hurt, who those that were hurt then hurting others (myself included)-- and seeing this modeled as correct behavior.
It didn't matter if it was me getting beaten with motorcycle helmets or baseball bats, having lighter fluid thrown on me and then chased with a lighter, or buying liquor and paying for hair appointments so she could seduce a married co-worker (who happened to be the older brother of one of my closer friends in high school---- yeah HUGE issue there alone!!) while we were getting thrown out of places to live,. to the many hurtful and venomous things she would say to me and my sisters.
Right about that time I begin to wonder how much the mustakes I've made in my life are a direct result of all that and how I was cheated out of an early adulthood and the poor choices that still affect me to this day. It's usally at this point that my own mortality has found a way to seep through my melon and point out that the wasted time IS valuable because life is short and mine isn't getting any younger!
Is it know wonder then that I end up tossing and turning and trying to shake these thoughts and the corresponding images out of my mind so I can sleep, but it takes alot of time and more meds than I want to be taking. I take the meds because they do calm me down, but unfortunately they are becoming less effective.
So I'll get to go into the next morning with all that still freshly lingering in my head like the hungover bass sound you can't get rid of from that dance club you got wasted at the previous night. Somehow I have to fight on alone, through it, and raise my kids to never know any of that could happen to them and try to keep up with the house while I can.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
*************************************************************
I'm not at all sure why, but good, solid sleep has really become a premium for me. Over the last week I've had times where I have almost dreaded going to sleep at all. So I'm averaging about 3 hours of sleep a night and that means I've got a very short wick; which I then dangle around three little sparks all day long! And to top this off, it gives me the nastiest headaches in the world.
Despite being 40 now I still think I could lift my old truck and tip it completely over, so I've got that and the headaches going for me now.
Their are two consistent thoughts or issues that are prevailent during this time. One is a larger sense of my own mortality, but being 40 and working a job I truly never imagined I would be doing at this stage of my life makes that thinking easy. I can elaborate later on that because I've always had thoughts like this about mortality, so this isn't anything new.
What primarily bothers me is that I an still sorting out the mess that was my mother. I just keep playing so many of the negative things that she did, or in many cases didn't do, to me or for me. It is an exhausting but neccessary step that I have to take so I can move forward. But every time I do this, I go right back to the time these things happened and the original feelings of doubt, oppression, fear, loathing, hate, and even misanthropy all just crawl back under my skin and paralyze me. And I sit there watching these scenes play out and I see the damages they caused at the time--who they hurt, who those that were hurt then hurting others (myself included)-- and seeing this modeled as correct behavior.
It didn't matter if it was me getting beaten with motorcycle helmets or baseball bats, having lighter fluid thrown on me and then chased with a lighter, or buying liquor and paying for hair appointments so she could seduce a married co-worker (who happened to be the older brother of one of my closer friends in high school---- yeah HUGE issue there alone!!) while we were getting thrown out of places to live,. to the many hurtful and venomous things she would say to me and my sisters.
Right about that time I begin to wonder how much the mustakes I've made in my life are a direct result of all that and how I was cheated out of an early adulthood and the poor choices that still affect me to this day. It's usally at this point that my own mortality has found a way to seep through my melon and point out that the wasted time IS valuable because life is short and mine isn't getting any younger!
Is it know wonder then that I end up tossing and turning and trying to shake these thoughts and the corresponding images out of my mind so I can sleep, but it takes alot of time and more meds than I want to be taking. I take the meds because they do calm me down, but unfortunately they are becoming less effective.
So I'll get to go into the next morning with all that still freshly lingering in my head like the hungover bass sound you can't get rid of from that dance club you got wasted at the previous night. Somehow I have to fight on alone, through it, and raise my kids to never know any of that could happen to them and try to keep up with the house while I can.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Starting with my Dad
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
*************************************************************
Well to be on the blunt side I am concerned with much of my family, but the least and most of which is my father.
The reason I say he is the least of my concern is that both he and I are going pretty strong in trying to re-establish the whole father son relationship we're missing. The crazy old bastard is back to working road construction, mostly as a driver, but on occasion it seems he does other hard labor jobs. He may pack his ass with meds and pain killers after work to survive it, but that tough old SOB is doing things his way.I truly wish he's stop right now and begin enjoying everything he worked for, but it's not my call to make. It's only out of my love that I'm concern, but I respect him enough to let him Live his life the way he wants.
So anyways, it's really good to be able to talk to him one or more times a week. He and I are both at the mindset that the next step is for him to come out to my home and really meet my wife and finally meet his triplet grandchildren. I know that is important to him, and it is damn sure important to me. What's more is that I think in their own little way it will be important to the kids as well. Regardless of when it happens or how it happens, I expect it to be a good time.
That brings me to the focus of my sister's. My youngest Traci is living in who knows where, other than it is near Peoria Illinois. The only thing I know she is doing is that she is continuing to scam people and institutions out of money. All of a sudden I'm getting debt collector bills and phone calls at my house for incidents that have happened in the last two months!! It's one thing to be 35 and unable to have a grasp on your own life for you and your two kids, but it's another thing to drag me into the games by giving out my address and phone number as if she were still living her. I promise anyone readying this blog that if I should, for whatever reason, decide I need to start scamming people as though I was trying to get a Senate seat or something, I am going to do this on my own!! I just don't understand why she needs to pull me down unto her sad little world.
That brings me to my real mother and trying to come to some final terms about her and her life and what she did to me and my sister. Currently I am in a very angry stage when I think about her. For those of you that are around me (or in regular contact with me), this unresolved anger may explain any short, curt, rude, or withdrawn behavior of late. I am just so full of anger and hate about her and her legacy that I can't keep enough of it in safely or even cry enough out from time to time. It keeps me up late much or the week and has me more in contact with my darker side more than I am comfortable with.
It's bee too long and I think I really needed to start mentally organizing some thoughts before I make more specific posts I appreciate everyone's time that that take to either read and leave a comment (which I read and they are valuable to me) even if I don't get everyone's posted on the blog. They're very important to me, so please keep them coming!!
I will hopefully have more in the next week or possibly days.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
*************************************************************
Well to be on the blunt side I am concerned with much of my family, but the least and most of which is my father.
The reason I say he is the least of my concern is that both he and I are going pretty strong in trying to re-establish the whole father son relationship we're missing. The crazy old bastard is back to working road construction, mostly as a driver, but on occasion it seems he does other hard labor jobs. He may pack his ass with meds and pain killers after work to survive it, but that tough old SOB is doing things his way.I truly wish he's stop right now and begin enjoying everything he worked for, but it's not my call to make. It's only out of my love that I'm concern, but I respect him enough to let him Live his life the way he wants.
So anyways, it's really good to be able to talk to him one or more times a week. He and I are both at the mindset that the next step is for him to come out to my home and really meet my wife and finally meet his triplet grandchildren. I know that is important to him, and it is damn sure important to me. What's more is that I think in their own little way it will be important to the kids as well. Regardless of when it happens or how it happens, I expect it to be a good time.
That brings me to the focus of my sister's. My youngest Traci is living in who knows where, other than it is near Peoria Illinois. The only thing I know she is doing is that she is continuing to scam people and institutions out of money. All of a sudden I'm getting debt collector bills and phone calls at my house for incidents that have happened in the last two months!! It's one thing to be 35 and unable to have a grasp on your own life for you and your two kids, but it's another thing to drag me into the games by giving out my address and phone number as if she were still living her. I promise anyone readying this blog that if I should, for whatever reason, decide I need to start scamming people as though I was trying to get a Senate seat or something, I am going to do this on my own!! I just don't understand why she needs to pull me down unto her sad little world.
That brings me to my real mother and trying to come to some final terms about her and her life and what she did to me and my sister. Currently I am in a very angry stage when I think about her. For those of you that are around me (or in regular contact with me), this unresolved anger may explain any short, curt, rude, or withdrawn behavior of late. I am just so full of anger and hate about her and her legacy that I can't keep enough of it in safely or even cry enough out from time to time. It keeps me up late much or the week and has me more in contact with my darker side more than I am comfortable with.
It's bee too long and I think I really needed to start mentally organizing some thoughts before I make more specific posts I appreciate everyone's time that that take to either read and leave a comment (which I read and they are valuable to me) even if I don't get everyone's posted on the blog. They're very important to me, so please keep them coming!!
I will hopefully have more in the next week or possibly days.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Anxiety, Socializing, and Friends
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
I received a comment today about what I wrote yesterday. The swiftness aside, I was really floored that someone was able to make sense of that I wrote due to all the typos. They were bad, but they have since been dealt with.
So last night among many things I mentioned that I feel alienated and ostracized and after reading it I think I should just devote some time to talking about that specifically. Many people who read it expressed concern over this and we are having many dear friends come over on Saturday, so I feel I should explain it:
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
I received a comment today about what I wrote yesterday. The swiftness aside, I was really floored that someone was able to make sense of that I wrote due to all the typos. They were bad, but they have since been dealt with.
So last night among many things I mentioned that I feel alienated and ostracized and after reading it I think I should just devote some time to talking about that specifically. Many people who read it expressed concern over this and we are having many dear friends come over on Saturday, so I feel I should explain it:
First an foremost I am not currently depressed of suffering from it. I do not feel lonely. And as such I am liked away bellowing out sad piano ballads amongst piles of empty wine bottles and dirty kids. I am fine.
Well as fine as any new40 year old male is after realizing he isn't going to hit a HR to win the World Series, Become an astronaut, spy, actor, or President. I am glad on all those stereotypical accounts just for the sheer fact alone that I don't think I would have found Meva, so it worked out well there
What my voice was saying is that when I get stressed or anxious and have difficulty focusing or following certain rules (people aren't food, it's never OK to maim,,,,,,) My mind seriously flies about everything that goes on in my mind and as a result I shared some of them.
That being said I've heard from more than 7 people about that last one and let me explain something: The original words are fueled by that said same anxiety and like much of this blog that are unfiltered. So if you're one of those people, just stop reading because it's not for you.
But the truth of the situation is that I am feeling a bit alienated. There are so many difficulties and obstacles for all of us that it is so very hard to get together, I think we all know that. But the fears and frustrations that I let out concerned fundamental truths about my social life and who I interact with.quite franky I adhorr it.
