Worry -- The Overriding Emotion

It doesn't matter what I do or how I approach things I worry.  I worry about whether I do too much... or too little.  I worry about whether I say too much... or too little.  I worry that bad things will happen to those I love.  I worry that the world doesn't care about me.  I worry that the world cares too much about me.

I worry.  It's what I do.

Today's worry has to do with my leave of absence as mentioned in this post.  But wait.  Let's start at the point where we left off in that post, with me having written a two page diatribe about why I should be allowed to take an unpaid leave of absence and waiting to have an appointment with my psychiatrist to decide next steps.

My appointment with my psychiatrist, who I'll call Dr. K (let's give her a name since she's playing a larger role in my story these days), was first thing Monday morning.  Now there's a way to kick off your week.  Such were my nerves that I decided I needed to treat myself to a mint mocha at my favorite coffee shop on the way to the appointment.  Nothing like caffeine and sugar to calm those nerves! (sarcasm, people; sarcasm)

Although I was her first appointment of the day, Dr. K was running late so I got to sit in the waiting room and worry about how the appointment would go, how to broach the subject of the leave and maybe it covered by FMLA, and why a gentleman chose to sit in the chair right next to me in the waiting room when there were plenty of available seats and sitting directly next to anyone was completely unnecessary.

Once in her office, we got to the meat of the issue.  Since Dr. K is a colleague of Freud and they are basically my mental health team, Freud had filled Dr. K in on my situation.  She let me tell her in my own words though.  I went through much of what I shared here in my blog in that post I linked to earlier.  I cried.  Three times I burst into tears while I shared my story.  Three times!  Within just a few minutes!  I think that indicates how fragile I am right now.

Dr. K told me that if I wanted to go the FMLA route, she would be happy to sign the FMLA paperwork as my recommending medical provider.  She also looked at the combination of meds that I'm on and increased one of the anti-depressants.  I had been taking what they consider a low dose, and she is moving me to what is considered the standard dose.  She also wants me to have a follow up appointment in one month.

I told Dr. K I would return with the FMLA paperwork within the next week so she can sign it, and I can embark on this journey to betterness (hopefully).  Then I scheduled an appointment for the end of October to talk with her again.

On my way back to work, I started the worrying in earnest.  Somehow, I feel like a fraud taking the time off as FMLA.  FMLA is supposed to be for serious medical conditions.  Is what I'm going through a serious medical condition? How serious does a mental health issue need to be to be a "serious medical condition"?  It isn't as though I am on the brink of harming others or myself.  It isn't as though I'm hearing voices that aren't there.  It isn't as though I am completely detached from reality.  Those are the things I think of in the mental health realm that would constitute a serious medical condition.  Am I cheating the system?  Am I selfish for wanting to take a leave of absence to gather myself back together and get back to some semblance of "normal"?  Am I just using this as a way to get back at the U.S. system of not providing adequate vacation time for workers?

These are the questions that buzz about my head day and night since Monday.  So far, I have filled out my portion of the paperwork but haven't gotten it back to Dr. K yet.  I've told Boss that I will be taking FMLA leave, and he and I have been working towards that by establishing who will cover what while I'm gone and developing a plan for training those individuals.  I have an appointment with Freud next Tuesday so I will probably drop the paperwork off for Dr. K at that time.

I am going to continue to worry about this for a while I think, maybe even throughout the leave.  I hope not.  I doubt the leave will be as effective if I spend much of it worrying over whether or not I deserve it.

Bleah... Excuse me, I have to go now.  I feel another good cry coming on...

How to Serve Meals to the Picky

Meals bring a challenge to me because I have very strict rules about how things need to be served (also eaten, but that's another post).

First off, I am a food separatist, i.e. I like my foods to not touch one another.  Nothing freaks me out more than the juices of one food touching another food, and don't even get me started on the random pickle with its nasty pickle juice placed aside, and ruining, a perfectly good sandwich.  No, you can't just move the pickle off the plate.  The juices remain, and inevitably have already at least partially been soaked up by the poor defenseless sandwich.  Dwelling on such tragedy protects me from having to think about other, more important and unsettling things.  I can't tell you what a nightmare it is when the juice from the green beans mingles with the gravy or, God forbid, actually touches the potatoes or the bread.  The horror of it all!  I believe all plates should be segmented like those old school lunch trays -- a place for everything and everything in its place.

