Okay, so I thought I better get this posted prior to the next Sunday Stealing being due. So here's last week's edition which is a continuation of the prior Sunday's version.
34. What do you like about the summer? Sunshine, warmth, vacation
35. What do you like about spring? Flowers, my birthday, Easter
36. How many states provinces have you lived in? Four
37. What cities/towns have you lived in? Well now, if I shared that much detail I would essentially be outing myself. Let’s just say that in State #1 I’ve lived in five different cities/towns, in State #2 I’ve lived in three different cities/towns, in State #3 just one city, and State #4 four cities/towns. I have been something of a nomad.
38. Do you prefer shoes, socks, or bare feet? Bare feet in warm weather, socks in cold weather, shoes are only for when it is absolutely necessary to conform with society or to keep one’s feet dry.
39. Are you a social person? Not really.
40. What was the last thing you ate? Pop Tarts
41. What is your favorite restaurant? Radio Maria for a nice dinner out, Papa Del’s for everyday
42. What is your favorite ice cream? Peanut Butter Chocolate
43. What is your favorite dessert? Hot fudge brownie sundae
44. What is your favorite kind of soup? Lentil
45. What kind of jelly do you like on your PB & J sandwich? Strawberry Jam
46. Do you like Chinese food? Not the greasy Americanized version, but real Chinese food yes.
47. Do you like coffee? Are you kidding me? I live for coffee.
48. How many glasses of water, a day, do you drink on average? Not as many as I ought to drink, probably one or two.
49. What do you drink in the morning? Coffee, of course! How else would I wake myself up?
50. What non-banking related card in your wallet is the most valuable to you? Bus pass
51. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed? Not really, I pretty much sleep all over it.
52. Do you know how to play poker? Yes.
53. Do you like to cuddle? YES!!
54. Have you ever been to Canada? Nope.
55. Do you have an addictive personality? Yes.
56. Do you eat out or at home more often? At home.
57. What do you miss about high school, if anything? Marching band.
58. Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Not personally.
59. Do you want kids? Um, yes, that’s why I have one.
60. Do you speak any other languages? Español, un poquito solamente.
61. Have you ever gotten stitches? Yes, but only after surgery never from an injury.
62. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? Three times so far, and that’s plenty really.
63. Do you prefer an ocean or a pool? Pool for swimming, ocean for walking in the surf.
64. Do you prefer a window seat or an aisle seat? Aisle.
65. Do you know how to drive stick? Not really. I can, but not well.
66. What is your favorite thing to spend money on? I don’t really like to spend money. I like to save money. I suppose my favorite thing to spend money on would be travel. I do love to travel, although I like to do it as economically as possible.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Echoing in My Empty Brain
"We aren't like other families. We're so much better than they are because we don't drink, or cuss, or smoke cigarettes, and we go to church most Sundays."
"You'll never get a man to love you if you're too fat."
"You'll never get a man to marry you if you won't change your last name when you do."
"You're too idealistic. You can't change anything so don't waste your time trying."
"The only way you'll ever succeed in life is to learn to keep your mouth shut."
"Mind your own business." (said when I witnessed a man abusing a woman, both of whom I didn't know, in the alley by our house)
"You have to learn to mind your own business and not make waves." (said after I called police to report the abuse)
"You have to be less selfish. No man will ever want you if you want to have things your way."
Thanks Mom. Thanks Dad. Great advice. Some absorbed more deeply than others, but they all left their mark.
"You'll never get a man to love you if you're too fat."
"You'll never get a man to marry you if you won't change your last name when you do."
"You're too idealistic. You can't change anything so don't waste your time trying."
"The only way you'll ever succeed in life is to learn to keep your mouth shut."
"Mind your own business." (said when I witnessed a man abusing a woman, both of whom I didn't know, in the alley by our house)
"You have to learn to mind your own business and not make waves." (said after I called police to report the abuse)
"You have to be less selfish. No man will ever want you if you want to have things your way."
Thanks Mom. Thanks Dad. Great advice. Some absorbed more deeply than others, but they all left their mark.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday Therapy: And How Do You Feel About That?
Well, well, well. . .
Good session with Freud this week. We started delving into places whereangels I fear to tread. We started talking about things that have been forefront in my mind throughout my viral snot-infested Mucinex-resistant sinus and bronchial infection.
Being sick gives one lots of time to think between lying in bed limp as a ragdoll and coughing in spasms that wrack the body and cause embarrassing lack of bladder control. Thinking is good. . . sometimes. Thinking is bad. . . sometimes. And sometimes thinking leads you down paths that you just flat out don’t want to go.
But before we head off in that direction (notice subtle technique for delaying tackling the subject matter at hand) I do want to relate some mighty interesting dreams of late. For a period of about two to three weeks and then ending about a week and a half ago I had a recurring dream. My psyche was dealing with the last vestiges of my recent past. The dream always went the same way. I was happily working on something at home when lo and behold BJ shows up unexpectedly. He goes on and on about how he’d made such a mistake to let me go and how he missed me badly and wanted me back. I would turn, look up, and practically laugh in his face as I tell him sorry, too little, too late. I’ve already moved on. The first time I dreamed it I was almost giddy the next day because it seemed such a victory. By the last time I dreamed it I was so finished with both him and the dream I just wanted it over. And it is.
Okay, back to the subject at hand. What I’ve been thinking about a lot and discussed at length with Freud, and will continue to discuss with him at my next session, is the thing that is behind my inability to be without a man, some man, any man, multiple men, in my life at any given time. To be without a man, to me, is the most fearsome thing ever. While it is easy enough to think, and to say, “so go be single for a while, prove to yourself you can do it on your own” it ain’t so easy to do. At least it isn’t for me. I can’t even approach thinking about that without knowing that there is a man, or a few men, or a bunch of men, who are there for me. And once I have a hold on one, or a few, or a bunch, I don’t let go. I don’t let go unless I am absolutely forced to do so.
Part of it, not all of it but a good part of it, is that I want someone to take care of me, to be there for me when I need it the most. I feel like I have no safety net. I feel like I have to just keep plugging along, without rest, without assistance, without anyone to fall back on if and when I need a break. Do other people feel like they have a support system? Is it wrong of me to want one? Am I unrealistic in thinking that I should be able to have the peace of mind that there is a safety net somewhere that will catch me if I fall off the rope on which my life teeters? Am I just naturally weaker than other people? Do other people do just fine and dandy on their own without a net? These are the questions I ask myself, that roll around my empty head while I try to recuperate from the plague of 2010. These are the questions Freud is helping me to start to address. Also, we are digging into why I feel the way I do and what I might do to work myself into a better place.
Good session with Freud this week. We started delving into places where
Being sick gives one lots of time to think between lying in bed limp as a ragdoll and coughing in spasms that wrack the body and cause embarrassing lack of bladder control. Thinking is good. . . sometimes. Thinking is bad. . . sometimes. And sometimes thinking leads you down paths that you just flat out don’t want to go.