I find myself missing out on simple get togethers or notinvited to get togethers or chances to learn and grow, but for what ever reason those things never happen. And yeah it sucks because no matter how great my family is, I need some time to just go out by myself.
My best buddy lives too damn far for us to do much of anything and I've just about lost touch with those around me. Some are busy with this part of my life, a part I went through myself, so I know to give them space right now.
But there are options, there always are. I have friends, albeit busy, they have time to do things, but those things are always without me. I've asked to join, offered to just be there and observe and there were never responses or returns.
The life I have is such that I already have plenty to do and that's what I focus on.
I sincerely hope that helps
Well as fine as any new40 year old male is after realizing he isn't going to hit a HR to win the World Series, Become an astronaut, spy, actor, or President. I am glad on all those stereotypical accounts just for the sheer fact alone that I don't think I would have found Meva, so it worked out well there
What my voice was saying is that when I get stressed or anxious and have difficulty focusing or following certain rules (people aren't food, it's never OK to maim,,,,,,) My mind seriously flies about everything that goes on in my mind and as a result I shared some of them.
That being said I've heard from more than 7 people about that last one and let me explain something: The original words are fueled by that said same anxiety and like much of this blog that are unfiltered. So if you're one of those people, just stop reading because it's not for you.
But the truth of the situation is that I am feeling a bit alienated. There are so many difficulties and obstacles for all of us that it is so very hard to get together, I think we all know that. But the fears and frustrations that I let out concerned fundamental truths about my social life and who I interact with.quite franky I adhorr it.
I find myself missing out on simple get togethers or notinvited to get togethers or chances to learn and grow, but for what ever reason those things never happen. And yeah it sucks because no matter how great my family is, I need some time to just go out by myself.
My best buddy lives too damn far for us to do much of anything and I've just about lost touch with those around me. Some are busy with this part of my life, a part I went through myself, so I know to give them space right now.
But there are options, there always are. I have friends, albeit busy, they have time to do things, but those things are always without me. I've asked to join, offered to just be there and observe and there were never responses or returns.
The life I have is such that I already have plenty to do and that's what I focus on.
I sincerely hope that helps
Thursday, March 19, 2009
There's a sign up ahead.
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
For the last 5 plus months I've had some anxiety issues that I needed help with. Without boring everyone here with a 5 month time line of events that are really only interesting to me and those crazies who will read this when I am gone.
I was taking an anti-anxiety pill called Ativan at 1milligram strength as I needed them, until they ran out.. My math may be wrong, but it's about 4 time as powerful as a Klonopin. However, after I stopped taking them my stress, frustration, and anxiety all returned in full and tried to deal with it alone. Well, enough is enough, and I started a new plan today. Although I am not anxious or nervous or anything at the moment, I am a bit tired and restless this first night. We'll see how things go for a few weeks and make an assessment.
One of the most immediate things this (being relaxed) is allowing for me tonight, is to just make a list of what's been getting on my nerves, hopefully with out using names, but I might deem it necessary later. So, I'll just make a list and some lines might be briefly explained, some might not have anything., so let's give this a try:
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
For the last 5 plus months I've had some anxiety issues that I needed help with. Without boring everyone here with a 5 month time line of events that are really only interesting to me and those crazies who will read this when I am gone.
I was taking an anti-anxiety pill called Ativan at 1milligram strength as I needed them, until they ran out.. My math may be wrong, but it's about 4 time as powerful as a Klonopin. However, after I stopped taking them my stress, frustration, and anxiety all returned in full and tried to deal with it alone. Well, enough is enough, and I started a new plan today. Although I am not anxious or nervous or anything at the moment, I am a bit tired and restless this first night. We'll see how things go for a few weeks and make an assessment.
One of the most immediate things this (being relaxed) is allowing for me tonight, is to just make a list of what's been getting on my nerves, hopefully with out using names, but I might deem it necessary later. So, I'll just make a list and some lines might be briefly explained, some might not have anything., so let's give this a try:
- I'm still pissed off at Tim Doran. Regardless of being a positive parental role model for my wife and kids, I'm going to fight him if I get the chance. I'll never get that money he owes me, but that type of dangerous and extreme reaction Will make me feel much better. Any compensation after the said beating would almost get rid of this anxiety that creeps up at me every week
- My wife is a priestess of Zoroaster. For every thing about her that stresses me or gets under my skin she is doubly effective at giving me strength, security, and unconditional love. We love passionately and strongly and that causes stress, frustration, and anxiety all on their own. But those same traits lead to great reconciliations. I wouldn't have it any other way.
- My family has the power to destroy whole days and weeks with their lies and shennangins and manipulations. No matter how much I try to divest myself completely of them for the rest of my life, I can't. SO I know I will always be open Getting shit on at various times. That's fine, I know special way to handle them.
- The absolute biggest threat to me is our finances. It weighs on me every single day; it is always in the back of my head when I am trying to focus during the day, and it single handily keeps me from sleeping. It often sends me into uncontrollable fits of shaking and heavy heart pounding. Everyone has those issues too, so I fell guilty in the end for not dealing with this better.
- This feeds into the above with the above. Despite that we are keeping a step ahead, I feel weak and sad that I am not contributing in some monetary fashion We are so limited by Meva's work schedule, which prevents me from getting any type of even part time job, and the few I've pursued have balked. So, I bring this pressure all on myself.
- I mentioned family before, but I'm going to mention two people again, that's Traci and my mother (This isn't a usual rant about her). Keeping this short, Teri paid for Traci and her daughters to come down and help out during her last weeks or months. By all accounts it was a bust, with Traci taking my mother's medication that she used for end stage pain management and becoming a threat and hazard to everyone around her. Two weeks prior to my mother's passing she moved hack to Illinois, but she couldn't afford the money for her oldest daughter, so she left her in Teri's care. Well its still a big mess that weighs on me because it is similar to and worse than the transient lifestyle of my childhood. Traci is going from cheap hotel room to the next, to loose friends and questionable elements all around. TO top it off, her behavior over the last few weeks strongly suggest that she is hitting what ever drugs she's doing very hard since she received her income tax money..My worry and stress is about my nieces. Should they survive this lifestyle, there are other deadly elements that are much closer and with easy access to two pretty little girls for whatever deviant desire they lose control of or give in to? I then become frustrated with my mother, because of all the battles her and I fought about concerning Traci and that the opportunity to teach her how to break this cycle and be able to take care of her self and family was now, not later. The fates of my nieces frustrates me and gets me to the point where I am shaking and going through anxiety attacks., It's just not something I can always work with on my own.
- I quite honestly feel alienated, of ostracized by my friends. I need companionship and company from time to time. But it is dead. My socializing has come almost to a standstill. I'm saying this because I feel I'm always avoided or excluded from activities or when I try to initiate something, it just doesn't come together. So I'm left feeling no one is interested in anything I suggest and things that other's put together exclude me. I've tried to politely show interest in whatever it is, only to either be told the something won't work with me or the room is immediately filled with regret and hesitation that is never hidden enough for me not to feel it, so I detach from the project or activity on my own. I'm not looking for fucking pity, so unless someone generally wants me there, I'm not going to be the off number! I know having kids effects my perceived availability, but they aren't attached to me all the time. In the end I feel like I've become the equivalent of a facebook friend.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Father
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
Many people in my life know that I've had problems with my father for so many years now that all I've ever said is that he wasn't a part of my life and that I always considered Louis Cicirello as my Dad because he was there for me when my own father wasn't.
This is something that took place over 27 or so years growing up. Lou influenced me, guided me, inspired me, and if you knew him (or caught a lecture), you understand that man could frustrate me! But I absolutely loved him and for years I openly pointed to him as my father and professed my love for him. And when I talk about my father, it is equally important to understand this about me.
After losing both Lou and my Mother in less than 9 months, my father unexpectedly called me and wanted to be a part of my life! Yeah, I was floored. Absolutely blindsided. This wasn't something I thought would ever happen. I believed it so much that the night before he called my wife and I were talking about my relationship with him and she wanted to know what he could possibly do at this point. I told her, as frankly and honestly as I could, that "All he needs to do is to just make an attempt to get in touch with me and tell me he's not happy with the way things are, and that he wasn't to work on that and have me be a part of his life." But I also said I don't think it will ever happen. Of course he calls the very next morning saying pretty much that exact thing.
This was two months ago and we've averaged talking at least once a week. It's been awkward at times for both of us I think, as well as his wife and my brothers, but I think everyone is trying to go forward with a fresh start and committed to making this work. That is all I've ever wanted from him.
But if you've read any of my blogs, specifically this one, you know that I have been openly critical and angry at him over the past. I know that some people on his side of the family have read them and our upset and concerned as a result.I can totally appreciate that, because the things I wrote were very harsh and critical of him and his actions. I have no doubt that they are/were hard for them to read and it hurt them. I respect that, but I also respect myself and my right to feel anyway I do. But how I feel isn't indicative of how I think or how I act, or even what I dream of. While I won't take back the things I said, I have chosen to work past them and build a new, stronger, father-son bond from this point forward.
None of the above means I am forgetting the past or even excusing it. But the only way I can understand it, and then hopefully put it behind me, is to move forward with the best intentions and maybe wear his shoes for awhile. I know there will be nothing that will absolve him of his actions, and I don't necessarily think he is looking for that. A great example of this is something he told me recently which made perfect sense for some of the choices he made, but when I look at it as an adult, and as a father, I will always believe he should have chosen differently. But definitely understand where he came from and how someone could make the choices he did as a result.
One of the things we have talked about in regards to the two of us is the importance of my mother. It was her death that I feel ultimately lead to him reaching out to me. I felt that from the beginning. And as we talked about the past and the present, something came out that explained a lot to me, or to put it another way, it moved a curtain and allowed me to see something I couldn't see before. He said that source behind many of his decisions was that he didn't want to have my mother involved in his life.
I know that feeling all too well. My mother could be difficult and spending time with her wasn't easy, rarely relaxing, and often forced a person to keep their guard up, and this is coming from her son! I can only imagine how much more intense it might have been for my father.
Telling me that brought me closer to him. I understood him and could easily relate to the pressures and obligations he was under when having to deal with my mother. It kept me away from here at the end of her life, so I can easily see him making that choice himself. I still don't agree with it, but understanding makes a world of difference and that is the reason I choose to go forward and learn and not stay in the past and judge.
