My goal

I am not worthy of the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. My goal for the new year is to correct my own trajectory so I am worthy of my blessings. Details to follow... Comments?
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All full up

When my head gets too full, my life presented with too many options I tend to go in to overload and withdrawal from whatever situation is causing me to overload. That's where I am now. I've spent the night trying to get my head on straight, reminding myself that there's too much I don't know right now. A phone call from Pats teacher forced me to acknowledge that changes I've seen in him over the past few weeks. He's more amped for no particular reason, even whatever is going on in his life doesn't warrant the behavior. Terrible days will be met with a jubilant child who is laughing and bouncing off the walls. Problems, when addressed head on and met with screaming and something that resembles rage. Serious lapses in judgment and a notable touch of apathy are thrown into the mix. I tell myself its pre pubescent hormones. That could indeed be part of it. I've been telling myself for weeks this too shall fade. His teacher tells me she's seen changes too. And not changes for the better. I tell myself its not him. He's recently been dumped by his best friend. He's struggling in doing his school work. Not from lack of ability but lack of talent. I convince myself he's not trying cause he's distracted. I don't let the term Mental illness enter my thoughts. SO not ready to go there yet. He shouldn't have these hurdles. He's such a good kid, its not fair. He has so many other hurdles in his life, no Dad, no learning disability, anxiety and now what else? A call to his psychiatrist is in order to have him evaluated. Again. He was doing so well at the beginning of the year. I thought we'd turned a corner, I thought we'd found our way. I believed we had a handle on this thing. What fresh hell awaits us this time? Again, I am left with 'Why?'. I don't know enough to even know how to feel. I ask him how school is, and nothing is ever his fault. Teachers are 'stupid' or 'they didn't give me enough time'. All I see is he's not trying to the best of his ability. He has so much to offer and no one sees it because of his choices. He is his own worst enemy. All I want is an answer. I just want to know what this is. Why is it so hard to get there? Why is this always a guessing game? Maybe can be so many places. Many forms of mental illness don't really surface until puberty. ADD and manic depression are almost identical until those teen hormones hit. I've always known this was a possibility. And yet all I can think is 'this SO doesn't come from MY side of the family'. So this is disjointed and disorganized but I need to start to untangle the knots that will most likely keep me up tonight. Feel free to comment.
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Rage or something like it

I've stumbled across something. I'm trying to identify it. One really bad movie seems to have set something off inside me. I haven't sorted it out yet. I think back to some times in the past and I find myself getting wound up with something I couldn't identify churning inside of me. in time, I saw it for what it was. Rage. When I've been put in tough positions in the past, I ask myself what did I do? I cried. I squirmed. I told them no. And what exactly did that get me? Not a whole hell of a lot. Certainly didn't accomplish my intended goal. I didn't save myself. In this world, at the end of the day the only person you can count on is yourself. In the moment where I needed my own self the most, I let myself down. So I find myself with a healthy dose of undiluted rage. And I can't identify who its directed at. Partially at myself, for being weak and unable to defend myself. Partially at the world for teaching me to be "nice" and not defend myself and fight for myself. But there something more there I'm not seeing. I push against it, but I can't break through to see whatever it is. I find myself wanting to make someone hurt they way I once was. I want someone to feel what I did. This, I know, will not make me feel any better. It will not grant me any kind of peace or resolution in my soul. I want to lash out, with words and with actions. I ask myself why I want that. Its because I want to feel strong. I'm looking for my inner power. Rage, perhaps, comes from an inner frustration at my lack of ability to defend myself, or rather, the belief that I don't have the ability to defend myself. What does it mean that I associate power with being able to inflict pain? Is that association built on experiences from the past? Pain equals power. Within myself, I recognize that that's not healthy, and that's not the right answer. Its not the truth that resonates within myself. I am not that person, and that's where the conflict begins. Perhaps what I'm feeling is the conflict. I want something that isn't the right answer, and isn't the productive choice. If that's so, and its so contrary to my nature, why do I crave it? What does it say about me that a small part to me wants to be to someone else what another person once was to me? I want the power I seem to think I will feel over someone else. That's a lie, of course. Resorting to violence to lash out at a person who wrongs you only lowers yourself as a person. Frankly, I'm a better person than that. Even as I write this, I find myself reminding myself that I was raised to be better than a bully. Maybe I learned that lesson too well. I've said before I'm too nice. My place in the world now underlines this reaction because of my lack of control and power in my life. It fuels this rage-like sensation I'm struggling with. I'm even nervous to call it rage, for fear of what others may think. Why does outside opinion matter so much? Even as I write this I'm undecided as to whether or not I'll actually post it. Its too much. Its too honest. Why don't I make my own opinion a priority first? 'Others' (speaking generally) have not been a reliable source of support up till now. (Again, specific people, you know who you are, not included) People continue to let me down, yet their opinion counts more than my own. I don't get that. Rage is with me, happy to be recognized and called my name, I only need to determine its true source. Maybe there is more from when I was much younger that I'm only starting to tap into to. Maybe its time I see everything. I'm tired of hiding, most of all from myself. There may come a day where I'm really to be transparent, but that day is not here yet. Maybe now, I'm one small step closer. I will post this, chips fall where they may. I'm not going to pretend anymore.
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Boundaries