Second, there are certain foods that are definitely to be served and eaten together as one.  Good examples of this are mashed potatoes and gravy or cake and ice cream.  Of course these things come with their own difficulties, the biggest being the proportional balance of each bite.  Running out of either food means wasting what is left of the other food because one cannot be expected, once tuned to the goodness of the combination, to actually eat one or the other foods without each other.  Therefore, I employ a rather painstaking process of making sure I maintain as close as possible to even proportions bite to bite that will allow finishing both components at the same time.  It's easier if the server takes care to serve the foods in the proper proportion to begin with.

Third, there are certain foods that should definitely never be served and eaten together as one. The one that particularly bugs me these days is gravy and cheese.  What?!?!?  In my book, that's a sin against nature.  The dish requires cheese, or it requires gravy.  It NEVER requires BOTH.  Given this seems to be the new "in thing" at restaurants to put both gravy and cheese in certain dishes I have become very careful to read descriptions on menus and ask to have one or the other (depending on the dish it could be the cheese most frequently or the gravy rarely) left off.  Also, meatloaf is one of those foods that generally falls under the category of serve with gravy.  However, if the meatloaf is one that is baked with the ketchup on top, then there should be no gravy. 

I have no idea why the rest of the world doesn't understand these rules.  They seem so natural to me.  It isn't like I thought them up.  It just is the order of things... at least in my warped mind.

The Power of Writing and Other Things

Pretty sure my post on my depression last Wednesday had a beneficial effect on my mental health.  I know something did.  Whether it was that or something else I feel better (better being a relative term here) than I did a week ago.

However, I'm fighting another battle, related to the depression sort of, that I have also helped by writing a two page single-spaced missive.  Whether it actually gets used for its intended purpose or not remains to be seen.

This battle is one at work.  It will come as no surprise to anyone to learn that my employer, similar to most U.S. employers, provide little in the way of paid time off to their employees.  Because of that, when there was a shitstorm of family member medical and educational issues that all came up at the same time a few months ago, I took as little time off to deal with them as was possible.  I took care of a whole lot of things for both W and N as they recuperated.  I basically gave up my life to work and family care.  Period.  Nothing for me.  I thought I could do it.  I did it.  Then when W and N were both better, I took a deep breath, relaxed, and basically turned into a basketcase.

Fast forward a couple of months, as I continued to drag myself out of bed, get myself to work to do what I had to in order to get by, provide chauffeur services to W and N since I'm the only driver in the family (and thank goodness that will change in a few months as N gets his license), and to stress out about all the things that aren't getting done because I'm too tired/lazy/overwhelmed. 

Thinking it over, and reviewing The Company's policies on vacation and leave for various reasons, I decided to look into taking a six week personal leave of  absence.  Wanting to work with Boss to make things as smooth as possible I told him about my plan and that I was going to make an appointment with HR to ask some questions that I had about what I had read in the policy and also to assess whether it would be financially feasible for me to bear the burden of about 2/3 of the time off being unpaid.  Reflecting back later, I believe Boss thought that following my research I would decide not to request the time off.

The next week, I met with Boss again, having gotten favorable answers to my questions to HR and also working with W to figure out how we could liquidate some investments to cover my unpaid time, to tell him that I planned to turn in a request for personal leave.  I was a little surprised when he said, "Give me some time to think about this."  However, I agreed, and we left it at that at that time.

I heard nothing for over a week when all of a sudden a meeting request comes through my Outlook to discuss the leave with Boss.  I figured there might be some negotiation on whether six weeks was feasible and was ready to compromise down to five, possibly four if I had to.  Timing, I thought, might also be an issue, and I was ready to be somewhat flexible on that.

That was not what the meeting was about.  The meeting was simply to tell me that just because The Company has a policy on unpaid personal leave doesn't mean they actually grant unpaid personal leave.  Wait... what?  Yes.  My boss encouraged me to try to get the leave covered under FMLA.  Then The Company would have no choice but to grant it if I could present a valid reason for an FMLA leave.  In essence, I was told to go to my psychiatrist, get her to declare me mentally ill to the extent that I need a medical leave, and I can have my time off.  Otherwise, no go.  Also, Boss said I could go ahead and turn in a request for unpaid personal leave, and state my case, but that he wouldn't count on it being successful since it would have to be approved both by him and by HR which won't happen.

Well, I've written a two page thesis on the subject of why I should be granted an unpaid personal leave.  Writing it felt WONDERFUL, very cathartic, very helpful in letting go of the thoughts so they no longer have to occupy my brain but can occupy the written document and be referred back to at any time.  I have not yet submitted it or my request for leave.  I am debating whether to do so before my appointment with my psychiatrist next week or not.  I'm leaning towards waiting and see what comes of my discussion with her.  I've already discussed it with Freud, and he is very supportive of me asserting my need for some serious time off.