But before we head off in that direction (notice subtle technique for delaying tackling the subject matter at hand) I do want to relate some mighty interesting dreams of late. For a period of about two to three weeks and then ending about a week and a half ago I had a recurring dream. My psyche was dealing with the last vestiges of my recent past. The dream always went the same way. I was happily working on something at home when lo and behold BJ shows up unexpectedly. He goes on and on about how he’d made such a mistake to let me go and how he missed me badly and wanted me back. I would turn, look up, and practically laugh in his face as I tell him sorry, too little, too late. I’ve already moved on. The first time I dreamed it I was almost giddy the next day because it seemed such a victory. By the last time I dreamed it I was so finished with both him and the dream I just wanted it over. And it is.
Okay, back to the subject at hand. What I’ve been thinking about a lot and discussed at length with Freud, and will continue to discuss with him at my next session, is the thing that is behind my inability to be without a man, some man, any man, multiple men, in my life at any given time. To be without a man, to me, is the most fearsome thing ever. While it is easy enough to think, and to say, “so go be single for a while, prove to yourself you can do it on your own” it ain’t so easy to do. At least it isn’t for me. I can’t even approach thinking about that without knowing that there is a man, or a few men, or a bunch of men, who are there for me. And once I have a hold on one, or a few, or a bunch, I don’t let go. I don’t let go unless I am absolutely forced to do so.
Part of it, not all of it but a good part of it, is that I want someone to take care of me, to be there for me when I need it the most. I feel like I have no safety net. I feel like I have to just keep plugging along, without rest, without assistance, without anyone to fall back on if and when I need a break. Do other people feel like they have a support system? Is it wrong of me to want one? Am I unrealistic in thinking that I should be able to have the peace of mind that there is a safety net somewhere that will catch me if I fall off the rope on which my life teeters? Am I just naturally weaker than other people? Do other people do just fine and dandy on their own without a net? These are the questions I ask myself, that roll around my empty head while I try to recuperate from the plague of 2010. These are the questions Freud is helping me to start to address. Also, we are digging into why I feel the way I do and what I might do to work myself into a better place.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Why Yes I am Still Alive
Still fighting the virus from hell. I have so many stories to tell. . . and no energy to write them here. Suffice to say I make it to work each day which saps every ounce of energy in my being leaving me useless for anything else.
Pass the tissues, would you please? Thanks.
Pass the tissues, would you please? Thanks.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Thursday Therapy: Most Nothing of All
I'm sick with the virus from hell. I don't feel well enough to think of a post this week for Thursday Therapy.
Sorry. . .
I'll be back once I kick this virus in the ass.
Sorry. . .
I'll be back once I kick this virus in the ass.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Sunday Stealing: The Clown's Meme 1
1. How old will you be in five years? If I live that long, I’ll be 53.
2. Who did you spend at least two hours with today? Just my coworkers, but even then I haven't really spent much time with them. They are in their cubes, and I'm in mine.
3. How tall are you? 5’ 7”
4. What do you look forward to most in the next six weeks? Spending an afternoon with J. (Yes, I see your eyes rolling. I’ll admit I’m rolling mine a bit myself.)
5. What’s the last movie you saw? I watched Seven Pounds yesterday afternoon. I had never seen it before. I’m glad I watched it in the privacy of my own family room with a box of tissues at my side because I bawled at the end.
6. Who was the last person you called? N
7. Who was the last person to call you? N
8. What was the last text message you received? Don’t remember; it’s been a while.
9. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail? Receptionist at my doctor’s office
10. Do you prefer to call or text? Text
11. What were you doing at 12am last night? Sleeping soundly, probably snoring.
12. Are your parents married/separated/divorced? Married
13. When is the last time you saw your mom? Several months ago
14. What color are your eyes? It depends on who you ask, what the lighting is, and what I’m wearing. On my driver’s license I claim hazel.
15. What time did you wake up today? 6:00 a.m., 6:09 a.m., 6:18 a.m., 6:27 a.m., 6:36 a.m., and finally for real at 6:45 a.m. (Yes, hitting the snooze button gives me nine minutes reprieve.)
16. What are you wearing right now? Navy slacks, red blouse, tan sweater, red socks, black shoes (yes, I know you’re supposed to wear brown shoes with navy slacks; so sue me)
17. What is your favorite christmas song? All of them
18. Where is your favorite place to be? Okay, this will sound weird to a lot of people I’m sure, but I love the Illini Union. It’s like the living room of the U of I campus, and so much more. I love to sit in one of the comfy chairs in the south lounge, with a good book to read and a mocha to drink, and just relax, read, people watch, and enjoy the atmosphere. I love the energy of the university environment. I love going downstairs and bowling or playing pool. I hate that they replaced the cafeteria style dining with a fast food court. I used to love that cafeteria with homestyle cooking. Now it’s just another junk food haven. Oh well, no place is perfect.
19. Where is your least favorite place to be? Medical facilities, too many sick people there, too many sad stories, too much pain and suffering.
20. Where would you go if you could go anywhere? Scotland
21. Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years? Right here in LNJ
22. Do you tan or burn? Burn, only burn, never tan.
23. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? Burglars. I can’t tell you the number of times I awoke in the middle of the night convinced I could hear burglars in the house.
24. What was the last thing that really made you laugh? Can’t remember.
25. How many TVs do you have in your house? Three
26. How big is your bed? Queen size
27. Do you have a laptop or desktop computer? Currently, I have neither of my own.
29. What color are your sheets? Light blue
30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Four to six, I like to nest.
31. What is your favorite season? Spring
32. What do you like about Autumn? N’s birthday
33. What do you like about winter? Basketball
2. Who did you spend at least two hours with today? Just my coworkers, but even then I haven't really spent much time with them. They are in their cubes, and I'm in mine.
3. How tall are you? 5’ 7”
4. What do you look forward to most in the next six weeks? Spending an afternoon with J. (Yes, I see your eyes rolling. I’ll admit I’m rolling mine a bit myself.)
5. What’s the last movie you saw? I watched Seven Pounds yesterday afternoon. I had never seen it before. I’m glad I watched it in the privacy of my own family room with a box of tissues at my side because I bawled at the end.
6. Who was the last person you called? N
7. Who was the last person to call you? N
8. What was the last text message you received? Don’t remember; it’s been a while.
9. Who was the last person to leave you a voicemail? Receptionist at my doctor’s office
10. Do you prefer to call or text? Text
11. What were you doing at 12am last night? Sleeping soundly, probably snoring.
12. Are your parents married/separated/divorced? Married
13. When is the last time you saw your mom? Several months ago
14. What color are your eyes? It depends on who you ask, what the lighting is, and what I’m wearing. On my driver’s license I claim hazel.
15. What time did you wake up today? 6:00 a.m., 6:09 a.m., 6:18 a.m., 6:27 a.m., 6:36 a.m., and finally for real at 6:45 a.m. (Yes, hitting the snooze button gives me nine minutes reprieve.)