Interesting to me how one story from when my mother was younger can cause a shift in my perspective that in effect, creates such an adjustment that I see truths about myself that weren't as apparent as before. I have issues with boundaries. I don't know how to set them and I don't know healthy ways to respond when they are crossed. When I was younger boundaries weren't as issue. As a child in my house I wasn't supposed to have any. I was just to do as I'm was told. This behavior goes back generations in my family. The change is now I can see the same pattern in every inter-personal relationship I've ever had. There have been times I've tried to set boundaries, but I think even I knew subconsciously that I didn't really mean it and I wouldn't back it up. Little surprise when the other person opted not to respect them either. In trying to figure out why I seem to struggle with this, I have to ask myself to define a boundary. Is it simply not accepting certain behaviors or does it go further than that? I've always called myself a control freak. Looking at myself from this angle I'm not sure that's right. What do I control? Even now, living where I do, I do what I'm told to keep the peace. Its just easier. Duck and cover any unacceptable choices to maintain what authority has established as the status quo. There are no physical consequences to misdeeds, only endless strife and calls of judgment. So where does this come from? Is the inability to set boundaries innate or is it created? On one hand it could give fuel to suspicions I've had for a while now. That could also be me looking for something that's not there. On the other hand I could just be a very compliant person who prefers to be a peacemaker. If that is true, no matter how peaceful you try to be, there comes a time eventually where you must draw the line. Everyone has t stand their ground eventually. This was most obvious in my last job. No matter how badly the company treated me, I came back for more every day for almost three years. And I left not because I was standing my ground, but because there was no other choice. Even in personal relationships, I dislike a persons behavior but I say nothing, turning in fact to become a staunch defender of that persons rights to do the acts that bother me. What does this say about me? Am I really just as weak as I've always secretly feared I have been? What's the difference between weakness and docile? Even as I type that word, docile, my heart revolts against it. I'm not docile. At least, I don't want to be. I haven't learned any other way. How does a person go about learning something that can't come from a book? Even my kids are better at it than I am. That's the funny thing, I can set and stick to boundaries w them. Its a no-brainer as far as they're concerned. Children need boundaries and I'm the only one to give it to them. Why can I give them something I can't give myself? It could be said from that observation about my kids that I do know how to set boundaries, but choose not to when it comes to myself. Do I see my kids as having a greater inherent value than myself? Of course I do, I think they're pretty terrific. Why can't I see the person that created them and is raising them with equal value? Does it go back to not having my NO respected? Or not being given a voice as a child? Maybe those combined with an innate desire for acceptance. Maybe I think I'll find my place by trying to fit into every place I find, until one is comfortable. So far, that route hasn't worked out so well. I don't respect myself or what I want nearly enough. I need to figure out now what to do about it. Where does strength come from? Can it be learned? I'll let you know when I figure it out. Feel free to comment.
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Victim/survivor mentality

So I've never painted myself as a victim. I've always been proud of the things in my life that I've overcome and survived. I don't focus on the slings and slights that are part of the process of life. I try to rise above and not lower myself to their levels. I choose people to be close to me who only love and support me and what I want in life. I try all this, and what do I get? A constant stream of people who seem to feel the need to cut at me and swing at me whenever the opportunity arises. My mother calls me and makes a point of telling me that a friend I haven't seen in 20 years is at the beach. In the next breath tells me there is no room for me at the beach, and not to bother coming down. To me, that's just mean. This isn't just one time. People I choose to let close seem to take a fair amount of pleasure in taking digs like that. People I let in my choice feel the need to take advantage of my nature and take aim at me. This is a theme in my life that has repeated itself many many times. I sit here and ask myself why is this my fate? What am I doing wrong that people close feel no remorse for hurting me? I rise above, I move past. I ignore deflect and defend. It rarely does any good. It only happens again and again. So often the damage leaves no marks, but small scars only I can see, forming and intricate pattern across my skin describing poor choices in my past. I wish it were just her. Its really not. The list goes on and on. I can't say I allow it, but what do I do to prevent it? I've been told in the past that I should retaliate every time, but I don't know if I have that in my nature. Maybe I need to change. Maybe I need to be a castrating bitch. Maybe if I push first people won't feel the need to see what I'll let them get away with. Maybe this is just part of the human experience. I don't know. All I know is I'm really exhausted from wondering where the attack is coming from and how I will need to defend myself this time. I don't know anymore. Maybe I really am too nice. Funny thing is I always thought it was one on my better character features. Maybe mean really is better.
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Questions questions questions

I find myself stopping and starting this entry, asking myself just how honest do I really want to be? How much of myself am I willing to reveal, and if I’m not willing to show myself, what is the purpose of this exercise at all? If I continue to hide things, am I really doing any kind of a service to myself or to anyone who might actually happen to read this? Do I hide them because I’m not willing to admit it myself yet? It’s so easy to reveal the inner workings of my kids and the things they are experiencing, but when it comes to me, what’s really going on inside, I mitigate the content, choosing not to reveal as much. Why am I so afraid to show myself? Perhaps I fear rejection at some base level. Perhaps there is the fear people will tell me I’m crazy and not to think that way. Maybe I already know I’m wrong and I don’t want to hear the confirmation from others. I don’t know, and yet I still sit here and struggle with this. I can honestly say I don’t know which direction I’m going to go just yet. Maybe I’m afraid to go after what I want. Maybe I don’t want to admit that I want what I do. If that’s the case, why am I afraid to admit what I want? Is it because it will risk me condemnation from those I’m closest to? And yet that doesn’t stop what I feel. Following what I feel when it comes to my personal life has almost never taken me anywhere positive. Maybe this time I need to follow my head instead. Does that mean risking a shallow meaningless interactions because the right answer is only the right answer on paper? If I land in a stable contented place, does it really matter how I got there? I find myself at a cross roads with no distinct signs to tell me which way to go. Both ways have their own pitfalls. It comes down to asking myself who I can trust. The answer of course is neither but for totally different reasons. The only person I can really trust is myself. Maybe the right answer is none of the above. I think that’s what scares me most of all, finding out later on I chose wrong and the right answer was neither. Maybe I should choose myself for once instead of something else.  And I don’t have any clear answers. Maybe I’ve revealed more here than I realized. Maybe it’s all out there now for the world to see and I only think I’m hiding. Doesn’t matter I said what I think I needed to and that’s the whole point.