I had originally planned on writing about being 40 again but as I got into it I decided I couldn't avoid thinking about something else that I have been putting off talking about here for quite awhile, so my getting old, rocking chair rant will have to wait. I'm going to talk about my father.
After years of conflict and tension I now have a relationship with my father and it's a positive one. I never really expected this to happen and it is mind boggling to be in this position.
A year ago I would have doubted this ever happening, but it is today's fact.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
Many people in my life know that I've had problems with my father for so many years now that all I've ever said is that he wasn't a part of my life and that I always considered Louis Cicirello as my Dad because he was there for me when my own father wasn't.
This is something that took place over 27 or so years growing up. Lou influenced me, guided me, inspired me, and if you knew him (or caught a lecture), you understand that man could frustrate me! But I absolutely loved him and for years I openly pointed to him as my father and professed my love for him. And when I talk about my father, it is equally important to understand this about me.
After losing both Lou and my Mother in less than 9 months, my father unexpectedly called me and wanted to be a part of my life! Yeah, I was floored. Absolutely blindsided. This wasn't something I thought would ever happen. I believed it so much that the night before he called my wife and I were talking about my relationship with him and she wanted to know what he could possibly do at this point. I told her, as frankly and honestly as I could, that "All he needs to do is to just make an attempt to get in touch with me and tell me he's not happy with the way things are, and that he wasn't to work on that and have me be a part of his life." But I also said I don't think it will ever happen. Of course he calls the very next morning saying pretty much that exact thing.
This was two months ago and we've averaged talking at least once a week. It's been awkward at times for both of us I think, as well as his wife and my brothers, but I think everyone is trying to go forward with a fresh start and committed to making this work. That is all I've ever wanted from him.
But if you've read any of my blogs, specifically this one, you know that I have been openly critical and angry at him over the past. I know that some people on his side of the family have read them and our upset and concerned as a result.I can totally appreciate that, because the things I wrote were very harsh and critical of him and his actions. I have no doubt that they are/were hard for them to read and it hurt them. I respect that, but I also respect myself and my right to feel anyway I do. But how I feel isn't indicative of how I think or how I act, or even what I dream of. While I won't take back the things I said, I have chosen to work past them and build a new, stronger, father-son bond from this point forward.
None of the above means I am forgetting the past or even excusing it. But the only way I can understand it, and then hopefully put it behind me, is to move forward with the best intentions and maybe wear his shoes for awhile. I know there will be nothing that will absolve him of his actions, and I don't necessarily think he is looking for that. A great example of this is something he told me recently which made perfect sense for some of the choices he made, but when I look at it as an adult, and as a father, I will always believe he should have chosen differently. But definitely understand where he came from and how someone could make the choices he did as a result.
One of the things we have talked about in regards to the two of us is the importance of my mother. It was her death that I feel ultimately lead to him reaching out to me. I felt that from the beginning. And as we talked about the past and the present, something came out that explained a lot to me, or to put it another way, it moved a curtain and allowed me to see something I couldn't see before. He said that source behind many of his decisions was that he didn't want to have my mother involved in his life.
I know that feeling all too well. My mother could be difficult and spending time with her wasn't easy, rarely relaxing, and often forced a person to keep their guard up, and this is coming from her son! I can only imagine how much more intense it might have been for my father.
Telling me that brought me closer to him. I understood him and could easily relate to the pressures and obligations he was under when having to deal with my mother. It kept me away from here at the end of her life, so I can easily see him making that choice himself. I still don't agree with it, but understanding makes a world of difference and that is the reason I choose to go forward and learn and not stay in the past and judge.
I had originally planned on writing about being 40 again but as I got into it I decided I couldn't avoid thinking about something else that I have been putting off talking about here for quite awhile, so my getting old, rocking chair rant will have to wait. I'm going to talk about my father.
After years of conflict and tension I now have a relationship with my father and it's a positive one. I never really expected this to happen and it is mind boggling to be in this position.
A year ago I would have doubted this ever happening, but it is today's fact.
Friday, March 6, 2009
We Interrupt This Angst To Bring You More Angst
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
Normally I talk about things, events, and people that are bothering me in one fashion or another and they're almost exclusively family members. I'm going to take a step back and try to do some introspection about myself because quite frankly, I'm bothering me.
I briefly mentioned this on Desultory Views, but I think this is a better venue to get more indepth. Turning 40 is bothering me, but not for the normal reasons. I don't think it's the midlife crisis type of crap that I see and hear others go through. I've got no desire to prove my youth with promiscuity or idiotic behavior. I don't need to defy death or laugh at danger. If anything I feel very satisfied and complete along those lines. So as usual there is this bizarre Chuck spin to things.
It's taken me a bit to pin point what is bothering me, and as I've gotten closer to my birthday I've had a tougher and tougher go of, well, things I guess. I'm having quite a bit of trouble relaxing or sleeping. I feel constantly on edge. Not really restless, but more anticipating and waiting for something unpleasant to happen. The most direct result of this is my lack of patience. Generally speaking it can be damn near nonexistent at times, especially in the face of stupidity, ignorance, and poor behavior from others, but lately I find that I am almost embracing a discord of laothing. I hate that and all the unpleasantness and negativity it breeds.
But at night I find myself just wanting to be alone, but I don't want to go to sleep. It's the only time I have quiet and some sense of calm and it invites reflection, which I notice I am subconsciously avoiding with distractions of any kind. As I try to fight this insomnia monster with mental discipline (failed), structure (failed), and even medicine (failed), I fear the prolonged affects of my defeats are taking their tole on me physically and if I am honest, emotionally too.
My eating habits are piss poor and I spend my mornings feeling like a zombie as I pump myself with enough caffeine to possibly raise the dead (or Dick Cheney! Hahahahaha. I'm trying to not be so somber here---work with me) and by then the late afternoons and evenings find me jumpy, grumpy, and suffering. I'm artifically stimulated from the caffeine that I need in the mornings at this point and it gets my mind racing and leaves me anxious.
I spend my time trying to avoid thinking about two very distinct, but kind of related things: accomplishments and appearance. I think about myself at 40 and I don't feel like I've accomplished much aside from college, donating sperm, and babysitting. Yeah, I know that's an extremely negative view, but if I could avoid that I wouldn't be posting now and trying to work through it now would I?
The issue of appearance is simple, I am out of shape and it disturbs me. There are the obvious health reasons, but I find myself thinking of how embarassed my children will be by having a fat daddy. God it stresses me out and fills me with shame, self-loathing, and anger like I rarely experience. And to make matters worse, I keep this bottled up. Solutions are obvious, but the paths to them have once again become daunting and difficult.
And then there is the lack of accomplishments. As rewarding as staying at home with the triplets is, it is also mind-numbingly boring. I often find myself feeling like a horse that has been put to pasture after he can no longer compete. It doesn't help that money is extremely tight and working would help us out tremendously. So I find my mind wandering, looking at myself and where I'm at and what I've accomplished. Quite frankly its not enough and its obviously not fulfilling.
So coupled with my reservations on my appearance and hitting the milestone of 40, the lack of sleep, the anxiety, and stress that I've been bottling is starting to show itself physically. From aches and pains, to headaches and migraines, to nausea, and anxiety type panic attacks, I feel a total mess. There are times, most often when everyone has gone to sleep for the night or when the triplets are down for a nap, that my hands just shake, and my heart races, and I feel like everything is caving in on me. In the back of my mind I keep hoping that it will all pass once I turn 40 and I am past that and can see that everything really is ok. But even then I doubt I'll feel better because the truth is that regardless of age, what's bothering me has nothing to do with how old I am, but whether or not I've been as productive as I think I should.
So I hope that everyone who has undoutedly picked up on my mood swings, distance, or lack of patience will understand and not take this personal as I work through this.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
***************************************************************
Normally I talk about things, events, and people that are bothering me in one fashion or another and they're almost exclusively family members. I'm going to take a step back and try to do some introspection about myself because quite frankly, I'm bothering me.
I briefly mentioned this on Desultory Views, but I think this is a better venue to get more indepth. Turning 40 is bothering me, but not for the normal reasons. I don't think it's the midlife crisis type of crap that I see and hear others go through. I've got no desire to prove my youth with promiscuity or idiotic behavior. I don't need to defy death or laugh at danger. If anything I feel very satisfied and complete along those lines. So as usual there is this bizarre Chuck spin to things.
It's taken me a bit to pin point what is bothering me, and as I've gotten closer to my birthday I've had a tougher and tougher go of, well, things I guess. I'm having quite a bit of trouble relaxing or sleeping. I feel constantly on edge. Not really restless, but more anticipating and waiting for something unpleasant to happen. The most direct result of this is my lack of patience. Generally speaking it can be damn near nonexistent at times, especially in the face of stupidity, ignorance, and poor behavior from others, but lately I find that I am almost embracing a discord of laothing. I hate that and all the unpleasantness and negativity it breeds.
But at night I find myself just wanting to be alone, but I don't want to go to sleep. It's the only time I have quiet and some sense of calm and it invites reflection, which I notice I am subconsciously avoiding with distractions of any kind. As I try to fight this insomnia monster with mental discipline (failed), structure (failed), and even medicine (failed), I fear the prolonged affects of my defeats are taking their tole on me physically and if I am honest, emotionally too.
My eating habits are piss poor and I spend my mornings feeling like a zombie as I pump myself with enough caffeine to possibly raise the dead (or Dick Cheney! Hahahahaha. I'm trying to not be so somber here---work with me) and by then the late afternoons and evenings find me jumpy, grumpy, and suffering. I'm artifically stimulated from the caffeine that I need in the mornings at this point and it gets my mind racing and leaves me anxious.
I spend my time trying to avoid thinking about two very distinct, but kind of related things: accomplishments and appearance. I think about myself at 40 and I don't feel like I've accomplished much aside from college, donating sperm, and babysitting. Yeah, I know that's an extremely negative view, but if I could avoid that I wouldn't be posting now and trying to work through it now would I?
The issue of appearance is simple, I am out of shape and it disturbs me. There are the obvious health reasons, but I find myself thinking of how embarassed my children will be by having a fat daddy. God it stresses me out and fills me with shame, self-loathing, and anger like I rarely experience. And to make matters worse, I keep this bottled up. Solutions are obvious, but the paths to them have once again become daunting and difficult.