16. What are you wearing right now? Navy slacks, red blouse, tan sweater, red socks, black shoes (yes, I know you’re supposed to wear brown shoes with navy slacks; so sue me)
17. What is your favorite christmas song? All of them
18. Where is your favorite place to be? Okay, this will sound weird to a lot of people I’m sure, but I love the Illini Union. It’s like the living room of the U of I campus, and so much more. I love to sit in one of the comfy chairs in the south lounge, with a good book to read and a mocha to drink, and just relax, read, people watch, and enjoy the atmosphere. I love the energy of the university environment. I love going downstairs and bowling or playing pool. I hate that they replaced the cafeteria style dining with a fast food court. I used to love that cafeteria with homestyle cooking. Now it’s just another junk food haven. Oh well, no place is perfect.
19. Where is your least favorite place to be? Medical facilities, too many sick people there, too many sad stories, too much pain and suffering.
20. Where would you go if you could go anywhere? Scotland
21. Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years? Right here in LNJ
22. Do you tan or burn? Burn, only burn, never tan.
23. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child? Burglars. I can’t tell you the number of times I awoke in the middle of the night convinced I could hear burglars in the house.
24. What was the last thing that really made you laugh? Can’t remember.
25. How many TVs do you have in your house? Three
26. How big is your bed? Queen size
27. Do you have a laptop or desktop computer? Currently, I have neither of my own.
29. What color are your sheets? Light blue
30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Four to six, I like to nest.
31. What is your favorite season? Spring
32. What do you like about Autumn? N’s birthday
33. What do you like about winter? Basketball
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Yep, It's Stupid Alright
I’m not naming names in this post. I would suggest you not try to guess which of the men I’ve been with in my lifetime to whom this applies. It applies, perhaps, to more than one man I’ve had in my life, kind of a composite picture, and while some parts may apply more to one than another, it would be unfair to judge any one of the men with whom I’ve slept based on this post.
There was an anger in his lovemaking that I never quite understood. I felt there was a loving feeling missing. As a matter of fact, I don’t think it was ever lovemaking. It was just raw sex, fucking. I’m not even sure he knew how to make love to a woman.
I so badly wanted him to make love to me, to show tenderness and caring while we shared our bodies with one another. I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted. I didn’t know how to explain that yes, I like it rough, but I also like to feel cherished and that yes, there is a way to have both, either alternately or simultaneously.
What a huge difference it is between:
And
Now, both of those statements can be used during the exact same activity yet the first one will leave me feeling good about myself and my partner and the other will leave me disappointed in my partner and not feeling all that great about myself either. Perhaps I never said anything about it because I so much wanted to please him that I thought that if I let him have it his way that he would appreciate it enough to ask me how I would like it sometimes.
Sometimes I would just fantasize in my head the things I wanted to hear said. That worked pretty well until he would bring me back to reality by saying something demeaning. Truth be told I didn’t mind most of the things he said. It was just one word that really stung the most, the one that was like ice water thrown over me – STUPID. That was the one word that he used that I found downright insulting. That was one word I would have banned from our bedroom if I could have. STUPID. How does that have any impact on the sexual aspect of the situation? How is that supposed to make me feel more like fucking? How is that anything except an insult? I can take slut, whore, tramp, and similar words as compliments in the context of a good fucking, but stupid? Nope, I can’t find anything there to turn me on. Nothing at all. I wonder what he ever got out of it.
There was an anger in his lovemaking that I never quite understood. I felt there was a loving feeling missing. As a matter of fact, I don’t think it was ever lovemaking. It was just raw sex, fucking. I’m not even sure he knew how to make love to a woman.
I so badly wanted him to make love to me, to show tenderness and caring while we shared our bodies with one another. I didn’t know how to ask for what I wanted. I didn’t know how to explain that yes, I like it rough, but I also like to feel cherished and that yes, there is a way to have both, either alternately or simultaneously.
What a huge difference it is between:
“Oh what a good little slut. C’mon you tramp show me how good you can do it.”
And
“Stupid slut! Whore! You like that cock, don’t you?”
Now, both of those statements can be used during the exact same activity yet the first one will leave me feeling good about myself and my partner and the other will leave me disappointed in my partner and not feeling all that great about myself either. Perhaps I never said anything about it because I so much wanted to please him that I thought that if I let him have it his way that he would appreciate it enough to ask me how I would like it sometimes.
Sometimes I would just fantasize in my head the things I wanted to hear said. That worked pretty well until he would bring me back to reality by saying something demeaning. Truth be told I didn’t mind most of the things he said. It was just one word that really stung the most, the one that was like ice water thrown over me – STUPID. That was the one word that he used that I found downright insulting. That was one word I would have banned from our bedroom if I could have. STUPID. How does that have any impact on the sexual aspect of the situation? How is that supposed to make me feel more like fucking? How is that anything except an insult? I can take slut, whore, tramp, and similar words as compliments in the context of a good fucking, but stupid? Nope, I can’t find anything there to turn me on. Nothing at all. I wonder what he ever got out of it.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Happy Anniversary
Today is my three year anniversary at my job. Looking back three years ago it seems like such a short time in some ways and a lifetime ago in others. The new job meant a second big move in just a few years’ time, a disruption whose effects continue to ripple through my life. Some things are better than they were then, some things are worse, some are just different but not really better or worse, and some things are just still the same. Let’s look at each category, shall we?
Better
Worse
Just Different
Same
Overall, I would say that the Betters outweigh the Worses. Also, many of those Sames are things I need to help change so there’s plenty of room to keep making the Better list longer.
Better
- BJ and I have run our course
- M is a steady source of physical release so I’m not so on edge all the time
- Meds for the depression finally seem to be right
- Freud is helping me be a better me
- I have season Illini basketball tickets
- I love, love, love, love, love my church
- I have developed true friendships with a few people
Worse
- I keep letting J back into my life in spite of him being on marriage #3
- I am dealing with a house I never should have bought
- Finances continue to worsen, at least for the next few months
- My relationship with my parents is becoming more strained again
- My weight is back up to where it was before I lost weight several years ago
- I let Gladys intimidate me to the point where I don’t use my backyard
Just Different
- N is a precocious 11-year-old instead of a precocious 8-year-old
- N is focusing on soccer and basketball as his sports of choice rather than doing everything
- Different boss, now that we’ve cleared the air I no longer consider this a worse thing, but I’m not ready to say it’s a better thing either
Same
- W is still here, once again living in my home
- W and I are still married
- I am still miserable being with W
- I still hate the stupid Hallmark holiday in the middle of February
- I still hate Midwestern winters
- I still miss living in northern CA
Overall, I would say that the Betters outweigh the Worses. Also, many of those Sames are things I need to help change so there’s plenty of room to keep making the Better list longer.
*******************
On another note, (although I suppose one could argue this could’ve been part of the Better list) I have returned to reading one book every week or two. While this isn’t near what my reading used to be it is far greater than it has been in a long time and probably about as much as my busy life can accommodate currently. I credit getting the depression under control with bringing back my ability to concentrate and focus long enough to actually read and comprehend. I recently obtained a library card and am having a ball checking out books and reading.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Thursday Therapy: The One about Nothing
Time again for a Thursday Therapy post? Really? Where does the time go? Oh yeah, I remember now – basketball hoopla, medical hoopla, band concerts, blizzards, the cold that just keeps hanging on giving me the raspy voice and runny nose that makes me so attractive, yadda, yadda, yadda. . .