Held Hostage at the DMV

Poor N.  No he is not being held hostage.  His driver permit is.  He has passed the written exam.  He has paid his $20.  When the driver ed teacher went to pick up the student's permits, the DMV office was closed. 

When he researched why it was closed during its regular business hours he learned that it is a severe air quality issue.  Apparently, several workers have become severely ill, and a hazardous situation was detected when testing at the facility was done.  So the permits are locked up in the facility, and nobody is allowed inside until the company hired to decontaminate the facility arrives on the scene.

I'm pretty sure nobody has seen a sadder nearly 16-year-old boy than N was yesterday.

We are hoping his permit is released soon.

Lethargy, Black Holes, and Meh...

Blah, blah, blah... Life continues... Blah, blah, blah.

I have neglected this blog because I've been posting on Facebook so much, so very, very much.  However, all my FB posting has ceased lately.  I haven't been to FB to read anybody else's posts.  I have been down in the black hole, and so much of what I want to say when I have the energy to post at all is not for consumption by family members or certain friends.

I'm as far down the black hole as I've been in a long time.  The trigger seemed to be Robin Williams' death, which happened not long after I felt that I was managing to crawl out of the black hole or at least closer to the top of it.  He was 10 years older than I am. He fought depression for years, with some measure of success, meaning he didn't kill himself, until finally that black hole swallowed him whole.  Why that day and not any of the days before that one?  At what point, if ever, will I, after battling depression with some measure of success, finally succumb to the finality of the black hole's infinite depth?

These are the thoughts that have made themselves resident in my brain the last few weeks.  So much has been written about depression since then or at least been reprinted online since then that I have had much fodder for my hunger for information.  No matter how many times I read it or how many sources report it, I still struggle with depression being an actual medical disease rather than a moral or character failing.  Having grown up in a family that believed and taught that you just have to buck up and deal with it no matter what IT is, I struggle to deal with my IT in any way other than berating myself for my failure as a human being.  Not only can I not deal with it on my own, I'm not even succeeding with the combination of therapy and meds that I'm on.  I am, in my mind, a complete and utter failure.

I'm sitting so far down the black hole that I don't even see a way up.  It seems the only way is to sit here on this very low ledge in the hole (I still think the bottom, if there is a bottom to the black hole, is farther down) and stay as still as possible because any movement might make me fall even further into the hole.  I don't, at this moment, see the possibility of making progress upward.  I don't see stairs, a ladder, or even a rope.  I can't see myself committing suicide, but if I went to sleep and never awoke it seems like it would be a blessing in many ways for everyone.  If I just ceased to be... meh, who cares?

Please know that I continue to see my therapist regularly and that I have scheduled an appointment with my psychiatrist for later this month even though I wouldn't normally have had another appointment with her until late November.  I'm trying to do what I can, but the lethargy that accompanies depression is a daunting foe.  Getting out of bed in the morning seems almost too much, yet I manage most days to do so, and to get dressed, and go to work, and take care of the essential things that W and N need from me.

I doubt people around me even really realize the depth of my depression.  When I do venture out into the world it is after I have psyched myself up to put on the face of one who is fine.  I don't even let my guard down around W or N because whenever I do it upsets them too much, and I don't want to worry either of them.  However, when I'm alone -- in the shower, in the car, in the restroom at work, wherever I catch that brief moment to myself -- I cry.  I cry, and I cry, and I cry.  For the least little reason or no reason at all, I cry as though my heart was breaking.

Proper Way to Eat M&Ms

The only proper way to eat M&Ms (for me, as a borderline OCD type) is to separate them by color first, and then eat them one at a time in the following order (this is for standard M&M colors; seasonals can cause extra thought and discomfort):

1. Brown
2. Red
3. Yellow
4. Green
5. Orange & Blue -- These are the exception to the one at a time rule.  These are paired together as evenly as possible given the number of each color you have and are then eaten together in pairs.  If there is one odd orange or blue left over after pairing, you must eat that one first and then eat the rest by pairs.  If there are several more of one color than the other, you must pair two of the more plentiful with one of the less plentiful as many times as necessary to achieve either a one-to-one ratio or two-to-one ratio in each grouping, and then eat each grouping together.