And then there is the lack of accomplishments. As rewarding as staying at home with the triplets is, it is also mind-numbingly boring. I often find myself feeling like a horse that has been put to pasture after he can no longer compete. It doesn't help that money is extremely tight and working would help us out tremendously. So I find my mind wandering, looking at myself and where I'm at and what I've accomplished. Quite frankly its not enough and its obviously not fulfilling.
So coupled with my reservations on my appearance and hitting the milestone of 40, the lack of sleep, the anxiety, and stress that I've been bottling is starting to show itself physically. From aches and pains, to headaches and migraines, to nausea, and anxiety type panic attacks, I feel a total mess. There are times, most often when everyone has gone to sleep for the night or when the triplets are down for a nap, that my hands just shake, and my heart races, and I feel like everything is caving in on me. In the back of my mind I keep hoping that it will all pass once I turn 40 and I am past that and can see that everything really is ok. But even then I doubt I'll feel better because the truth is that regardless of age, what's bothering me has nothing to do with how old I am, but whether or not I've been as productive as I think I should.
So I hope that everyone who has undoutedly picked up on my mood swings, distance, or lack of patience will understand and not take this personal as I work through this.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Why
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
********************************************************************************
My last post mentioned the newly discovered popularity of my blog. I was more concerned with explaining the changes I was making as a result of this rather than addressing new issues that have come from it. I am prepared to do that now.
The primary focus of the blog has been relationships, specifically my relationship with my mother and my father, but I have also touched upon my wife, my sisters, my aunts, and my brothers. At least that's what I remember of the top of my head. And each time I've written about them, the context if thoroughly based on my perceptions. Guess what, it's my blog, so why wouldn't it? But the thing is that each examination is really an opportunity to focus my thoughts into something workable and nondestructive.
That means that when I come across as bitching and moaning, I am doing just that. What's different is that I am courageously doing what most of us never do, and that is I am airing my thoughts as I have them, unfiltered, unscrutinized, and unapologetically there for myself, and others, to see. I do this because I have the penchant to ignore my feelings and leave issues unresolved, allowing them to fester in until they come out in the most unhealthy ways, often directed at people who had nothing to do with anything. So instead of having cross words, or writing emails and letters that are completely uncalled for and mean-spirited, I can go back and look at what I wrote and organize my thoughts and feelings into a healthy response.
If you can't understand this, or the logic and reason behind this, then I would challenge you to get your head out of your ass and try acting mature.
I find currently myself at a crossroads in my life (sorry for the cliche) transitioning from a life with my mother to one without it. While you can never fully be prepared emotionally for this, I at least saw this coming ahead of time. Despite this, I made the decision not to cave in to pressure from my family and continue my distance from my mother and basically not talk to her, although in her final days I did write her a letter that she probably wasn't able to read, hear, or understand. I am OK with that. It's not what I would have liked to have had happen, but that's how it ended.
As her death has passed, I've taken slings and shots over my decision not to "forgive" her and talk to her and tell her I loved her. My sisters and aunts had a hard time with this, and I can totally appreciate that. They weren't ready for my mother to die at such a relatively early age, and quite frankly neither was I. Things were said that weren't helpful and were taken as mean and hurtful, but I choose to believe they were unintentional and I have to believe that they were all still so very said and hurt over the loss of my mother. I think any mature adult would be able to forgive some ill-spoken words that came out of that time. I know I have.
However, there have been hushed comments and whispers that remain long after what I deem to be an appropriate amount of time for people to get themselves together. Whether it is these hushed remarks or hate-filled emails from misanthropic and hubris filled, emotionally stunted people is irrelevant. I think, since this blog is also serving other people, that I should explain myself a bit on the subject of my mother and why I didn't talk to her during her final days.
My mother betrayed me. That's how this came to pass. Click on the link to read how (or refresh your memory) because I'm not going to summarize it here. What she did was horrible, and she acknowledged that in a phone message she left for me. But if you knew her you also know that she didn't have a clean slate up until that time, it was just the final straw in a history of abuse, neglect, and manipulation. I'm not trying to bad mouth her now that she is gone, but I'm also not going to lie and pretend these things didn't happen either.
So, once she betrayed me, I decided I wasn't going to keep her in my life. I wasn't going to make a huge speech or grand statement declaring my intentions and burn bridges in the process, I just pulled back, refused calls, and didn't initiate anything. The only plan I had was to make sure I didn't allow her to hurt me again. Those closest to me applauded this decision and to this day I know it was the right one.
Since then, I've been asked by many people what my mother could have done to make me change my mind. My wife, my friends, my therapist Ivan, and even my father have all wanted to know. I think it's important to acknowledge this question and answer it here, because it is the absence of these actions by her that allowed me to continue my distance and silence into the rest of her life.
As I recently told my father, I do no regret my actions or decisions. My mother could have shown me that she was truly sorry for what she had done by removing the burden and responsibility of forcing her children, let me be more specific and just call it accurately and say Teri, of having to anguish through making decisions that she should have made on her own. She had over a year to set her affairs in motion, to sign a living will, to request a DNR status, and to name Teri the medical power of attorney. She also had that time to secure life insurance so that Teri and her sisters were stuck paying for her death arrangements.
She didn't.
My mother lost me in her life indirectly because of how not taking responsibility for that can hurt and affect those you love. Yet she did nothing, or to be fair, if she did I wasn't aware of it. At the very least, I know that with the exception of getting life insurance, she didn't need money to take care of her loved ones.
As much as I loved her, and I absolutely did love her, this characterized her life. She always looked for someone else to be responsible for her. Emotionally, socially, and financially, she never had accountability. Even up to the end, I prayed every night for her, and hoped that she would finally take action and for once do what was right. But we know she didn't. So how could I accept her back into my life when I knew exactly what was coming?
My niece and nephew can hate me for taking this stance, so can anyone else. But they didn't have to listen to all the pain and torment in my sister's voice when she told me about how much she suffered trying to do right by my mother. My sister Teri loves them both far too much to have let them hear the hurt, the pain, and the fear in her voice while she second guessed herself and her actions. My sister was a true hero and I don't think my mother deserved the selfless devotion that Teri gave to her. But I heard how tore up Teri was over whether to keep my mother alive by a machine yet dead in her soul.
I have seen my sister go through some tough times in her life, but I have never heard her so low as the she was then. That wasn't fair to her. It could have been avoided. But my mother choose not to. That's why I didn't change my mind. That's why I do not regret my actions or choices. I loved my mother, but I could not support what she was doing. I love my sister and I am so sorry that she went through that, and hell she's probably still hurting from that.
So to anyone out there that wants to judge me, that wants to attack me or comment on me. You go ahead. I stood by and supported the right decisions.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
********************************************************************************
My last post mentioned the newly discovered popularity of my blog. I was more concerned with explaining the changes I was making as a result of this rather than addressing new issues that have come from it. I am prepared to do that now.
The primary focus of the blog has been relationships, specifically my relationship with my mother and my father, but I have also touched upon my wife, my sisters, my aunts, and my brothers. At least that's what I remember of the top of my head. And each time I've written about them, the context if thoroughly based on my perceptions. Guess what, it's my blog, so why wouldn't it? But the thing is that each examination is really an opportunity to focus my thoughts into something workable and nondestructive.
That means that when I come across as bitching and moaning, I am doing just that. What's different is that I am courageously doing what most of us never do, and that is I am airing my thoughts as I have them, unfiltered, unscrutinized, and unapologetically there for myself, and others, to see. I do this because I have the penchant to ignore my feelings and leave issues unresolved, allowing them to fester in until they come out in the most unhealthy ways, often directed at people who had nothing to do with anything. So instead of having cross words, or writing emails and letters that are completely uncalled for and mean-spirited, I can go back and look at what I wrote and organize my thoughts and feelings into a healthy response.
If you can't understand this, or the logic and reason behind this, then I would challenge you to get your head out of your ass and try acting mature.
I find currently myself at a crossroads in my life (sorry for the cliche) transitioning from a life with my mother to one without it. While you can never fully be prepared emotionally for this, I at least saw this coming ahead of time. Despite this, I made the decision not to cave in to pressure from my family and continue my distance from my mother and basically not talk to her, although in her final days I did write her a letter that she probably wasn't able to read, hear, or understand. I am OK with that. It's not what I would have liked to have had happen, but that's how it ended.
As her death has passed, I've taken slings and shots over my decision not to "forgive" her and talk to her and tell her I loved her. My sisters and aunts had a hard time with this, and I can totally appreciate that. They weren't ready for my mother to die at such a relatively early age, and quite frankly neither was I. Things were said that weren't helpful and were taken as mean and hurtful, but I choose to believe they were unintentional and I have to believe that they were all still so very said and hurt over the loss of my mother. I think any mature adult would be able to forgive some ill-spoken words that came out of that time. I know I have.
However, there have been hushed comments and whispers that remain long after what I deem to be an appropriate amount of time for people to get themselves together. Whether it is these hushed remarks or hate-filled emails from misanthropic and hubris filled, emotionally stunted people is irrelevant. I think, since this blog is also serving other people, that I should explain myself a bit on the subject of my mother and why I didn't talk to her during her final days.
My mother betrayed me. That's how this came to pass. Click on the link to read how (or refresh your memory) because I'm not going to summarize it here. What she did was horrible, and she acknowledged that in a phone message she left for me. But if you knew her you also know that she didn't have a clean slate up until that time, it was just the final straw in a history of abuse, neglect, and manipulation. I'm not trying to bad mouth her now that she is gone, but I'm also not going to lie and pretend these things didn't happen either.
So, once she betrayed me, I decided I wasn't going to keep her in my life. I wasn't going to make a huge speech or grand statement declaring my intentions and burn bridges in the process, I just pulled back, refused calls, and didn't initiate anything. The only plan I had was to make sure I didn't allow her to hurt me again. Those closest to me applauded this decision and to this day I know it was the right one.
Since then, I've been asked by many people what my mother could have done to make me change my mind. My wife, my friends, my therapist Ivan, and even my father have all wanted to know. I think it's important to acknowledge this question and answer it here, because it is the absence of these actions by her that allowed me to continue my distance and silence into the rest of her life.