Okay, so about Tuesday’s session with Freud; he’s taking me down roads I don’t want to go. I can tell because I deflect his questions with non-answers and tangents. I head down a totally different road, and you know what? I can tell I’m not fooling him for a minute. He’s on to me. Oh yes he is. I can see it in his eyes (when I dare look him in the eye). So far he’s being gentle with me. So far he hasn’t overtly called me on it. So far. . . I get the feeling though that I won’t get away with it for another session. And really, I shouldn’t. It isn’t a productive use of his time or mine. Even if he doesn’t call me on it, I need to call myself on it and get back on board.
So can I talk about it here? Can I face it in my own head, my own blog, my own world? Yes? No? Maybe?
You know (and I know you know because you’ve read it here oh so many times), whenever I am faced with tension, discomfort, unease, my tendency is to bolt, to run, to flee the scene. My fight or flight instinct is set heavily towards the flight side, very heavily. Along with this comes an acceptance of things that I shouldn’t accept. I let people walk all over me because it’s just easier. It is easier to accept things as they are rather than go through the discomfort it would cause me to refuse to accept them. It’s easier, but it builds up. It builds up until I am so miserable that flight response kicks in. Right now, the flight response is not at the highest it’s ever been, but it’s higher than normal. It’s approaching the danger zone.
What? Huh? What’s that? You sense deflection here too? You sense I’m not playing on the level here? You sense I’m not really talking here about what Freud tried addressing with me on Tuesday. Oh you are very astute. Yes you are. Truth be told if I just wrote it here, and you read it you’d say to yourself, “Well, what the hell is the big deal?” Oh yes you would. Don’t even argue with me. I know you would.
Bleah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Okay, so about Tuesday’s session with Freud; he’s taking me down roads I don’t want to go. I can tell because I deflect his questions with non-answers and tangents. I head down a totally different road, and you know what? I can tell I’m not fooling him for a minute. He’s on to me. Oh yes he is. I can see it in his eyes (when I dare look him in the eye). So far he’s being gentle with me. So far he hasn’t overtly called me on it. So far. . . I get the feeling though that I won’t get away with it for another session. And really, I shouldn’t. It isn’t a productive use of his time or mine. Even if he doesn’t call me on it, I need to call myself on it and get back on board.
So can I talk about it here? Can I face it in my own head, my own blog, my own world? Yes? No? Maybe?
You know (and I know you know because you’ve read it here oh so many times), whenever I am faced with tension, discomfort, unease, my tendency is to bolt, to run, to flee the scene. My fight or flight instinct is set heavily towards the flight side, very heavily. Along with this comes an acceptance of things that I shouldn’t accept. I let people walk all over me because it’s just easier. It is easier to accept things as they are rather than go through the discomfort it would cause me to refuse to accept them. It’s easier, but it builds up. It builds up until I am so miserable that flight response kicks in. Right now, the flight response is not at the highest it’s ever been, but it’s higher than normal. It’s approaching the danger zone.
What? Huh? What’s that? You sense deflection here too? You sense I’m not playing on the level here? You sense I’m not really talking here about what Freud tried addressing with me on Tuesday. Oh you are very astute. Yes you are. Truth be told if I just wrote it here, and you read it you’d say to yourself, “Well, what the hell is the big deal?” Oh yes you would. Don’t even argue with me. I know you would.
Bleah. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Hoopla at the Hoohah
WARNING: This post is chock full of TMI of the female reproductive system type. Read on at your own risk. Just sayin’.
Tuesday dawned bright and cold. Okay, maybe it wasn’t too bright. Actually, it was pretty overcast, but somehow the blanket of snow that Ma Nature laid down the night before made things seem pretty bright. Also slick apparently because virtually all of the schools in the area were closed for the day.
Being the lucky girl that I am, I had planned a day off of work for Tuesday. I scheduled a couple of appointments for that day and thought I’d also get some errands crossed off the to do list. Surely, we wouldn’t be blanketed with snow and ice, left to battle icy winds, on my day off. Umm. . . yeah, actually we would. . . because that’s the kind of lucky girl I am.
(I know, no TMI yet. You still have time to retreat before the graphic gore begins. It is coming soon. Run while there’s still time!)
In preparation for the day’s first appointment I had taken meds the night before and again in the morning. The meds were to soften my cervix to make insertion of my brand new IUD (because, really, don’t get the used ones) easier for the Dr. and for me. They had two lovely side effects – abdominal cramps and diarrhea – that hit me like a ton of bricks. I haven’t shit so much since the night before my colonoscopy a few weeks back. Also, these meds are used sometimes to jumpstart labor. Apparently, my uterus thought that’s what we were going for here and tried it’s best to have contractions. So, you know, I was just in a really good mood as I bundled up to fight the slick roads to head off to the clinic.
I arrived at the Dr.’s office a few minutes early because I had allowed extra drive time due to the road conditions. I sat in the waiting room with all the young women with protruding bellies that heralded happier reasons for being there than I had. Eventually I was called into the office (and of course they called me by the wrong name; of course; please do not saddle your offspring with unusual and difficult to pronounce names even if the name is absolutely beautiful; please for the love of God if you learn nothing else by reading this blog learn that) where I got the bright spot of my day during the weigh in. I’ve lost seven pounds since Christmas. Woohoo!
Then came the actual procedure, the one where the Dr. was going to place the IUD. . . if only she could find the canal through which it must enter the uterus. After a small amount of difficulty (and just the smallest agony on my part resulting in sounds emitting from my voice that no person should ever hear) she inserted the probe to measure the uterus to make sure the IUD would fit. At the time I didn’t realize that was all that was happening. I thought that she was placing the IUD. I held on for dear life through the pain trying with all my might to hang in there until it was over. I breathed a deep sigh of relief when she removed her instrument of torture from my tender womb. That’s when she announced that all was ready for the IUD insertion. Are you kidding me? All that just to prepare for it? I took a deep breath and stoically prepared myself for the next onslaught on my nether regions.
After a few unsuccessful attempts she called in her nurse and asked her to bring in the ultrasound machine. Her thought was that it might be easier to locate the canal that way. It didn’t. Eventually, the Dr. gave up. It was an incredible relief at that point. I hurt about as much or more than I thought I could ever handle.
The Dr. gave me a few options. I could have her keep trying, she could call one of the other OBs in to see if they had better luck, or we could schedule an outpatient surgery for her to do a hysteroscopy along with the IUD insertion. I asked her if she thought another OB would have any better chance than she had. She said no, it would just be a matter of luck if anyone could locate the canal at that point. I chose surgery. The Dr. praised me for how well I had handled it all and assured me that I was not a wimp in any way. She left me to get dressed and regain some of my dignity.
With that she turned me over to her nurse to get me all scheduled for surgery. I signed forms and answered questions and eventually we had me scheduled for surgery next Monday at an unspecified time. (They don’t tell you the time of your surgery until the afternoon of the business day before the surgery. Seems weird to me, but then what do I know?) In the meantime, I must go through a pre-op consultation with the anesthesiologist and get a full pelvic ultrasound. Well, since I was already off work yesterday and since the lab could fit me in for the ultrasound that afternoon I took the appointment.