 

 

the anxiety monster

My heart breaks just a little for my son. He battles demon every day that only he can see and no one else can truly help him with. It whispers to him, sometimes I think telling him only the scariest possible outcomes can be had from any situation. this monster exists only in his mind of course, but its as real to him as the stars at night are to everyone else. His anxiety monster doesn't roar or gnash teeth, its almost silent, telling to be fearful, that he's just not good enough and he's not capable of handling anything. He withdrawals when the monster whispers, hiding behind a mask of reserved silence, finding comfort and escapism in video games and beloved stuffed animals. No child should have to grow up feeling this way. No one should have to face a new day battling against uncertainty and a lack of self worth. I think back to how his face glows when he does something he's proud of. If you could plug him in he'd light a room. But those moments are fleeting. Soon enough, he's being left behind or ignored by those outside the family and the vicious cycle begins again. I find myself asking if I feed into this. I comfort, I reassure and help him think through things. And I truly helping or am I a crutch he will never outgrow? Change, even a seemingly small change is so very hard for him. Something like starting a new school year causes weeks of stress and gives the monster entirely too much fuel to grow with. The whispers have such credence to him. "What if no one likes you?" "What if you have no friends?" "What if the bus driver yells?" These are not hurdles a 5th grader should have to cross, as they had been long ago conquered and defeated. I watch his friends, and see none of this. They carry with them their armor, the unshakable sense that the world is safe and predictable and bad things exist only on the nightly news. Pat has none of that. He knows how suddenly this world can shift. He faces the smaller monster we all do, armed only with a much larger monster that reminds him his own father cast him aside. I cannot understand his fear, but I hurt for it just the same. I cannot fight this monster for him. I hand him small weapons I have found useful in the past in fighting some of my own demons. Some he uses, some are to unwieldy for him to manage. My heart breaks just a little as he sleeps because only in that place is the monster truly silent. Sleep eludes him frequently as the monsters whispers become more urgent, and time presses closer. And there is little I can do. That is the hardest part of all. He needs to find his own way to silence him once and for all. I hand him weapons, psychiatrists and therapists and they do shore up his armor, but at the end of the day, it is only him who can fight this. I can only hope its enough. I can't make him see himself as others do, as a funny spirited intelligent boy with a knack for technology and a passion for swimming. They see awkward. They see shy. They see lazy and disorganized and weird. Most people never see he is none of these things. They see what the anxiety monster wants them too. Perhaps we will be able to silence him some day, once and for all. I dream of that, for him to see himself as I do, smart, resilient and perfect. Its time for you to go now monster, were done with you here.

mea culpa

I am not a strong person. I pretend I am, and I can play the part as well as anyone, but in reality, I am not. In order to figure out where I should be I need to identify where I am and call it by name. I go along to get along. With everyone. I concern myself more with making the other people happy than I do with myself happy. I live to please the rest of the world. Even if it means denying who I am in the process. I recently found myself in a situation where I bent and twisted in order to create the person I thought that person wanted me to be. Maybe if I could be what ihe needed he would stop acting like he was. You know, it really doesn't work that way. I completely lost myself for a few days in the process. I have been given a few days of quiet in my own head, as there is no one in the house but for me and the kids for the next week. Its an interesting place to be in, as the kids have been in bed for some time and I've had nothing but the quiet I have so craved in my own head. I'm not happy, but that statement isn't enough to describe where I find myself. I'm not happy and I haven't been for a really really long time. I can't live like this anymore. As many of you know I have been looking for work for sometime without a great deal of success. Even as I look I can only think..."What's the point?" I have lived to make my mom and kids happy but its gotten me only to this place. My voice, my light is silent. I know, I feel I am meant for something different, but I don't know what it is. I am not strong enough. Those people closest to me will debate this as I have survived some ugliness in my life, but I see that as a further example that I'm right. Those experiences color my reactions to the world even now. I lived guided by what might be, a twinge of fear that infects my every interaction with those around me. I'm not a strong person, in most occasions I will give someone the answer I think they are looking for in order to keep the peace. Living under some peoples thumb for too long has poisoned my ability to fight back. Keep the peace, go along to get along,give them what they want. I don't know if I even know how to speak my mind anymore. I don't like choices I've made or some things I've done. I'm not proud of myself. I don't think I've done many things worthy of it. This does not mean I have poor feelings about everything I've done, just for the record. I know when it comes to my kids I'm on the right track. But the choice to just do what I'm told becomes stronger and stronger with every year that passes. I have to call the darker parts of myself what they are, and the only way to do that is to put it all out there for the world to see. A wound heals best when exposed to the air. This cannot continue or I'll not survive intact. I have bent too far and completely lost myself along the way. This is not enough. I need so so so much more.

changing

So...today i chopped off all my hair, well most of it anyway. (I'll post pictures later) the last week has been memorable, but sadly for all the wrong reasons. Between heavy ugliness in my personal life and having my car broken into and realizing dreams I have are further away than I would like to believe, I have had a tough week. In response to all this stress, I cut off my hair. I have found altering something I can control can help, at least temporarily restore my equilibrium and sense of being able to affect my own life. This week has left me questioning almost everything i thought, and everytrhing I took for granted. Some people were not quite what they seemed. Maya Angelou said once "When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time." I chose to believe this person this time and made some choices in my life because of it. I hear a voice in my head, as I look around at where I am, and it tells me 'this isn't so bad, accept it, this is your fate to remain in this stasis you call home'. I cannot believe that. Even as I hear it said, something in me rebels like a hormonal teenager. No, my heart cries, this can't be it, this can't be all there is. I want, I need so much more. I ask myself if I'm greedy to want more than I have.