As I recently told my father, I do no regret my actions or decisions. My mother could have shown me that she was truly sorry for what she had done by removing the burden and responsibility of forcing her children, let me be more specific and just call it accurately and say Teri, of having to anguish through making decisions that she should have made on her own. She had over a year to set her affairs in motion, to sign a living will, to request a DNR status, and to name Teri the medical power of attorney. She also had that time to secure life insurance so that Teri and her sisters were stuck paying for her death arrangements.
She didn't.
My mother lost me in her life indirectly because of how not taking responsibility for that can hurt and affect those you love. Yet she did nothing, or to be fair, if she did I wasn't aware of it. At the very least, I know that with the exception of getting life insurance, she didn't need money to take care of her loved ones.
As much as I loved her, and I absolutely did love her, this characterized her life. She always looked for someone else to be responsible for her. Emotionally, socially, and financially, she never had accountability. Even up to the end, I prayed every night for her, and hoped that she would finally take action and for once do what was right. But we know she didn't. So how could I accept her back into my life when I knew exactly what was coming?
My niece and nephew can hate me for taking this stance, so can anyone else. But they didn't have to listen to all the pain and torment in my sister's voice when she told me about how much she suffered trying to do right by my mother. My sister Teri loves them both far too much to have let them hear the hurt, the pain, and the fear in her voice while she second guessed herself and her actions. My sister was a true hero and I don't think my mother deserved the selfless devotion that Teri gave to her. But I heard how tore up Teri was over whether to keep my mother alive by a machine yet dead in her soul.
I have seen my sister go through some tough times in her life, but I have never heard her so low as the she was then. That wasn't fair to her. It could have been avoided. But my mother choose not to. That's why I didn't change my mind. That's why I do not regret my actions or choices. I loved my mother, but I could not support what she was doing. I love my sister and I am so sorry that she went through that, and hell she's probably still hurting from that.
So to anyone out there that wants to judge me, that wants to attack me or comment on me. You go ahead. I stood by and supported the right decisions.
Popularity
****************************Disclaimer*****************************************
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
********************************************************************************
Apparently this blog has become popular with quite a few people. It is being talked about and shared, discussed and debated. Or so it sounds like to me. Unfortunately this is not a good thing because the content isn't something most people are able to deal with. To that end, I have made a few changes which I am hoping will help. The first is a better description of the blog and how to read it, which now appears at the sidebar. I've also decided that I need to include a disclaimer at the beginning of every post. It's cumbersome and annoying for both the reader and for me as I write, but it has to be here.
But this blog, while finite, is not going anywhere until it has run its course. I don't regret anything I've written and I'm not embarrassed either. I will continue to write posts and further examine my feelings and thoughts about a wide number of issues that I am dealing with. This is a positive tool for me and while I don't expect my detractors to agree or understand, they should know that without this outlet I would be quite confrontational and prone to hurt others. Perhaps I shouldn't be the only one thinking and examining their feelings, as well as those of others, after each post.
So, those are the changes and those are the reasons why. Hopefully this won't be too cumbersome.
If this is your first time visiting, you really need to start reading from the beginning. You can't possibly hope to understand the perspective and motivation for this blog without starting there. You can easily get to the beginning either from the sidebar, or by clicking here. Thanks.
********************************************************************************
Apparently this blog has become popular with quite a few people. It is being talked about and shared, discussed and debated. Or so it sounds like to me. Unfortunately this is not a good thing because the content isn't something most people are able to deal with. To that end, I have made a few changes which I am hoping will help. The first is a better description of the blog and how to read it, which now appears at the sidebar. I've also decided that I need to include a disclaimer at the beginning of every post. It's cumbersome and annoying for both the reader and for me as I write, but it has to be here.
But this blog, while finite, is not going anywhere until it has run its course. I don't regret anything I've written and I'm not embarrassed either. I will continue to write posts and further examine my feelings and thoughts about a wide number of issues that I am dealing with. This is a positive tool for me and while I don't expect my detractors to agree or understand, they should know that without this outlet I would be quite confrontational and prone to hurt others. Perhaps I shouldn't be the only one thinking and examining their feelings, as well as those of others, after each post.
So, those are the changes and those are the reasons why. Hopefully this won't be too cumbersome.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Hello???...............I'm not listening
The passage of time since my mother died is making this adjustment easier on me. Luckily (i think ) I had a tooth and gum infection set in shortly after wards that required some seriously extensive surgery to get rid of the tooth and fix the damage that was necessary to make to get it out. Anyways, that equaled plenty of pain and has taken my extra time to focusing on that after I do things for the wife and kids here.
So, thinking about her has lessened to the point I expect that very soon I will have my first day and possibly longer with out thinking about her. Both will be sad and welcome relief.
But I've not stood still throughout all of this. I am beginning to think about what my life's philosophy is and I am beginning to re-examine my outlook. I expect this will be a personal spiritual quest. I don't have much beyond that to share, so I will wait until that time to share it here.
I talked to two family members in the last week. My sister Teri and I talked for most of the hour. I still feel real bad for her because even though most of the things that need to be done are done, she's still exhausted and bewildered with her new life and that of her children. She also got a promotion at work that should help to make her life easier both financially and socially (with new hours). But she's still very angry, hurting, and it's going to be awhile before she can come to peace with all her feelings. She's just not ready to heal and let go of the pain yet and even then who knows what her mind set will be like.
I also got a call from my Aunt Gail today, kind of out of the blue. Teri mentioned to me that Gail wasn't doing well, which if you remember I said was obvious after Gail's telephone conversation with Traci. Gail and I talked about it, and of course Gail had a different perspective that didn't sound nearly as bad as what I was previously told was accurate--- no big surprise there. I took the quick way out and said that I didn't know what was said and didn't want to because it changes absolutely nothing. People are still upset about it (and the reasons they talked about it), nothing from the past has changed, and my mom is still dead.
But I think that Gail's reason for calling was to try and see how I was and just get a gauge of what I was thinking and feeling, which is to be commendable. She specifically said she didn't want to call earlier because she didn't know what to expect.
I was really caught off guard with this, due mostly to the pain I am in and the meds I am on.....I was unfortunately not on the top of my game (and because of that I think I did wonderfully since there was no fighting). But I don't remember exactly how we segued into different topics, but she brought up the division between my mother and I right before her death. I think she did a good job of not getting to judging me too much, but she was still a bit condemning of my actions. I had a chance to fire back about her own issues over a similar situation between her and my grandfather when he died and how that experience doesn't relate here, but with the risk of alienating her and causing her more pain or strife, I just repeated to her what I was upset about and why my actions were chosen. I actually started my reply by politely saying that it wasn't anyone's business but my mother's and mine. That all being said, Gail still went and made excuses for her and showed no understanding or even respect for me.
Next she began talking about my kids and how I need to be careful about letting things affect them through me and not to be poisonous and filled with vitriol when telling them about her. I tried very hard to focus on her motivation here, because I truly think she wanted to be helpful and protective. I am going to have to work to get past those comments because that actually really pissed me off. Regardless of being a parent, I am a much better human than to act like that. It's insulting to me to have someone, a relative especially, think so little of me that they think they're doing me a service. They have no previous recorded behavior to base that assumption on and have very little experience or knowledge of how I raise my kids, so it's fucking pathetic to me to take that stance. I'll get over it because I believe her heart was in the right place, but it just goes to show how much that they have no idea about who I really am, as well what my outlooks are on probably anything.
As I would tell Ivan my therapist, those are her issues to get over with, I just need to learn how to react to her and keep myself free from that type of shallow assumption making and conversation, which is about 85%-90% of how things are handled.
I won't be seeing Ivan until after the holidays, but one of the things we are going to work on and look at, is my desire to really break ties with all of my family once and for all. I don't want it to be a huge explosive battle when it happens, I'd much rather have things fade without commotion than anything else. We'll see.
So, thinking about her has lessened to the point I expect that very soon I will have my first day and possibly longer with out thinking about her. Both will be sad and welcome relief.
But I've not stood still throughout all of this. I am beginning to think about what my life's philosophy is and I am beginning to re-examine my outlook. I expect this will be a personal spiritual quest. I don't have much beyond that to share, so I will wait until that time to share it here.
I talked to two family members in the last week. My sister Teri and I talked for most of the hour. I still feel real bad for her because even though most of the things that need to be done are done, she's still exhausted and bewildered with her new life and that of her children. She also got a promotion at work that should help to make her life easier both financially and socially (with new hours). But she's still very angry, hurting, and it's going to be awhile before she can come to peace with all her feelings. She's just not ready to heal and let go of the pain yet and even then who knows what her mind set will be like.
I also got a call from my Aunt Gail today, kind of out of the blue. Teri mentioned to me that Gail wasn't doing well, which if you remember I said was obvious after Gail's telephone conversation with Traci. Gail and I talked about it, and of course Gail had a different perspective that didn't sound nearly as bad as what I was previously told was accurate--- no big surprise there. I took the quick way out and said that I didn't know what was said and didn't want to because it changes absolutely nothing. People are still upset about it (and the reasons they talked about it), nothing from the past has changed, and my mom is still dead.
But I think that Gail's reason for calling was to try and see how I was and just get a gauge of what I was thinking and feeling, which is to be commendable. She specifically said she didn't want to call earlier because she didn't know what to expect.
I was really caught off guard with this, due mostly to the pain I am in and the meds I am on.....I was unfortunately not on the top of my game (and because of that I think I did wonderfully since there was no fighting). But I don't remember exactly how we segued into different topics, but she brought up the division between my mother and I right before her death. I think she did a good job of not getting to judging me too much, but she was still a bit condemning of my actions. I had a chance to fire back about her own issues over a similar situation between her and my grandfather when he died and how that experience doesn't relate here, but with the risk of alienating her and causing her more pain or strife, I just repeated to her what I was upset about and why my actions were chosen. I actually started my reply by politely saying that it wasn't anyone's business but my mother's and mine. That all being said, Gail still went and made excuses for her and showed no understanding or even respect for me.