Of course I had to do the whole drink way too much water and then don’t pee routine for the ultrasound. Fortunately, they didn’t make me wait long for my appointment (a few years ago I had to wait over 20 minutes for a pelvic ultrasound and might’ve waited longer had I not threatened to pee on the carpet in the waiting room if they didn’t hustle up) so it wasn’t too uncomfortable. I had the pleasure of having a student perform the external part of the ultrasound. I would have suspected she was a student even if she hadn’t told me and asked my consent for her to do the procedure. Why? Well, aside from the rather large “Student” printed on her nametag, she didn’t press very hard when she was doing the ultrasound. Several times the actual tech who was supervising her had to help her and get her to push harder. I’m sure that’s how a lot of people are when they start. After all, they probably go into a medical career because they want to help people not bruise the shit out of them. A seasoned tech knows though that to get the picture you’ve got to push down a bit more than skimming the surface.
After the external was complete they let me pee and return for the internal ultrasound using what I like to call the dildoscope. The tech (a man) was too polite to actually insert the scope himself and asked me to do it with the instruction to insert it “similar to a tampon but a different size.” I almost said, “Oh, so like a dildo?” but then thought better of it. It isn’t good to get on the bad side of someone who has you in a most vulnerable position. Anyway, I inserted it as instructed, and he proceeded to take pictures of things very few have ever seen. Although he said this part of the process would only take about 10 minutes it felt like an awfully long time. I’m just not used to anyone spending that much time and paying that much attention to that part of my body.
Once that was all over, I got dressed for the third time that day and went to my regularly scheduled visit with Freud, but I’ll talk about that in the Thursday Therapy post this week.
Now, a day later, I’m having (mid-cycle) bleeding to rival most periods. Also, just a bit ago, the Dr. called to tell me that several cysts were found on both ovaries during the ultrasound. I need to have a follow up ultrasound in 6-8 weeks to determine if they’ve shrunk on their own or if I will need laparoscopic surgery. The Dr. left it up to me whether I wanted to go ahead with Monday’s surgery even with the possibility of another surgery in a couple of months or if I wanted to cancel Monday’s surgery and do it in a couple of months after the follow up ultrasound so that if necessary we can do both the IUD and the laparoscopic surgery at the same time. I chose to wait. I’d rather do one surgery day rather than two.
And if things don’t start getting better, I may just suggest she yank out the whole works regardless of the fact that there is nothing cancerous going on. A woman can only take so much hoopla around her hoohah before finally screaming, “Enough is enough!!”
Tuesday dawned bright and cold. Okay, maybe it wasn’t too bright. Actually, it was pretty overcast, but somehow the blanket of snow that Ma Nature laid down the night before made things seem pretty bright. Also slick apparently because virtually all of the schools in the area were closed for the day.
Being the lucky girl that I am, I had planned a day off of work for Tuesday. I scheduled a couple of appointments for that day and thought I’d also get some errands crossed off the to do list. Surely, we wouldn’t be blanketed with snow and ice, left to battle icy winds, on my day off. Umm. . . yeah, actually we would. . . because that’s the kind of lucky girl I am.
(I know, no TMI yet. You still have time to retreat before the graphic gore begins. It is coming soon. Run while there’s still time!)
In preparation for the day’s first appointment I had taken meds the night before and again in the morning. The meds were to soften my cervix to make insertion of my brand new IUD (because, really, don’t get the used ones) easier for the Dr. and for me. They had two lovely side effects – abdominal cramps and diarrhea – that hit me like a ton of bricks. I haven’t shit so much since the night before my colonoscopy a few weeks back. Also, these meds are used sometimes to jumpstart labor. Apparently, my uterus thought that’s what we were going for here and tried it’s best to have contractions. So, you know, I was just in a really good mood as I bundled up to fight the slick roads to head off to the clinic.
I arrived at the Dr.’s office a few minutes early because I had allowed extra drive time due to the road conditions. I sat in the waiting room with all the young women with protruding bellies that heralded happier reasons for being there than I had. Eventually I was called into the office (and of course they called me by the wrong name; of course; please do not saddle your offspring with unusual and difficult to pronounce names even if the name is absolutely beautiful; please for the love of God if you learn nothing else by reading this blog learn that) where I got the bright spot of my day during the weigh in. I’ve lost seven pounds since Christmas. Woohoo!
Then came the actual procedure, the one where the Dr. was going to place the IUD. . . if only she could find the canal through which it must enter the uterus. After a small amount of difficulty (and just the smallest agony on my part resulting in sounds emitting from my voice that no person should ever hear) she inserted the probe to measure the uterus to make sure the IUD would fit. At the time I didn’t realize that was all that was happening. I thought that she was placing the IUD. I held on for dear life through the pain trying with all my might to hang in there until it was over. I breathed a deep sigh of relief when she removed her instrument of torture from my tender womb. That’s when she announced that all was ready for the IUD insertion. Are you kidding me? All that just to prepare for it? I took a deep breath and stoically prepared myself for the next onslaught on my nether regions.
After a few unsuccessful attempts she called in her nurse and asked her to bring in the ultrasound machine. Her thought was that it might be easier to locate the canal that way. It didn’t. Eventually, the Dr. gave up. It was an incredible relief at that point. I hurt about as much or more than I thought I could ever handle.
The Dr. gave me a few options. I could have her keep trying, she could call one of the other OBs in to see if they had better luck, or we could schedule an outpatient surgery for her to do a hysteroscopy along with the IUD insertion. I asked her if she thought another OB would have any better chance than she had. She said no, it would just be a matter of luck if anyone could locate the canal at that point. I chose surgery. The Dr. praised me for how well I had handled it all and assured me that I was not a wimp in any way. She left me to get dressed and regain some of my dignity.
With that she turned me over to her nurse to get me all scheduled for surgery. I signed forms and answered questions and eventually we had me scheduled for surgery next Monday at an unspecified time. (They don’t tell you the time of your surgery until the afternoon of the business day before the surgery. Seems weird to me, but then what do I know?) In the meantime, I must go through a pre-op consultation with the anesthesiologist and get a full pelvic ultrasound. Well, since I was already off work yesterday and since the lab could fit me in for the ultrasound that afternoon I took the appointment.
Of course I had to do the whole drink way too much water and then don’t pee routine for the ultrasound. Fortunately, they didn’t make me wait long for my appointment (a few years ago I had to wait over 20 minutes for a pelvic ultrasound and might’ve waited longer had I not threatened to pee on the carpet in the waiting room if they didn’t hustle up) so it wasn’t too uncomfortable. I had the pleasure of having a student perform the external part of the ultrasound. I would have suspected she was a student even if she hadn’t told me and asked my consent for her to do the procedure. Why? Well, aside from the rather large “Student” printed on her nametag, she didn’t press very hard when she was doing the ultrasound. Several times the actual tech who was supervising her had to help her and get her to push harder. I’m sure that’s how a lot of people are when they start. After all, they probably go into a medical career because they want to help people not bruise the shit out of them. A seasoned tech knows though that to get the picture you’ve got to push down a bit more than skimming the surface.