I feel good though, because for maybe the first time in my life I stood up to a situation that was unacceptable and didn't go along to get along. I found my backbone and called it by name, not sugar coating or lying about it. I didn't accept good enough as good enough. I know I deserve more. As can be seen in my dating history, I'm not known for being very good and calling people on lousy behavior. In the past i have accepted things I should not have because I wanted and needed that person to accept and validate me. I sought my identity through them, trying to become what would make them happy. I saw myself starting to do that again with this person. anything to make them happy. And hey even if this person made my cry sometimes, that's just how it goes right? This time, I saw it for exactly what it was and didnt pretend I didn't see it. I validated myself. Feels pretty good. There's more to come, in the more mundane aspects of my life, I want more. (I also want another tattoo, that will be very soon for sure) I have avioded getting one because 'some' people wouldnt like it. People might dissapprove, might say something.  Fuck em. I seem to have stumbled across my voice somewhere along the way. Funny thing is, the person who triggered this whole post might just be part of the reason I found it. Yeah, there's some irony there for sure. I am worthy, not because of who i'm with, but because of who I am. I don't totally buy this yet, but the seed has been planted.

unedited

I told a friend of mine that she should write a post that is no hold barred honest, and i saw later that I've never really done that myself. If your feeling sensitive, stop reading now.I'm done. I'm done hiding and done pretending.  All the time I've been writing this, i know who reads it and who doesn't, and due to that i have edited what i say and how i say in in the effort of protecting those who's feelings might be dinged by what i say here. I'm doing no one any favors that way. The whole point of this is the figure out what my fucking problem is and why I'm pissed off and frustrated all the time. I'm so done with all that. i don't care what anyone thinks anymore. If i hurt your feelings, please address it with me directly and i woulds be glad to open a discussion of it with you. I'm done pretending. The only editing I'm going to do to this entry is in my spelling. If i hurt your feelings, and you feel the need to not talk to me anymore, then fuck you. I'm angry, I'm  really fucking angry.i 'm frustrated and becoming a little bitter day by day. This does not mean mean there are not moments where my kids make me laugh ,like crazy and i can just relax and just be silly. Count your blessings, i say, and i do., more and more often every day. I make myself stop and tell myself that i have so much to be grateful for and it does help, for a bit. My ex husband dropped has responsibility's towards his children like a bad suit and yet he gets to live like  normal person even though he dropped his kids like a habit. I am here every day reading stories and handing out band aids and truly loving every moment of it, cause this is the one place in life I know just how lucky i really am. They are my gift. They are what gets me up in the morning and what gives me my smile when i go to bed at night. I am angry because the situation I'm in right now is so fucking unfair that i am forced to love with people that do not appreciate what i do for them day in and day out and have no appreciation for the effort i out forth to keep the house looking nice and presentable and i see no way of moving out right now no matter how big i talk. People, it's all a facade. I talk the talk about how i don't care what anyone else thinks and i don't need to find anyone Else's approval for my choices in life its all a facade., I care more than i should. I have not yet been able ton find that place inside of me that knows I'm ok without external validation and I'm still looking for it. Every day that goes by the things i want get further and further way and i wonder some,times if I'm ever going to get there. what do I want? My own place, somewhere where i can be to find out who Th fuck I am for the first time. somewhere where the choices i make on a daily basis aren't measured by what someone else will think. Even as i write this i tell myself that i shouldn't even say this cause there are some people who don't have a momentary and ill bet those people would trade the aggravation for having them for one more day. i know what i would give to have one more day with my dad. but yet, here i am. Struggling with the injustice of my personal situation. People around me get jobs and good ones that they have worked hard for. I don't know why I'm so pissed off all the time but i am going to give myself that voice and say that its ok that I'm angry and that I'm bitter and that I'm frustrated at my total lack of progress in my personal life. I do feel like I've missed the point in my own life but I'm in therapy now and i hope that will help shed some light on what my real problem really is. Cause really, i don't know. If you have insight, please feel free to let me know and isn't be polite, i would welcome your input. sometimes others can see things that we cannot or will not. I want your opinion even if you think what you have to say is gonna piss me off. The anger is there, and i can say that now. I'm angry, I'm frustrated and I'm pissed off and I'm bitter about where I've ended up. I hate people around me that get to shirk their responsibilities and reap the benefits that life has to offer. i hate that i have to clean up messes that other people make without a thought towards their consequences and the impact of their actions on others. I've told myself all this their karma will get those people in the end, but I'm going to draw short of calling those people what they are, cause at least i get to be the good person in comparison to them . Someone told me today better angry than sad cause angry is easier, but what if under all this angry and frustration i feel is really a lot of sad. What do i have to be sad about?  I have a good life and i should take pride in that, but its all a facade, really. I;m faking it trying to get other people i don't really know to accept me. Fuck them this is what i am . I'm tired of hiding, I'm tired of pretending. Please don't take this a cry for help, cause that's not what this is at all. I'm just done pretending. I'm done trying to be something else.  I feel more in control by calling things as they really are than i have in years. I know there is something more that I'm not seeing that is holding me back,  but I'm working on figuring out what that in in therapy. I'm trying to find my own voice and i realize now i don't even know what i want or what my own voice sounds like. I want my own place and i see other people letting their responsibilities to their children slide, and i want to blame them for where i am. I know there is some truth there for sure, they have to live with the weight of their choices. when their children want nothing to do with them, i hope they understand the true reason why. I am angry and I'm growing bitter and I'm still trying to figure out why. I'll let you know if i come up with something.

addendum

You gotta read the post just before this, or this one won't make much sense. Hell, maybe it won't anyway, at least not to anyone but me. I don't care.