Next she began talking about my kids and how I need to be careful about letting things affect them through me and not to be poisonous and filled with vitriol when telling them about her. I tried very hard to focus on her motivation here, because I truly think she wanted to be helpful and protective. I am going to have to work to get past those comments because that actually really pissed me off. Regardless of being a parent, I am a much better human than to act like that. It's insulting to me to have someone, a relative especially, think so little of me that they think they're doing me a service. They have no previous recorded behavior to base that assumption on and have very little experience or knowledge of how I raise my kids, so it's fucking pathetic to me to take that stance. I'll get over it because I believe her heart was in the right place, but it just goes to show how much that they have no idea about who I really am, as well what my outlooks are on probably anything.
As I would tell Ivan my therapist, those are her issues to get over with, I just need to learn how to react to her and keep myself free from that type of shallow assumption making and conversation, which is about 85%-90% of how things are handled.
I won't be seeing Ivan until after the holidays, but one of the things we are going to work on and look at, is my desire to really break ties with all of my family once and for all. I don't want it to be a huge explosive battle when it happens, I'd much rather have things fade without commotion than anything else. We'll see.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Solitary
It's just about two weeks now since my mother died. I've flown through a ridiculous amount of emotions and feelings since then that I don't think I have anything left. I'm looking forward to my regularly scheduled therapy session tonight which I am hoping will help me find some perspective and start moving forward.
The hardest thing I am dealing with right now is that I don't feel connected to anyone any more. The thought of spending time with my friends is damn near revolting and stomach churning. Socializing seems very pointless right now because I don't see that it offers me anything and I doubt I would want to even contribute. Getting me to spend time with others is going to be like pulling teeth.
I just feel like I have so much work to do that it isn't even worth it to try and get together with people, regardless of the reason. To be quite honest, I no longer feel connected with anyone that I am friends with. I look at them, and besides the obvious polite conversation topics, they just seem to be bored by anything I bring up. So I don't. I usually take the excuse to watch the triplets and spend time with them and any other kids and pray for the time to pass quickly so I can make an early exit. I am sure it is all me, but I feel so disconnected from my friends that they seem foreign and strange. Maybe this is something to examine soon on here too, because even though I feel this way, I recognize it is not right.
At this point I just want to make sure I don't start hating people. Specifically my family. I know I don't want them in my life anymore, but I am having a bit of trouble shutting that door. It doesn't have to be for good, but honesty and logic suggest that it very well may be that way because they probably won't change. I think that once my sister has the final services for my mother here in Illinois that I will stop contacting anyone and just move on with my life. I think that is truly the best for me, and it's certainly the best for my wife and kids.
I wanted much more and for things to be so much better, but that was obviously never to be. And as I've said here before, I had control over myself, my words, and my actions, and I am proud of how I conducted myself in all those areas. Others had, and probably are still having, a hard time with them, but they are the ones who control their reactions,
I'll probably write more in a few days after I have had time to digest my therapy session tonight.
The hardest thing I am dealing with right now is that I don't feel connected to anyone any more. The thought of spending time with my friends is damn near revolting and stomach churning. Socializing seems very pointless right now because I don't see that it offers me anything and I doubt I would want to even contribute. Getting me to spend time with others is going to be like pulling teeth.
I just feel like I have so much work to do that it isn't even worth it to try and get together with people, regardless of the reason. To be quite honest, I no longer feel connected with anyone that I am friends with. I look at them, and besides the obvious polite conversation topics, they just seem to be bored by anything I bring up. So I don't. I usually take the excuse to watch the triplets and spend time with them and any other kids and pray for the time to pass quickly so I can make an early exit. I am sure it is all me, but I feel so disconnected from my friends that they seem foreign and strange. Maybe this is something to examine soon on here too, because even though I feel this way, I recognize it is not right.
At this point I just want to make sure I don't start hating people. Specifically my family. I know I don't want them in my life anymore, but I am having a bit of trouble shutting that door. It doesn't have to be for good, but honesty and logic suggest that it very well may be that way because they probably won't change. I think that once my sister has the final services for my mother here in Illinois that I will stop contacting anyone and just move on with my life. I think that is truly the best for me, and it's certainly the best for my wife and kids.
I wanted much more and for things to be so much better, but that was obviously never to be. And as I've said here before, I had control over myself, my words, and my actions, and I am proud of how I conducted myself in all those areas. Others had, and probably are still having, a hard time with them, but they are the ones who control their reactions,
I'll probably write more in a few days after I have had time to digest my therapy session tonight.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Silence From Dreamscape
I mentioned last time that much of what I've been experiencing with memories has been dream related. Last night I had a particularly weird and disturbing dream. There is nothing too fancy about it, but in my dream I was watching myself, sitting in a wooden chair and words just appeared before me. They were initially random, like screwdriver or birds nest or lettuce, but eventually they became names, mean cruel names. As I watched this happening, I watched myself start to cry. It felt like forever as this happened, cruel words flashing in front of me calling me names, and I just sat there and cried by myself.
Eventually my family slowly became visible behind, talking to themselves and not even acknowledging me. My mother was there and so was my father, and all the while the words kept appearing in front of me and my crying seemed to be harder. Then the words stopped and snapshots of my life came into play, all sad and all continuing to keep me crying. I remember turning uncomfortably in bed while this was going and and I think I may have briefly woke a time or two during this. Then everything started switching back and forth between the mean words and images to the point they were intermingling. Slowly everything started to get dimmer and my family faded out one by one.
As it got darker and I was alone again I could see my face was red and swollen from my crying and I looked to be about 23 or 24 years old. As the last person of my family faded out, everything but the words and images were in shadows. I saw myself put my head down and put my face in my hands. I looked ashamed as I began to sob uncontrollably.
This went on for quite awhile until I suddenly stood up and wiped my eyes with my arm and just looked around at all the shadows and in the direction of where my family had been. After awhile I turned and looked at myself and I could see my face was still red and swollen and damp from crying, but it scared me because my eyes were bright red. I watched myself looking at me for a bit and then I shrugged and walked by to the chair, picked it up and beat it into the floor, shattering it.
Everything seemed to be getting darker and I could hardly see. The words came back and I saw myself look up at them and they were replaced by a picture of my wife and kids. They were all playing and the kids seemed older. They were running around on a path in some mountain, and the kids were yelling "Hike, Hike, Hike" with Meva leading the way. After a bit, Ryan started yelling, "Daddy, Are You? and looking around. Meva and the kids began looking for me and they all turned around and looked out of the image at me and began calling to me and waving. I watched myself watch this, wiping more tears from my face, and then I walked into the picture.
Everything else went black and then the words started to appear again, this time in front of me and I realized I was sitting in a chair. At that point I woke up. I was exhausted, had tears in my eyes, and I just felt terrible. I still do.
If you're into dream interpretation, there's a lot there to comment on. I see it myself.
I find it interesting that I had that dream and in reality my family isn't calling me. I really wanted, despite everything, to make sure they were OK and doing well, but they just aren't calling me, and when I do call them, it's a pretty short call in which it seems they are eager to get off the phone. So be it I suppose.
Nothing in the dream, no matter how terrible, makes me regret the choices I made. I know they were the right one for me and that everything I did it for and everything I thought would come of it seems to be beginning. The sooner it starts, the sooner I'll be through with it too, and that's what I am waiting for.
Eventually my family slowly became visible behind, talking to themselves and not even acknowledging me. My mother was there and so was my father, and all the while the words kept appearing in front of me and my crying seemed to be harder. Then the words stopped and snapshots of my life came into play, all sad and all continuing to keep me crying. I remember turning uncomfortably in bed while this was going and and I think I may have briefly woke a time or two during this. Then everything started switching back and forth between the mean words and images to the point they were intermingling. Slowly everything started to get dimmer and my family faded out one by one.
As it got darker and I was alone again I could see my face was red and swollen from my crying and I looked to be about 23 or 24 years old. As the last person of my family faded out, everything but the words and images were in shadows. I saw myself put my head down and put my face in my hands. I looked ashamed as I began to sob uncontrollably.
This went on for quite awhile until I suddenly stood up and wiped my eyes with my arm and just looked around at all the shadows and in the direction of where my family had been. After awhile I turned and looked at myself and I could see my face was still red and swollen and damp from crying, but it scared me because my eyes were bright red. I watched myself looking at me for a bit and then I shrugged and walked by to the chair, picked it up and beat it into the floor, shattering it.
Everything seemed to be getting darker and I could hardly see. The words came back and I saw myself look up at them and they were replaced by a picture of my wife and kids. They were all playing and the kids seemed older. They were running around on a path in some mountain, and the kids were yelling "Hike, Hike, Hike" with Meva leading the way. After a bit, Ryan started yelling, "Daddy, Are You? and looking around. Meva and the kids began looking for me and they all turned around and looked out of the image at me and began calling to me and waving. I watched myself watch this, wiping more tears from my face, and then I walked into the picture.
Everything else went black and then the words started to appear again, this time in front of me and I realized I was sitting in a chair. At that point I woke up. I was exhausted, had tears in my eyes, and I just felt terrible. I still do.
If you're into dream interpretation, there's a lot there to comment on. I see it myself.
I find it interesting that I had that dream and in reality my family isn't calling me. I really wanted, despite everything, to make sure they were OK and doing well, but they just aren't calling me, and when I do call them, it's a pretty short call in which it seems they are eager to get off the phone. So be it I suppose.
Nothing in the dream, no matter how terrible, makes me regret the choices I made. I know they were the right one for me and that everything I did it for and everything I thought would come of it seems to be beginning. The sooner it starts, the sooner I'll be through with it too, and that's what I am waiting for.
Rage & Legacy
I think I am a mess. An absolute and total mess.
I have so many emotions and memories fighting inside of me and influencing my mood and thoughts I am just barely able to function each day. Depression isn't even close to how am I feeling right now. In everything I feel and think, there is such a powerful and emotional intensity that rages within me. I spend the days fighting this and they end with me mentally and physically exhausted.
I'm not ashamed to say that the things my sister told me the night my mother died bothered me. Even though I believe that my mother now knows the truth of how I feel, I'm hurt that there was a chance my final words didn't make it to her, and because of how mentally unstable she was she didn't get to here those words for the last time. My god does that bother me. I could live with it if I had dragged my feet and didn't send my goodbyes in time, but I sent them almost a week before she died and my sister never said anything to me, and I just don't like the reasons I come up with as to why almost 4 days had to pass before I called her on it and she then told me she didn't get it. Those were important days, the last days of her lucidity, and it taken not just from me, but also from her. I don't even know if it's worth going into right now, the reasons for that delay, as I think I it would just set my blood pressure rising even more and require me to take another round of meds to calm down, and I have had more than I wanted to already. I'll have to look at it another time, but I am steamed about it more every time I think of it, and that's something I haven't been able to push from my mind.