After the external was complete they let me pee and return for the internal ultrasound using what I like to call the dildoscope. The tech (a man) was too polite to actually insert the scope himself and asked me to do it with the instruction to insert it “similar to a tampon but a different size.” I almost said, “Oh, so like a dildo?” but then thought better of it. It isn’t good to get on the bad side of someone who has you in a most vulnerable position. Anyway, I inserted it as instructed, and he proceeded to take pictures of things very few have ever seen. Although he said this part of the process would only take about 10 minutes it felt like an awfully long time. I’m just not used to anyone spending that much time and paying that much attention to that part of my body.
Once that was all over, I got dressed for the third time that day and went to my regularly scheduled visit with Freud, but I’ll talk about that in the Thursday Therapy post this week.
Now, a day later, I’m having (mid-cycle) bleeding to rival most periods. Also, just a bit ago, the Dr. called to tell me that several cysts were found on both ovaries during the ultrasound. I need to have a follow up ultrasound in 6-8 weeks to determine if they’ve shrunk on their own or if I will need laparoscopic surgery. The Dr. left it up to me whether I wanted to go ahead with Monday’s surgery even with the possibility of another surgery in a couple of months or if I wanted to cancel Monday’s surgery and do it in a couple of months after the follow up ultrasound so that if necessary we can do both the IUD and the laparoscopic surgery at the same time. I chose to wait. I’d rather do one surgery day rather than two.
And if things don’t start getting better, I may just suggest she yank out the whole works regardless of the fact that there is nothing cancerous going on. A woman can only take so much hoopla around her hoohah before finally screaming, “Enough is enough!!”
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
The Big Game
Wow. Just wow. That’s the only way I can describe this past weekend. It was a whirlwind of activity, chock full of fun events, a few obligations, a couple of annoyances and even a little time for a Sunday afternoon nap.
N and I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning knowing we had a big day ahead. We dressed in our finest (aka most outrageous) Illini outfits. We headed off down the slick, slippery roads to get bagels and hot beverages to help us stand outside the Assembly Hall while we waited for the doors to open for the ESPN Game Day hoopla. When we arrived at 7:30 a.m. (doors were scheduled to open at 8:00 a.m.) there was already a line. Actually, there were already several lines, one at each of several entrances. We chose what looked to be the shortest, and nearest, line. We stood. We ate. We shivered. We drank. We chuckled at the outfits of some other fans. We shivered. We booed when a small Spartan fan contingent got in line. We shivered some more. We chanted with the rest of the crowd, “Let us in! Let us in!” We shivered.
Finally, the doors opened wide, and we made our way into the Assembly Hall. N, me and some 4,100of our closest friends other Illini fans all rushed in to get the good seats. Not that we would spend much time sitting in our seats, mind you, at least not once Digger came out to get the crowd warmed up. We made our way to B section, not too far away from the guy in a chicken suit wearing an Illini basketball uniform.
N made it onto national TV, only for a second or two though so he’s got plenty of time left on his life’s 15 minutes of fame. If you happened to watch ESPN Game Day last Saturday morning and happened to notice a young kid in a fuzzy orange hat smack dab in the middle of your screen for a moment then you saw N. If you missed it, I have it recorded so drop by sometime, and we’ll be happy to show you. And me? Well, let’s just say if you look really hard at some of the wide shots of the whole crowd that was me about two thirds of the way up, a little right of center. Surely you saw me. The one in the orange shirt? Yeah, that was me.
Now, you’d think that being part of ESPN’s Game Day would be the highlight of the day, right? Well, not even close. We’d only just begun. The afternoon held more fun for the family. N’s school had a fine arts festival, and after that N had a basketball game. W got the pleasure (okay, so I practically had to force him to do it, but dang it I can’t be made to do every damn thing involving N) of attending these two events as I stayed home nursing my cold and resting up for Saturday night. N had a great time both at the festival and his game.
Finally, the best part of the day arrived – Saturday night – the big game – the thing everyone was abuzz over – that magical moment – Illini Basketball. The Illini took on the then #5 (now just #10) Spartans. Now Spartan fans (and I know there's at least one who'll read this) will probably whine and tell you they would’ve won had one of their best players not been out with an injury. I’ll tell you that the Illini nation wasn’t about to let the Spartans come into our territory, with Dickie V, Digger, Jay and company in the house, and beat us. No way. No how. My boys played their hearts out. They fought back every time the Spartans made a run at it. The Illini absolutely were not going to let the Spartans get the best of them. Saturday night’s game was one of the best live games I’ve attended. I had an absolutely awesome time. . . Awesome!!
I was wound up by the time I got home from the game. I even watched a bit of the game (well, of course I recorded the game even though I was there) on TV just to help me settle down. I also did a bit of prep, but not as much as I should have, for Sunday School and church.
Sunday morning I was up early because I had to finish preparing for church. I was liturgist so I could hardly show up ill prepared. I was hoarse from the combination of cheering the day before and my cold. At church, I facilitated the Sunday School class I'm leading then helped with worship.
I was planning on attending the women's basketball game Sunday afternoon, but it all finally caught up with me. I napped. I napped really, really well from about 2:00 - 5:00 p.m. I would've napped some more, but I was afraid I wouldn't sleep that night if I did.
Oh, and I hear there was some sort of little football game Sunday evening. Honestly? I was too tuckered out to pay much attention.
N and I woke up bright and early on Saturday morning knowing we had a big day ahead. We dressed in our finest (aka most outrageous) Illini outfits. We headed off down the slick, slippery roads to get bagels and hot beverages to help us stand outside the Assembly Hall while we waited for the doors to open for the ESPN Game Day hoopla. When we arrived at 7:30 a.m. (doors were scheduled to open at 8:00 a.m.) there was already a line. Actually, there were already several lines, one at each of several entrances. We chose what looked to be the shortest, and nearest, line. We stood. We ate. We shivered. We drank. We chuckled at the outfits of some other fans. We shivered. We booed when a small Spartan fan contingent got in line. We shivered some more. We chanted with the rest of the crowd, “Let us in! Let us in!” We shivered.
Finally, the doors opened wide, and we made our way into the Assembly Hall. N, me and some 4,100
N made it onto national TV, only for a second or two though so he’s got plenty of time left on his life’s 15 minutes of fame. If you happened to watch ESPN Game Day last Saturday morning and happened to notice a young kid in a fuzzy orange hat smack dab in the middle of your screen for a moment then you saw N. If you missed it, I have it recorded so drop by sometime, and we’ll be happy to show you. And me? Well, let’s just say if you look really hard at some of the wide shots of the whole crowd that was me about two thirds of the way up, a little right of center. Surely you saw me. The one in the orange shirt? Yeah, that was me.
Now, you’d think that being part of ESPN’s Game Day would be the highlight of the day, right? Well, not even close. We’d only just begun. The afternoon held more fun for the family. N’s school had a fine arts festival, and after that N had a basketball game. W got the pleasure (okay, so I practically had to force him to do it, but dang it I can’t be made to do every damn thing involving N) of attending these two events as I stayed home nursing my cold and resting up for Saturday night. N had a great time both at the festival and his game.