Maybe it wasn't just me. Maybe she was angry too. She was invisible too, once. I can remember the stories told about her childhood, how other family members stood out above her, and she was the good girl. Maybe it was her too. Growing up, safety was her main concern. Ironic, right? Maybe that's cause she knew how dangerous people could be. Maybe. I may not ever answer these questions, but knowing to ask, maybe that's what matters most. I see patterns now I didn't before. I see trends and how elements of her life so closely mimic my own. Could be, there's a reason for that. Maybe, locked deep away, she's angry too. Its an interesting thought I hadn't had before that is worthy of further reflection.

displaced anger

As a side note, I must mention I have opened and closed blogger four or five times in the last two hours without writing a thing. I didn't know if I even wanted to write this post, and yet I felt this pull to come back time and time again to try and put to words what's in my head. I cannot gaurantee if any of this will even make sense to anyone but myself, but here goes.

Why do some people get under our skin and others do not? Why do some people do something, seen by others as minor and inconsequential but to us its a constant thorn in our side? I have found myself asking this question over the last few months but haven't come up with much of an answer. At least I wasn't coming up with some kind of answer until something I read in a magazine triggered an odd train of thoughts that seem to have lodged in my brain and won't let go. I find myself asking why what one person does gets under my skin and what I'm really mad about. Perhaps there is the possibility the urge I feel to lash out comes from something unresolved, something much deeper.

I believe that parents main role in life is to protect their children. I also know that all parents are human and doomed to be imperfect no matter how hard they try simply because they're human. As parents we all make mistakes. That being said. I want to see this from the parents perspective but as someone who is a child as well its too easy to see both sides of the argument. Parents are supposed to keep them safe and when that fails, the second half of that chore is to notice when something goes off track. If parents drop the ball on the second half of this duty, what then? What reaction is the child left with? The people who should have noticed, should have seen, didn't. What does this leave the child with? Potentially a feeling of being unheard, unseen and ultimately, invisible. (If you've been reading any length of my blog, you should recognize a theme here)

So what then, as that child grows they eventually becomes adults and what becomes of the left overs from feeling unheard and invisible when they were younger? Do they continue to feel invisible, do they get loud and make sure no one ever ignores them again? Do they make themselves into something they are not or make sure they are hyper vigilant to maintain that fragile feeling of security they crave? Or do they recreate the situation over and over again in adult relationships without seeing the connection?

What I think is eventually what happens is that child, the adult person the child has become gets angry. Sometimes very angry. This anger may not surface in obvious ways but may sit in the unconscious for a long time, only coming out in small semi-passive agressive ways over the course of time. Little things fester and burn when if it were anyone else, these issues would be quickly discarded. But if its that one person, those small things can take on a larger significance. And yet both parties can be totally unaware of what moves and breathes just under the surface. Neither party sees what's just beyond reach, until one article in one magazine creates a shifts and pieces start to fall into place. Like those magic pictures where you can only see the image if you focus your eyes a certain way, suddenly you can see things for what they are.

What now? I have no idea. But knowledge is the first step.

new anxiety battles to fight

Raising children constantly fascinates me. How can someone you love so intensely and so completely, frustrate you so badly that you just want to hide under a pillow for as long as you can, or run away to a secluded beach somewhere? I have been dealing with Patrick’s anxiety on an almost daily basis for around two years now and you’d think I’d be used to it by now. Although we’d known about the anxiety since he was 6 or so, it hadn’t been much of a daily issue for us up until the fire. Before that, he might require a little extra patience and some more planning and such, but basically he was a very trusting soul. We were treating the ADHD and making slow progress with special education and I was beginning to think we had this thing under control. “If you want to hear god laugh, tell him your plans” The fire came into our lives and no area of selves, our lives or our existences were left untouched. A few weeks later his anxiety escalated to previously unseen levels and I ran to take my child back to the psychiatrist, half convinced he was losing his mind. Lord knows I was certain one of us was. With some patience and time and therapy, we found our way to a happy mostly sane place again where the day to day wasn’t fraught with invisible pitfalls and tantrums over the smallest things, and stubborn behavior fueled by fear. Special Ed was working and I was back to getting glowing reports from both his teachers and day care staff. I think I got lazy. I got soft. I stopped keeping an eye out for the potential issues because I thought we have this licked. The coping mechanisms he was learning seemed to be working and all was right. And then…my mom got sick. It was a curveball I wasn’t expecting. Although its not life threatening she will require surgery and some recovery time. This information sent Patrick into a tailspin I haven’t seen in some time. Temper tantrums out of nowhere, anger lashing out, combined with clingy neediness that seems to have to salve to ease it. The more I give the more he seems to need some days. Then followed the emails from his teachers, crying in class, refusal to participate, hiding under his desk, lashing out at other students. This was different from the first time. The first real appearance of the anxiety was more of a panic response. This is clearly more of an anger response. That’s concerns me some, because these behaviors are not tolerated anywhere, whether you’re a kid or not. There are moments I find myself staring at him, asking myself, “Why does this have to be so hard?” People get sick, and many times they get better. In life there will be bumps. It’s just the way it goes. I watch this behavior, tired from weeks of trying to walk him through it and all I can think is “Kid, if you don’t get this under control, the world is going to eat you up and spit you out.” I want so much more for him that what I see now. I have to stop and remind myself that he’s only 10, but on the other side of that he won’t be 10 forever. The time to learn to handle the upsets of life is when you’re young and have someone to hold your hand and walk through them together. Time seems to be passing so quickly these days. There are moments I want to tell him to just cowboy up and deal with it like the rest if us do, but I also get that’s just not possible right now. Of course it could be said its not possible because the people around him aren’t allowing him to demand enough of himself. At what point to we stop catering to the disability and start making him as accountable as everyone else his age is? I struggle with knowing what’s appropriate and knowing what he’s truly capable of. I want to hold him to a high standard because I know how smart he is, but I have to winder if I’m only setting him up for failure when I do that. I can see his potential and I want him to find every bit of it in life. I’m just still stumbling along the right path, following my gut instinct, hoping I’m doing the right thing. That’s the hard part about parenting; you don’t know whether you’ve done it right until after it’s passed. So we make the appointments with the psychiatrist again and hope for the best, and continue on with therapy hoping this time will resolve itself over time like it did before. I try not to worry about the long term coping skills he hasn’t seemed to develop yet too much and keep putting out fires. I’ll be glad when I can get back to life where I’m not holding my breath when I pick him up from school, hoping he’s had a good day. This action plan seemed to work last time, I can only hope the recipe hasn’t changed too much since then. I remind him of what he’s done well so far and give him to opportunity to catch him being good and making the right choices. I know it’s a reminder to me that patience is the main ingredient he needs right now, and hope this too shall pass.