On top of everything, I find myself examining the meaning of legacy, both in my mother's life and what it means to myself and my sisters. It makes me want to just lock myself away and cry for hours. There is so little positive to pull out of this. All the memories of her life seem to just stack higher and higher into pile selfish failure. The fact that I think this hurts me and the fact that it is true, hurts me all the more. Despite the selfish, wicked, or ridiculous things that she did to me in my life, I always wanted better than that for her. I rooted for her to turn her life around and take advantage of the opportunities she had, but she just never let it happen.
That leads me directly into wondering about my Legacy and what I will be leaving to my kids. I get so scared thinking about this, thinking that I have done a poor job, and that like my mother I may end up with a longer list of failures and unused opportunities. It's unhealthy to think like this, but it's there when I'm alone or trying to go to sleep. It's made me see things in a new light and that's led me to the realization that despite what I previously thought in my life, I'm not afraid of dying. I am afraid of dying incomplete and unfulfilled. That's a biography that would shame me to leave to my kids, and yet right now I just think of all I've not tried and experienced, that I'll end up just like my mother.
And yet, despite being on the outs with her and not really having spoken to her for over a year, I miss her. As crazy as she made me, and as miserable and frustrated as I often was after talking to her, I still wish she was here. I wanted her to be my mother and to turn her life around, but she couldn't and when she died, that was one of the worst things I have ever felt in my life.
Oh yeah, my family has pretty much stopped calling me now. It's only been a few days now since my mother was cremated and they had services for her, but I think that this is how the fallout of my actions is going to be.....................silence. The trouble with it is that the longer it lasts, the easier it to get used to and the harder it is break through. And when I think about the negatives..........
I'll write more later.
I have so many emotions and memories fighting inside of me and influencing my mood and thoughts I am just barely able to function each day. Depression isn't even close to how am I feeling right now. In everything I feel and think, there is such a powerful and emotional intensity that rages within me. I spend the days fighting this and they end with me mentally and physically exhausted.
I'm not ashamed to say that the things my sister told me the night my mother died bothered me. Even though I believe that my mother now knows the truth of how I feel, I'm hurt that there was a chance my final words didn't make it to her, and because of how mentally unstable she was she didn't get to here those words for the last time. My god does that bother me. I could live with it if I had dragged my feet and didn't send my goodbyes in time, but I sent them almost a week before she died and my sister never said anything to me, and I just don't like the reasons I come up with as to why almost 4 days had to pass before I called her on it and she then told me she didn't get it. Those were important days, the last days of her lucidity, and it taken not just from me, but also from her. I don't even know if it's worth going into right now, the reasons for that delay, as I think I it would just set my blood pressure rising even more and require me to take another round of meds to calm down, and I have had more than I wanted to already. I'll have to look at it another time, but I am steamed about it more every time I think of it, and that's something I haven't been able to push from my mind.
On top of everything, I find myself examining the meaning of legacy, both in my mother's life and what it means to myself and my sisters. It makes me want to just lock myself away and cry for hours. There is so little positive to pull out of this. All the memories of her life seem to just stack higher and higher into pile selfish failure. The fact that I think this hurts me and the fact that it is true, hurts me all the more. Despite the selfish, wicked, or ridiculous things that she did to me in my life, I always wanted better than that for her. I rooted for her to turn her life around and take advantage of the opportunities she had, but she just never let it happen.
That leads me directly into wondering about my Legacy and what I will be leaving to my kids. I get so scared thinking about this, thinking that I have done a poor job, and that like my mother I may end up with a longer list of failures and unused opportunities. It's unhealthy to think like this, but it's there when I'm alone or trying to go to sleep. It's made me see things in a new light and that's led me to the realization that despite what I previously thought in my life, I'm not afraid of dying. I am afraid of dying incomplete and unfulfilled. That's a biography that would shame me to leave to my kids, and yet right now I just think of all I've not tried and experienced, that I'll end up just like my mother.
And yet, despite being on the outs with her and not really having spoken to her for over a year, I miss her. As crazy as she made me, and as miserable and frustrated as I often was after talking to her, I still wish she was here. I wanted her to be my mother and to turn her life around, but she couldn't and when she died, that was one of the worst things I have ever felt in my life.
Oh yeah, my family has pretty much stopped calling me now. It's only been a few days now since my mother was cremated and they had services for her, but I think that this is how the fallout of my actions is going to be.....................silence. The trouble with it is that the longer it lasts, the easier it to get used to and the harder it is break through. And when I think about the negatives..........
I'll write more later.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Transitions
Yesterday morning I got a call from my sister Teri. Sometime around 6:35am central time my mother finally passed away.
It hasn't been like I expected it to be, not at all.
Probably the most bizarre event is that I ended up talking to my father for over an hour. At this point, I don't even think I could mention very many specifics that we talked about, but for some reason we both just kept talking. I don't yet know how I feel about this, whether it was good or bad, but I find it definitely odd.
My mother's death, like her life was, is surrounded with drama. Instead of sadness, compassion, and celebration all I'm observing is that pain, judgment, and hurt are being passed out and around in the form of attacks, lies, delusions, and guilt. It's a shameful thing to see and I am saddened that I am related to it and involved in even the most minor degrees. Despite my opinions of my mother or the state of our relationship during the last few years of her life, I think she deserved better than this. These are the types of actions that underscore the reason for every decision I made these last few years.
I said the last time I wrote I expected that once my mother died, the drama would heat up and so would the anger or resentment about my actions. The first sign that this will very likely come true happened when one of my aunts verbally laid into my sister Traci for abandoning my mother during this last month of her life. I wasn't privy to this phone conversation, but I've been led to believe it was downright nasty. Regardless of whether she was right, my aunt should have kept her mouth shut as it was none of her business. Traci is an easy target for this type of attack, but what is the point of doing it? My mother is still dead, the past is still the same, and nothing has been ultimately changed other than to spread pain and hate around at a time when understanding and compassion are what is needed.
I'm sure my turn is coming, and although I hope to maintain a decorum in my behavior that will be an example to my kids on how to handle themselves, my deepest fear is that this will happen at a time in which I am unable to check emotions and filter my comments. I do not believe I would try to hurt some one's feelings, but my blunt manner and sharp wit often betray my best intentions.
Anyways, later in the evening, I finally called Teri back to check in on her to see how she was holding up. I'll never be able to express to her how much I appreciate what she has done over the last few months and that I think she brought a lot of peace, comfort, and contentment to my mother. And unfortunately she did it almost completely alone. It's nothing short of incredible and she absolutely deserves some time to herself.
Two things came out of my conversation with Teri that were upsetting to me. I hate to say it, but Teri told me that she doesn't think my mother understood what I had said to her in my letter by the time Teri had read it to her. Teri knew that I was sending that letter and did nothing to let me know she didn't have it for four full days! I had to inquire and force the issue. Apparently by the time that Teri did get it, my mother was already sliding to oblivion.
I am frustrated and hurt by this, hell I have to be honest and say I'm angry too, because I was told prior to her death that hearing from me was a big deal for her and then after she died Teri tells me that my mother died fully believing that I hated her and thought she was a scumbag. It's just ridiculous to me that as important as this apparently was to my mother, very little priority was given to see this though.
Teri pointed out directly that I should have called my mother and let her know I loved her and that I didn't hate her, that it would have given her peace upon death.
BULLSHIT!! That is absolutely not true. This is the second thing that upsets me and really pisses me off. It is an example of WHY I decided to stop talking to my mother. In all the conflicts and all the problems we had in our relationship I do not ever remember telling her I didn't love her. Even at my worst, when I behaved the poorest and shouted at her and called her names, I never once said or implied that I felt that way. I went out of my way to tell her that I did love her when we fought and when we got along. I would explain at great detail that unless she did something unholy evil to me, I would always love her. When she called me on my last birthday I again told her that I loved her even though I was upset.
She never believed me. Time and time again I would say it to her, but she would often question it. That was annoying and devastating. I stood by her as her son and my love was ignored or denied until she needed it, but then when she was done, it was forgotten and I had to profess to her again. My wife heard me have this conversation with her on a few occasions and said nothing to me other than the important thing is that I actually DO love her.
So, why would I believe that anything I did in the last few weeks would be different? Just because she was on her deathbed? Like it or not, she would not have believed it. She would have wanted me to prove it in some way, probably by coming out to see her, which I could not do in any way. Instead of it being an unconditional question of whether I loved her, I would have needed to prove it by meeting some condition of hers.
And this is the honest part I spoke of that will surely piss off family, but I truly do not regret my actions, especially over the past year. And I absolutely do not care if she died thinking that I didn't love her or that I thought she was scum. I never gave her cause to have those doubts and I know my actions stand-up to that test. And I also don't care because I know that where she is now, she has received the clarity to know the truth.
For those among us that she has left behind, you can choose to believe it or not. Those are your choices and you are responsible for making them and which ever one you choose has absolutely no affect on my belief.
It is now late and my children will need me tomorrow pretty early, so I need to rest for them.
It hasn't been like I expected it to be, not at all.
Probably the most bizarre event is that I ended up talking to my father for over an hour. At this point, I don't even think I could mention very many specifics that we talked about, but for some reason we both just kept talking. I don't yet know how I feel about this, whether it was good or bad, but I find it definitely odd.
My mother's death, like her life was, is surrounded with drama. Instead of sadness, compassion, and celebration all I'm observing is that pain, judgment, and hurt are being passed out and around in the form of attacks, lies, delusions, and guilt. It's a shameful thing to see and I am saddened that I am related to it and involved in even the most minor degrees. Despite my opinions of my mother or the state of our relationship during the last few years of her life, I think she deserved better than this. These are the types of actions that underscore the reason for every decision I made these last few years.