Finally, the best part of the day arrived – Saturday night – the big game – the thing everyone was abuzz over – that magical moment – Illini Basketball. The Illini took on the then #5 (now just #10) Spartans. Now Spartan fans (and I know there's at least one who'll read this) will probably whine and tell you they would’ve won had one of their best players not been out with an injury. I’ll tell you that the Illini nation wasn’t about to let the Spartans come into our territory, with Dickie V, Digger, Jay and company in the house, and beat us. No way. No how. My boys played their hearts out. They fought back every time the Spartans made a run at it. The Illini absolutely were not going to let the Spartans get the best of them. Saturday night’s game was one of the best live games I’ve attended. I had an absolutely awesome time. . . Awesome!!
I was wound up by the time I got home from the game. I even watched a bit of the game (well, of course I recorded the game even though I was there) on TV just to help me settle down. I also did a bit of prep, but not as much as I should have, for Sunday School and church.
Sunday morning I was up early because I had to finish preparing for church. I was liturgist so I could hardly show up ill prepared. I was hoarse from the combination of cheering the day before and my cold. At church, I facilitated the Sunday School class I'm leading then helped with worship.
I was planning on attending the women's basketball game Sunday afternoon, but it all finally caught up with me. I napped. I napped really, really well from about 2:00 - 5:00 p.m. I would've napped some more, but I was afraid I wouldn't sleep that night if I did.
Oh, and I hear there was some sort of little football game Sunday evening. Honestly? I was too tuckered out to pay much attention.
Monday, February 08, 2010
Sunday Stealing: The Pretentious Blogging Meme 2
A continuation of the Sunday Stealing meme from last week
12. How many drafts of potential blog posts do you have right now? Not many at all. I think I may have a couple, but generally if it’s a thought that makes it into words on the screen it gets published right away for better or worse.
13. In what medium do you draft your posts? Often in a Word document. Occasionally I just write right there in Blogger.
14. How often do you completely scratch or delete drafts or blog post ideas? Very rarely. It happens, but probably not more than once every couple of months.
15. If you had to leave your blog in your will to another blogger, who would you choose? That’s tough. I can’t imagine anyone would want it. I’d like to think though that it would stay out there in the ethereal world of the interwebs and that someone would put up a final post about my demise and wax poetically about me. I guess I’d leave it to JeniAngel only because she’s way younger than I so she’s the one most likely to still be living after I’m gone. ‘Cause you know, I’m going to live to be at least 90 so even she’ll be practically 70 by the time I’m gone.
16. Are there other blogs that you feel are similar to yours in content, style, or voice? Not really. I like to think I’m one of a kind. :-)
17. Has anything surprised you since you started blogging? That anyone actually reads my blog, and even more surprising that some people actually care what happens to me.
18. What are your goals or plans for your blog going forward? Just keep on keepin’ on. . .
19. Do you make any money from your blog? (optional) about how much a month? Are you f***ing kidding me?!? I make nada, zilch, zero, nuttin’. Truthfully, I can’t imagine having it any other way. Too much pressure to actually write something useful and of interest if I was being paid.
20. What blogging system do you use? Blogger.
21. How did you come up with your blog name? Because when I started I was writing about things that were probably the worst thoughts I have ever had and the worst things I’ve ever done. I’ve grown since then, but the blog name still resonates with me because I try not to sugar coat things that I write.
22. How many blogs do you have? What was your peak? Currently, I’m at my peak. I have three. I have this one which is my most public anonymous one. I have a private one where I share things only with people I’ve invited to read, a little inner circle shall we say. It’s where I “take out the trash.” Just recently I’ve started a third one, right out in the open as the IRL me. It is in its infancy, and I’m not quite sure where I’ll go with it.
23. Are you having as much fun as when you started? More. I have found the whole writing experience to be quite cathartic, and blogging suits me because it is available to me anytime and anywhere I have internet access.
24. Where do you find other bloggers like you? Mostly they find me it seems. However, I do find some through links on other blogs I read, and more recently on Twitter.
25. What’s your one wish when it comes to blogging? That all my bloggy friends don’t fade away. My heart skips a beat every time one of my favorite bloggers contemplates closing up shop. Bleah. . .
12. How many drafts of potential blog posts do you have right now? Not many at all. I think I may have a couple, but generally if it’s a thought that makes it into words on the screen it gets published right away for better or worse.
13. In what medium do you draft your posts? Often in a Word document. Occasionally I just write right there in Blogger.
14. How often do you completely scratch or delete drafts or blog post ideas? Very rarely. It happens, but probably not more than once every couple of months.
15. If you had to leave your blog in your will to another blogger, who would you choose? That’s tough. I can’t imagine anyone would want it. I’d like to think though that it would stay out there in the ethereal world of the interwebs and that someone would put up a final post about my demise and wax poetically about me. I guess I’d leave it to JeniAngel only because she’s way younger than I so she’s the one most likely to still be living after I’m gone. ‘Cause you know, I’m going to live to be at least 90 so even she’ll be practically 70 by the time I’m gone.
16. Are there other blogs that you feel are similar to yours in content, style, or voice? Not really. I like to think I’m one of a kind. :-)
17. Has anything surprised you since you started blogging? That anyone actually reads my blog, and even more surprising that some people actually care what happens to me.
18. What are your goals or plans for your blog going forward? Just keep on keepin’ on. . .
19. Do you make any money from your blog? (optional) about how much a month? Are you f***ing kidding me?!? I make nada, zilch, zero, nuttin’. Truthfully, I can’t imagine having it any other way. Too much pressure to actually write something useful and of interest if I was being paid.
20. What blogging system do you use? Blogger.
21. How did you come up with your blog name? Because when I started I was writing about things that were probably the worst thoughts I have ever had and the worst things I’ve ever done. I’ve grown since then, but the blog name still resonates with me because I try not to sugar coat things that I write.
22. How many blogs do you have? What was your peak? Currently, I’m at my peak. I have three. I have this one which is my most public anonymous one. I have a private one where I share things only with people I’ve invited to read, a little inner circle shall we say. It’s where I “take out the trash.” Just recently I’ve started a third one, right out in the open as the IRL me. It is in its infancy, and I’m not quite sure where I’ll go with it.
23. Are you having as much fun as when you started? More. I have found the whole writing experience to be quite cathartic, and blogging suits me because it is available to me anytime and anywhere I have internet access.
24. Where do you find other bloggers like you? Mostly they find me it seems. However, I do find some through links on other blogs I read, and more recently on Twitter.
25. What’s your one wish when it comes to blogging? That all my bloggy friends don’t fade away. My heart skips a beat every time one of my favorite bloggers contemplates closing up shop. Bleah. . .
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Thursday Therapy
What follows is a rambling disjointed post that barely makes sense. Deal with it. It is an accurate reflection of my brain's workings (or how it's not working) today. I blame it on the cold I caught from N.
I'm not too sure what to write this week for this post. I am feeling somewhat calm and good and in a place where I am comfortable with myself. Now, I wouldn't expect that to last long, being the eternal pessimist. However, I am trying to grasp this upbeat mood and hang on to it.
Of course, I will still talk to Freud next Tuesday about how to deal with W and his stuff. Also, I want to develop a strategy for dealing with that holiday that's coming the second weekend of February.