a few small repairs

I’ve spent a good portion of the last few days thinking and re-evaluating my life, and my place in it. When a new role was called for in my family I stepped into it without question, without being so much as asked. I knew it was expected and just filled in, taking on extra responsibilities of more meal planning and transportation to doctors’ appts and researching medical conditions. I step back now and ask myself why I did this. This is the role I play, the caretaker. Why is this my role? Was it handed to me, or was it self-assigned? And as a person in the role of caretaker, why do I not take care of myself? The stress these new assignments gave me was something I was not ready for. I’ve assumed this role before and been able to keep moving without so much as hitch in my stride. What made this one different? It could be this added job was the final straw, the one I couldn’t handle. I don’t like admitting that there’s something I can’t handle. I’ve had my share of bullshit thrown my way over the years and although I’ve stumbled here and there and been sent to my knees more than once, I’ve always managed to find a way to assume the extra weight, re-adjust and get back up. Many times this was not done without the help of those around me. If I could do it before, what makes this time so much different? My mental set is changing this time. I’m finding myself taking a step back from the whole mess and taking in the view with a fresh set of eyes. I have become the person who picks up the slack for the person around me. There was a time I would have had little respect for someone like me, who just does and does and does because that’s what is expected of her. I have very little respect for myself now, it would seem. If I treated someone else the way I have treated myself I would fully expect them to call me on it. Well this time I’m calling myself on it. I have allowed this to happen.


That thought is where the change I’m making begins. I called myself on my behavior towards myself. This is unacceptable. I will not allow me to treat myself this way. I know my worth and I know my value and by allowing myself to continue to struggle under the weight I was currently carrying is not going to continue. With this thought I look again around the world I live in and ask myself what does the world I want to live in look like? It looks like a place where my needs are asked about and respected. It’s a world where I don’t feel the need to be nice all the time and just do what needs to be done. Ok, so we’ve started to get an image of what I want around me, now I compare what I have with what ui think I should have. Little things become glaringly obvious. My boundaries, my places my space is not respected, most of all not respected by me. I begin my respecting my own space and my own boundaries. I draw my line in the sand.

This is not to say I won’t continue to care for and look out for my mother and her medical needs and I won’t care for my children and continue to raise them as I see fit. There’s the key, as I see fit. I’m not going to live to please others, I will try not to silently seek approval for the things I do and say. I’m going to speak my mind. Its as simple as this, if someone else treated me as badly as I treat myself, I would have a problem with that person. So it only makes sense that when I do it to myself, I need to self correct the behavior. This means speaking my mind and giving push back where its deemed needed and not taking so much in stride. People are always going to push, the difference is now I plan on pushing back until I’m heard.

Part of the problem I’ve had with this whole issue has been the fear that taking care of mom has just become a life sentence. I saw myself being mandated to step into the shoes she had to fill when her parents fell ill. Both times she took on the new load and found a way to carry on no matter what it cost her. Even some of the behaviors she adopted were becoming my own, although unconsciously. I am choosing to set down the parts of the load I cannot handle and giving myself a rest. This translates into small things like making myself go to bed at a decent hour and going to the gym to burn off some stress. It also translates into larger things like saying no, and delegating some duties as needed in order to ease the load. It could also mean making more space in my life but easing out the part some people have overtaken in my life in order to have some more elbow room for myself. I allow myself to listen to the voice within me that tells me what I want. I already know what I need, I think we all do. I just need to allow myself to have it. It isn’t easy to stand my ground, but already I’m doing it. And I LOVE the way it feels.