I said the last time I wrote I expected that once my mother died, the drama would heat up and so would the anger or resentment about my actions. The first sign that this will very likely come true happened when one of my aunts verbally laid into my sister Traci for abandoning my mother during this last month of her life. I wasn't privy to this phone conversation, but I've been led to believe it was downright nasty. Regardless of whether she was right, my aunt should have kept her mouth shut as it was none of her business. Traci is an easy target for this type of attack, but what is the point of doing it? My mother is still dead, the past is still the same, and nothing has been ultimately changed other than to spread pain and hate around at a time when understanding and compassion are what is needed.
I'm sure my turn is coming, and although I hope to maintain a decorum in my behavior that will be an example to my kids on how to handle themselves, my deepest fear is that this will happen at a time in which I am unable to check emotions and filter my comments. I do not believe I would try to hurt some one's feelings, but my blunt manner and sharp wit often betray my best intentions.
Anyways, later in the evening, I finally called Teri back to check in on her to see how she was holding up. I'll never be able to express to her how much I appreciate what she has done over the last few months and that I think she brought a lot of peace, comfort, and contentment to my mother. And unfortunately she did it almost completely alone. It's nothing short of incredible and she absolutely deserves some time to herself.
Two things came out of my conversation with Teri that were upsetting to me. I hate to say it, but Teri told me that she doesn't think my mother understood what I had said to her in my letter by the time Teri had read it to her. Teri knew that I was sending that letter and did nothing to let me know she didn't have it for four full days! I had to inquire and force the issue. Apparently by the time that Teri did get it, my mother was already sliding to oblivion.
I am frustrated and hurt by this, hell I have to be honest and say I'm angry too, because I was told prior to her death that hearing from me was a big deal for her and then after she died Teri tells me that my mother died fully believing that I hated her and thought she was a scumbag. It's just ridiculous to me that as important as this apparently was to my mother, very little priority was given to see this though.
Teri pointed out directly that I should have called my mother and let her know I loved her and that I didn't hate her, that it would have given her peace upon death.
BULLSHIT!! That is absolutely not true. This is the second thing that upsets me and really pisses me off. It is an example of WHY I decided to stop talking to my mother. In all the conflicts and all the problems we had in our relationship I do not ever remember telling her I didn't love her. Even at my worst, when I behaved the poorest and shouted at her and called her names, I never once said or implied that I felt that way. I went out of my way to tell her that I did love her when we fought and when we got along. I would explain at great detail that unless she did something unholy evil to me, I would always love her. When she called me on my last birthday I again told her that I loved her even though I was upset.
She never believed me. Time and time again I would say it to her, but she would often question it. That was annoying and devastating. I stood by her as her son and my love was ignored or denied until she needed it, but then when she was done, it was forgotten and I had to profess to her again. My wife heard me have this conversation with her on a few occasions and said nothing to me other than the important thing is that I actually DO love her.
So, why would I believe that anything I did in the last few weeks would be different? Just because she was on her deathbed? Like it or not, she would not have believed it. She would have wanted me to prove it in some way, probably by coming out to see her, which I could not do in any way. Instead of it being an unconditional question of whether I loved her, I would have needed to prove it by meeting some condition of hers.
And this is the honest part I spoke of that will surely piss off family, but I truly do not regret my actions, especially over the past year. And I absolutely do not care if she died thinking that I didn't love her or that I thought she was scum. I never gave her cause to have those doubts and I know my actions stand-up to that test. And I also don't care because I know that where she is now, she has received the clarity to know the truth.
For those among us that she has left behind, you can choose to believe it or not. Those are your choices and you are responsible for making them and which ever one you choose has absolutely no affect on my belief.
It is now late and my children will need me tomorrow pretty early, so I need to rest for them.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Family Sucks
The holidays are always tough considering the shitbag of experience that is my life with my family, but it's even worse during this time. It seems that many of them choose to use this as a time to behave in the worst ways, or to have this time to spotlight their poor choices and faults so that they can cry to the rest of us so that we can help "Save Christmas" for either themselves, everyone, or my personal favorite, the children.
So this leaves me in the dichotomy of hating the holidays, but wanting them be everything they weren't growing up. I admit this is depressing for me, and dealing with the change of seasons and the whole "holiday Depression Syndrome" itself doesn't make for good times for me.
This year I've been working real hard not to get sucked into to all of the usual patterns, tricks, and negativity of my family and the season. My intentions are to make this the first of many wonderful Christmas Holidays for my children. I may never be able to smother them with toys, but I will due everything I can to make them fun, magical, and as exciting as possible.
But this year it seems that my mother is going to die, or at least that's what I get from here camp. Since I'm not there I have no way of knowing exactly what is happening and I am sure my sister Teri is probably feeling over her head in dealing with this, but I've heard this before. Teri even pointed this out to me last week when she called me to say that at the time she wasn't doing well and that they don't know how much longer she has.
In another post I'll explain myself better, but last year I chose to pull away from her and stop communicating with her. As she has marched closer and closer towards death's door, this decision of mine has begun to weigh heavily on her and the rest of my family. What's being said and how it's being said, I don't have the faintest idea. I have to be honest and say that I don't really care. Despite the heat I continue to get, and heat that will surely rise after she is gone, I will not change my position.
For my family members who read this, and as well as anyone else, I did what I did to protect myself and my family. It may have taken me 38 years to reach the conclusion, but talking with my mother brings nothing good. There is usually only hate, and lies, and manipulation, all of which serve to hurt and burn me. I just got to a point in my life where I was no longer going to allow that to happen to me and have that in turn affect my children or wife. Period. It's not the popular choice, but it's the right choice.
So, I'm on the phone with Teri, listening to her tell me how badly my mother is doing, and I'm trying to offer the most support I can considering my position, but it's not really much help I'm sure. And I get the feeling that what Teri wants to say, and won't say, is that I need call my mother. As I said above it isn't going to happen. But I relaxed my boundary just enough and offered to write a letter for Teri to read to her.
That was tough for me to do, but I thought I was as fair and honest as I could possibly be. I never said anything negative about her and even praised her in spots for things she had done in the past. But it took a lot out of me, but I felt a bit better having completed it. I sent it to Teri and I heard absolutely nothing back from her. I don't know what was happening, so I called her at work to verify if she got it and she of course said it never arrived to her. So with Teri still on the phone I resent it a few more times until she verbally told me that she had indeed gotten it.
I told her to read it to her if she needed to, but that I didn't want to hear back from her. Teri got a bit defensive and told me that it was out of her hands and that if my mother wanted to call me there was nothing she could do to stop it. So I expect some kind of call at any time really.
I don't know for sure if my mother has even gotten the letter yet, but I feel that what I said in it has been passed around and now everyone appears to be upset with me. So be it. I've been prepared for this from the get go and all I can do is control how I react, not their behaviors. And I know it's going to get bad because it's already started. My nephew David, Teri's son, who is a teenager and prone to drama sent out a bulletin on MySpace for me telling me I am a horrible person and that he hopes I die.
Yeah, that family of mine sucks. I wish that there was really something horrendous I had done that would justify there actions, but there isn't. But I am going to try and get past this and let is not affect me. Every minute that I allow myself to be angry or sad is a full 60 seconds of happiness that I've lost. They've all taken a lot from me, but I refuse to let them take that too.
So this leaves me in the dichotomy of hating the holidays, but wanting them be everything they weren't growing up. I admit this is depressing for me, and dealing with the change of seasons and the whole "holiday Depression Syndrome" itself doesn't make for good times for me.
This year I've been working real hard not to get sucked into to all of the usual patterns, tricks, and negativity of my family and the season. My intentions are to make this the first of many wonderful Christmas Holidays for my children. I may never be able to smother them with toys, but I will due everything I can to make them fun, magical, and as exciting as possible.
But this year it seems that my mother is going to die, or at least that's what I get from here camp. Since I'm not there I have no way of knowing exactly what is happening and I am sure my sister Teri is probably feeling over her head in dealing with this, but I've heard this before. Teri even pointed this out to me last week when she called me to say that at the time she wasn't doing well and that they don't know how much longer she has.
In another post I'll explain myself better, but last year I chose to pull away from her and stop communicating with her. As she has marched closer and closer towards death's door, this decision of mine has begun to weigh heavily on her and the rest of my family. What's being said and how it's being said, I don't have the faintest idea. I have to be honest and say that I don't really care. Despite the heat I continue to get, and heat that will surely rise after she is gone, I will not change my position.
For my family members who read this, and as well as anyone else, I did what I did to protect myself and my family. It may have taken me 38 years to reach the conclusion, but talking with my mother brings nothing good. There is usually only hate, and lies, and manipulation, all of which serve to hurt and burn me. I just got to a point in my life where I was no longer going to allow that to happen to me and have that in turn affect my children or wife. Period. It's not the popular choice, but it's the right choice.
So, I'm on the phone with Teri, listening to her tell me how badly my mother is doing, and I'm trying to offer the most support I can considering my position, but it's not really much help I'm sure. And I get the feeling that what Teri wants to say, and won't say, is that I need call my mother. As I said above it isn't going to happen. But I relaxed my boundary just enough and offered to write a letter for Teri to read to her.
That was tough for me to do, but I thought I was as fair and honest as I could possibly be. I never said anything negative about her and even praised her in spots for things she had done in the past. But it took a lot out of me, but I felt a bit better having completed it. I sent it to Teri and I heard absolutely nothing back from her. I don't know what was happening, so I called her at work to verify if she got it and she of course said it never arrived to her. So with Teri still on the phone I resent it a few more times until she verbally told me that she had indeed gotten it.
I told her to read it to her if she needed to, but that I didn't want to hear back from her. Teri got a bit defensive and told me that it was out of her hands and that if my mother wanted to call me there was nothing she could do to stop it. So I expect some kind of call at any time really.
I don't know for sure if my mother has even gotten the letter yet, but I feel that what I said in it has been passed around and now everyone appears to be upset with me. So be it. I've been prepared for this from the get go and all I can do is control how I react, not their behaviors. And I know it's going to get bad because it's already started. My nephew David, Teri's son, who is a teenager and prone to drama sent out a bulletin on MySpace for me telling me I am a horrible person and that he hopes I die.
Yeah, that family of mine sucks. I wish that there was really something horrendous I had done that would justify there actions, but there isn't. But I am going to try and get past this and let is not affect me. Every minute that I allow myself to be angry or sad is a full 60 seconds of happiness that I've lost. They've all taken a lot from me, but I refuse to let them take that too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)