I think I'll address one of the comments from my last post here. One commenter said:
There are definitely parts of the marriage covenant that are not being upheld on my part. Most definitely. I don't deny that for a moment. I'm not proud of that fact, but I do acknowledge it.
However, when it comes to upholding my commitment I stand by my decision. Even though I know some people, including the commenter above, disagree with my decision that won't change my mind. That's okay. No matter what I do someone will think I've made the wrong decision. While it would be nice for everyone to approve of my decisions and actions, that will never happen. That's just not how things work. Life is messy, and sometimes there's just not a paper towel big enough to clean it all up. Sometimes you just accept the mess and step around it.
On the other hand, as Freud works with me through my issues I could very well change my mind, decide to boot W's butt out the door for good and move on. I don't know what the future holds. I just know that for now I am at peace with the decision to see this thing through. As long as I'm at peace with it that's what matters to me.
I'm not too sure what to write this week for this post. I am feeling somewhat calm and good and in a place where I am comfortable with myself. Now, I wouldn't expect that to last long, being the eternal pessimist. However, I am trying to grasp this upbeat mood and hang on to it.
Of course, I will still talk to Freud next Tuesday about how to deal with W and his stuff. Also, I want to develop a strategy for dealing with that holiday that's coming the second weekend of February.
I think I'll address one of the comments from my last post here. One commenter said:
But you aren't really seeing through that commitment. And I'm not saying you should. But barely tolerating someone's presence is a far cry from a real commitment to marriage.
Seems to me it would be better to kick the guy out and live your life fully then pretend you're satisfying some covenant you aren't really holding to.
There are definitely parts of the marriage covenant that are not being upheld on my part. Most definitely. I don't deny that for a moment. I'm not proud of that fact, but I do acknowledge it.
However, when it comes to upholding my commitment I stand by my decision. Even though I know some people, including the commenter above, disagree with my decision that won't change my mind. That's okay. No matter what I do someone will think I've made the wrong decision. While it would be nice for everyone to approve of my decisions and actions, that will never happen. That's just not how things work. Life is messy, and sometimes there's just not a paper towel big enough to clean it all up. Sometimes you just accept the mess and step around it.
On the other hand, as Freud works with me through my issues I could very well change my mind, decide to boot W's butt out the door for good and move on. I don't know what the future holds. I just know that for now I am at peace with the decision to see this thing through. As long as I'm at peace with it that's what matters to me.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
Groundhog Day Forecast: Cloudy with Perhaps a Ray of Sun
Today’s post is presented in Herb Caen three dot journalistic fashion. For those clueless to the meaning of that (I suspect just about anyone who hasn’t spent time in the Bay Area) click on the link. Herb Caen was an icon. I never missed a column of his the entire time I lived in Northern CA. My version of three dot journalism pales in comparison to his. But it’s more fun than doing just a regular ole’ bullet point list. So there.
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N has a nasty bronchial virus. He is one miserable boy. We’ve spent lots of time in a warm, steamy bathroom the last few days trying to make breathing a little easier. He stayed home from school yesterday and again today. Mind you, he doesn’t mind missing school, but he was quite upset that he might miss a pizza party his class is having. You see, N earned that pizza party for his class by completing a challenge from his teacher. The challenge? Turn in every single assignment for one whole week. Now you and I both know that shouldn’t be a big deal. That’s just what you do, turn in your assignments. However, it has been an ongoing struggle with N, and he swore there was no possible way he could ever turn in everything for a whole week. Well, he did. Therefore, a pizza party at the teacher’s expense is the reward. Of course the teacher is going to wait until N returns to school before having the pizza party, but N was worried enough about it that I spoke to his teacher yesterday to confirm it. Now all is well. N can rest and recuperate in peace knowing that pizza will not be had without him.* * *
W continues to go through life completely clueless. He is so clueless about so many things. He just goes through life with blinders on, refusing to look at anything he doesn’t want to see, refusing to acknowledge anything that may be different than his perception. It is clear to me that he is completely 100% clueless that I am barely tolerating his presence at home. He doesn’t seem to get that in spite of my trying to be cordial and not ice cold to him at all times that doesn’t mean that I’m all head over heels in love with him. He’s convinced himself that ours is a love that is stronger than all the troubles we’ve had. What is actually stronger than all our troubles is my ability to tolerate less than tolerable situations. While some may see me as weak because I have let him back in the house I see myself as strong, strong enough to tolerate, strong enough to bide my time, strong enough to see through a commitment made years ago when I didn’t have a clue where that commitment would take me. * * *
Related to W’s cluelessness, I am somewhat dreading that awful holiday that falls in the middle of the second month of the year. I dread it because I anticipate that W will try to do something special for me to show me how much he loves me. Ick. Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn.* * *
Church work is consuming more of my time lately, and I love it! I think it’s really good to spend my time involved in spiritual things. I find it to be very nourishing to my soul. After facilitating an adult bible study lately I am feeling ever so much more plugged into my church community. For the upcoming year (and probably two) I will be working heavily in the adult education ministry of our church. This is absolutely a brand new area for me and not one that I would have ever actively sought out on my own as a ministry for myself. However, God knows better than we sometimes (Just sometimes? Okay, so leave the sometimes out of that statement.) so that’s where I am and feeling optimistic and enthusiastic about it. I think that if BJ and I were still together I probably would not have opened myself to this kind of role as I would have feared it would take time away from “us” since he was not an enthusiastic church person.* * *
I am so much better off without BJ in my life. Yes, I know you knew that. It’s just that it took me, as usual, a bit of time to catch up. He dragged me down in ways that I refused to acknowledge for a very long time. I have spent a lot of time thinking about our relationship lately, but not in missing it like I did for a while. I have been thinking about a lot of the negatives that were there, and there were a lot of negatives. He was, once again, a project for me. He was a lost sheep for me to save. The problem though is that I am not a shepherd. It is not my job to save lost sheep, and I am not good at it anyway. It is not what I need to do. When I met him he was a lost sheep, and when we parted ways he was still a lost sheep. I am somewhat sorry our paths crossed but not a whole lot. I learned some things about myself from my relationship with BJ. I also learned a few things about the standards by which the next man will have to measure up to be allowed into my life in the way I allowed BJ into my life. I truly wish BJ well and hope that someday he finds the thing(s) that elude him in his life. It saddens me that I will probably never know how his life is going because I do care about him, but that’s up to him.* * *
Growth is not always at the pace we desire. Sometimes it comes awfully slowly and with many fits and starts. I feel deeply that I have come through a period of tremendous growth in the last few years. It has been painful, as growth often is. It isn’t over by any means. I’ve still got miles and miles to go to be “right in the head,” but I think I’m finally pointed in the right direction. I think we’ve finally got the right combo of meds to help me stay out of the black hole, at least most of the time. I am learning techniques to use to pull me away from the black hole when I feel myself being lured back. I feel good with where I am and what I’m doing for the most part. Life isn’t quite as bleak as it has been. There are still clouds but more whitish and not so black and gray. You know, if I’m not careful I might just see a ray of sunshine amidst the clouds.
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