whats too much

How much is too much? I have always believed that God does not hand you anything you are not equipped to handle. I have found myself in a place right about now where I am forced to question that. In the last few weeks I've been handed job stress, money stress, relationship stress, and family stress. Mom is sick and will most likely need surgery. My family demands have grown threefold overnight. I have bills to pay and not enough $$ to cover them. My job makes me document every move I make them gives me grief about taking one day off to take my mom to the radiologist. They ask if I have to have the entire day. My family puts demands on me to cook, clean and keep everything running. And the final straw, Pats been having behavior problems at school. He is a very angry kid and I have no idea why. I question him and run into brick walls. All I know is he's not happy I just can't tell you why. I have moments when I have to wonder why all this is handed to me now. I am only one person and anymore I'm stretched so thin I don't know how I can get anything else done. I would ask for help but there's nothing anyone else can do to help. I have nothing left some days and yet the demands don't ever stop. Moms issue requires a special diet so now I'm cooking two dinners instead of one. I don't know what I even need some moments. My friends listen and that is my salvation. Mom is stressed and she leans on me, getting progressively more clingy as the days pass. And I'm here, because I have to me. There's simply no other choice. I need to be there for her because that's what you do. People think I will continue to do whatever needs to get done, but I have to ask myself where I am in my own life. I've vanished from it completely. At least before I was there a little. Now, I don't even exist. And there's simply no space to fix that. When I'm done with what is needed, I'm too tired for anything else. I find myself craving an escape into books and sleep more and more often. They are the only things that are mine and I prtect them fiercely. They are my refuge in the storm. And for now, I hang onto that.

a little disjointed, bear with me.

I've started and finished this blog entry about four times, I end up deleting it and walking away. Been kind of a weird day and I have to get it out. Many many years ago I loved a man named John. He was my first love and he was my whole world for 4 years. We broke up over rumors of his drug habit and the volatile nature of our relationship. And I must mention, some pressure from my family, who hated him. At the time there was very much a tug of war going on. My parents won. I sit here and try to remember what we were like together, really just a couple of children trying out of sea legs for the first time, feeling like we were very grown up.He appeared in my life like an guardian when I was broken and sad, and he was the first person ever in my life that accepted me exactly as I was, even if I was hopelessly imperfect. In all my life up until that point I'd not had that. He's since passed and I hadn't seen him in close to ten years. I look over the time we had together and wonder what he remembered and what i meant to him in the long run. I ask myself what would have happened to us if we'd both been stronger people and more capable of being mature with each other. I was a whiner and he was self absorbed, and yet even now I ask myself what if. What if I'd tried harder? Then I choose to remember to way we'd fight with each other how vicious we could be and how we'd dig our nails in and not let go for anything.The only goal when we'd fight was to best the other person. His biggest problem with me was my inability to stand up to my parents. My biggest issue with him was his inability to actually use the enormous amount of talent he had. It seems, from information I've gained over the years, that he did indeed find his place in the world and found a circle where he fit and belonged. He was never able to find that place with me. That hurts some. And yet when I compare our lives, I haven't found that place yet, that place where if I were to end my days, people woulds know i had my voice and I found a place in life where I was hopeful and able to be who I am supposed to be. I haven't found that place yet, and I worry sometimes I never will. He found his place sooner because his timeline was much shorter than mine and the powers that be knew that. He had much less time to accomplish what he needed to do. I found a memory page of his on facebook and the pictures triggered a rush of emotions I wasn't ready for. He was so beautiful and damaged and dark. And for a while he was all mine. I believe in every relationship you take something from it, the purpose of being in that relationship. He was my first taste of passion and my first grown up relationship. At times it was dark and twisted at times it was light. More than once he let me down and broke my heart, as I know I broke his. Even now, I finally see the ripple effect his influence has on the current relationships I'm in. That's a little disturbing to me, as I didn't see until now how much power someones first love can have in the scope of their lives. I ask myself did he ever think of me? Did he ever wonder if I was happy? And if the roles were reversed would he find pictures of me online engaging, if even for a short while? He saw me as wild and free and for a while I was untamed around him. He gave me permission to break the binds id grown up in, but in time i allowed too much and things got too out of hand. I never learned how to set boundaries with him, and it would be a long time before i did finally figure it out.

I loved him, I hated him and even many years later, I still miss him.

Ok, I dont know if any of this made any sense, as I broke out of my format and followed train of thought in my writing. Please feel free to let me know if any of this makes any sense to anyone but me.

counting my blessings

When I get into a funk, it can be too easy to only see the negative in my life and forget the copious blessings I have all around me. When I get like this I have found the best defense is to take a minute and remind myself that although things may seem bleak sometimes, really I have a great deal of blessings all around me that I need to take the time to be grateful for and acknowledge. Here’s a few just to start:


When I went to bed last night I had enough blankets to be warm, and slept in a clean comfortable bed
When I fixed dinner last night there was enough for everyone to eat, and there will be again tonight
When I paid bills this weekend there was some money in my account to pay them, at least most of them
I am able to provide the medical and physiological care my kids need
My children are healthy and active and able to pursue the activities they enjoy
My mother is in good health and able to continue working if she chooses, but able to retire is she chooses to as well
My car started when I went to work this morning and I can put some gas in the tank
I can afford to provide my children the love and support they need to grow strong and healthy
I am healthy
I have a job and health insurance
God loves me
I have good friends who listen when I need it and care for me unconditionally and accept me exactly as I am not what they wish I was
No one in my family is addicted to anything, except maybe caffeine
I love others and I am capable of receiving love
My family loves me, even when we drive each other crazy
I have a cat who loves me like crazy, even she is mentally unstable

I recommend you do the same. I am grateful for the things in my life, even if t may not seem like it at the time. If I focus on the good things in my life, the bad things will pass in time. The goods things have a greater longevity. I know there could be more if I had time to stop and think about it, but this is a good start. We are so blessed, and I need to not lose sight of that, no matter what.

dreams

What do you want? I mean what do you really want? This has been an overwhelming theme in my life, and in this blog. This shouldn't be a hard question to answer, and yet the answer is something I still struggle with, and the answer still eludes me. I don't know why it comes so close, only to slip out of my grasp again. I have an idea now. I want to matter, its as simple as that. I don't mean just in this house or to my kids, I mean on a much grander scale. I want to walk in a room and have heads turn. I want people to seek out my opinion because they know I'll have the answer. I don't think I like what wanting this says about me. It makes me seem self centered and vain and I'm not comfortable with that. Maybe part of the reason I struggle with the definition of what I want is because I fear I won't like the answer. Once again tonight, through my poor decision making skills, I have managed to let myself down. I don't like how this makes me feel when I look in the mirror. I don't know how to fix who I am inside to make myself someone I'm happy to have looking back at me. I don't always like who I am inside. I make bad choices sometimes because I'm trying to fill a void. What kind of person would make me proud to have looking back at me in the morning when I get up? I want to be someone who matters. So to begin that, do I matter to myself? It has to start with me, right? I believe what you put out into the universe you get back. I'm so busy being wrapped up in my own minutia that I haven't pit much out there. This goes beyond looking for external validation, I think. I need to matter to me. What kind of person would I be if I mattered to me? What characteristics would I have if I mattered to me? That's what I need to define. I'm still getting to that place. I'm still clarifying who I think I need to be in order to matter to me. That's a clear step I need to master for the next step in this journey.

unexpected blessings in a snowy winter storm

My faith in humanity has been restored. Its funny to me the reminders you can get in life that people are looking out for each other when you least expect it. As I’m sure many of you know we got slammed this past weekend with 8+ inches of snow. I decided yesterday I’d had about all the family togetherness I could handle and took the kids out to Chuck E Cheese to burn off some energy, and so I could sit and read my book for a while. The roads were plowed but slippery, though we got there without any problems. On the way home, however, cutting through an intersection, we slid on a slushy part of the road and proceeded to sink my car into a snow bank with the passenger front tire sitting about 2 feet off the ground. All my usuall tricks, rocking back and forth, anchoring something under the tires, shifting into low gear were not working. I just couldn’t get any traction on that tire to yank myself out. It’s front wheel drive car, so that wheel suspended in the snow was going to be a problem. We had winds of 40 MPH yesterday, but I got out with my ice scraper and tried to get some space under the tire with it, all the while be battered by the blowing wind and snow. Nope, we were well and thoroughly stuck. The kids were starting to get upset and I was thinking we might be screwed. About the time I was about to figure out who to call to get us out of this mess, along came two complete strangers, from two different cars to help me out. In this intense wind and cold with snow in their faces, they got out of their warm cars, just because I was stuck. Sure enough with one of them pushing the front of the car from each side, we were able to wiggle free and be on our way. I thought about it for a moment afterwards after I waved and said many thanks to them, that people are basically good people. People who didn’t know me at all, saw I was in a jam and offered to help, for no other reason than I needed it. As much as we bitch anymore about how people are becoming more and more self centered and self involved, it warmed my heart to see it wasn’t entirely true, at least not yet. People are willing to help, when they see a need. Now, I just need to find a way to pay it forward. Karma works, and I feel there is now a debt to be paid to the universe. To whoever you guys were, thanks for looking out for someone else, and God, thanks for sending me a couple of your helpers when I needed it most.

control vs influence

What do I influence, and what do I control? As a parent I ask myself this sometimes daily, wondering which I’m looking to accomplish when it comes to my house, my family and my children. Influence, a subtle art, is done more by modeling the behaviors I’d like to see them repeat as adults as they grow. Control comes in the form of bedtimes, teeth brushing and chores. What is control? What does it really mean to control someone? To control, you mean to push someone else wants and needs aside in favor of your own. Some cases, especially when it comes to kids, its needed. They do not want to go to bed at a decent hour or eat their veggies or do their homework. I control them so that these things get done. Knowing that I control and influence their lives has caused me to adjust some parts of my life to fit who I hope they will be someday. I think most parents do this. Beyond children how much influence and control do we really have over the people we choose to let into our lives? We all like to think that we can control our circumstances and to a degree we can by deciding who we do and do not allow into our lives, out inner circle if you will. We control that access, but adding and removing people as we see fit. In this way we control our own environments to suit the needs we have to fill within ourselves. It could be argued that in this manner we control these around us as well by determining whether or not they are allowed I within our boundaries, but their actions, their choices remain firmly in their control. I believe we all like to think we can control those closest to us in the form of pushing them to make the choices we feel will bring them the most joy in their lives, but in reality, that’s not the case at all. I think many of wish we could put a finger into the lives of the people we love the most, when we see the mistakes they are about to make and wish we could stop them from making. If we could do that, if we really had the ability to control others like that, would we keep those that we love from learning the lessons along they way they are meant to learn? I know I have learned more from my epic failures than I ever have the things I did correctly the first time. If we could control the lives of those around us, would we be doing them a disservice by indulging ourselves like that? I look at those closest to me, and their lives and choices. I hope to influence their lives if they choose to allow me to be part of the process, if they even need someone to influence their choices. I love these people and have chosen them to be within my barriers because they are strong people who know their own minds and are captains of their own ship, to speak. These people, as dear to me as family, are not pushovers and I admire that about each and every one of them. If they were doormats, I would lose some respect for them, I think. The people who can stand up for what they believe in, and do what it takes to find their own voice and their own happiness are the people I want closest to me when the chips are down. We all try to make the best choices in our lives and we all have missteps along the way. But we also correct those and learn from them. Isn’t that what were all here to do, to learn and to love each other? Well I know I still have a bunch of lessons to learn, but I hope I’ve got the love part down so far. I hope some of my better choices might influence people around me, but I hope I’m never able to control any of them. I respect all of them too much for that to happen.  And I hope if I ever try, they love me enough to not allow it to happen.