Sunday Stealing: Cupid's Questions Meme

Sunday Stealing

1.)Do you like Valentine's Day?  No
2.)Are you going to celebrate it? Not really
3.)Celebrate Valentine's Day with Friends or someone Special?  No
4.)Pink or red? Red
5.)Candy Hearts OR cards? Candy hearts
6.)A short kiss or a big hug?  Hugs are always welcome
7.)What are your plans for V-day?  Nothing
8.)What would be the best gift to receive? A million dollars
9.)Would get back with any of your ex's for V-day?  No f***ing way
10.)Is there a food or beverage you associate with V-day?  Chocolate
11.) What are your thoughts on "Love at first sight"? Never happens
12.)Do you think people who have dated can stay friends?  Sometimes, but it’s rare
13.) If you could go back in time and give yourself one piece of advice about dating or relationships what would it be?  Have more fun when you’re young and don’t get so hung up on finding a husband

Sunday Stealing: Ask Me Meme

1:What was the last argument you had about?  Dinner
2:How long is your longest relationship?  25 years
3:What is something not many people know about you?  My passion for Bowling for Soup
4:Two truths and a lie. Go.   I have met and spoken with several well known basketball players and coaches. I was a licensed driver for 36 years before I got my first traffic ticket.  I pneumonia twice in the past year.
5:Do you believe in fate/destiny?  Yes
6:Where is somewhere you’ve always wanted to live? My grandparent's farm
7:Has there ever been a song that made you cry? Many
8:Do you jump/scare easily? Extremely
9:Which birthday has been your favorite? 50
10:Have you ever been pulled over? Arrested? Yes, no
11:Have you ever been to a fortune teller? No
12:What’s your favorite series of books? The Donna Parker series by Marcia Martin
13:Who is someone that you think knows the most about you outside of family? Probably my blog readers
14:What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? Brussels sprouts
15:List one of your quirks. I eat everything on my plate one thing at a time from least favorite to most favorite
16:State 1 bad habit of yours. Picking my nose
17:Has a scary movie ever given you nightmares? Oh yes
18:When was the last time you got your hair done in a salon? I believe it was two years ago, maybe three
19:What was the last thing you did with your friends? Progressive dinner
20:What’s something that you like to do that others might see as weird? Make lists, very detailed lists, of all kinds
21:What was the last trip you took? To my mom's over Christmas break

1.	FRANCINE	9.	zippi	17.	Kwizgiver

Sunday Stealing: Ask Me Meme

Not Good at the Game

(Note:  This post was a quickly written, stream of consciousness kind of thing.  Apologies for a lack of coherency, cohesion, and flow from one paragraph to the next.)

I am so very not good at just fitting in the box.  I am so outside the box it isn’t even funny.

Most people seem to want to get out of serving on committees, heading up this or that, participating more than just the bare minimum.  It seems like it is society’s norm that we should all grumble about serving and expressing relief and joy at coming to the end of our term so that we can go back to being a do nothing lump.

That is just SO NOT ME.  I want to be involved.  I want to do things.  I want to be selected to serve on committees, to coordinate activities, to lead this or that.

So recently, when church leadership turned over, and my term as chairperson for one of the main committees ended I was surely disappointed that I was not asked to serve in any capacity for the upcoming year.  I guess I’m just supposed to sit back on my haunches and show up to worship every Sunday.  Bummer.

Why was I given this leave?  Did I do such an awful job that they didn’t want me to serve anywhere anymore?  Did they think I would appreciate having the year off?  Did they bother to tell me or ask me?  NO!  And I don’t really feel I can ask anyone because that just seems to go against all the expectations everyone has that this hiatus is a GOOD thing.

So, you know, I just decided to have myself a good old pity party the other night – whined, ate snacks that were bad for me, and just generally had a hissy fit.  Poor W.  He witnessed it all.  That’s one downside of living with me – my occasional inescapable self-indulgent pity parties.

Oh, but I’ve rebounded some now.  I’ve now decided that since the congregation has decided that anyone with an idea for a new initiative can run with it as long as they can find a second person to help spearhead it that I am going to see if I can’t find a second person to help me start a new women’s fellowship group for the church.  We used to have one, but it was all older ladies who have mostly died off.  I think the reason it was only older ladies was because they always met on weekday afternoons, when many younger women were at work.

So yes, you can keep me from formal leadership, but you can’t keep me from leading one way or another.  Yes, I am THAT woman in the congregation.  Can’t control me.  Can’t stop me no matter how hard you try.  Just one more pain in the butt, thorn in the side for those who are in formal leadership.

Might as Well Admit It

No matter how frustrating he can be, no matter what things he does that make me cringe, for some reason I just can't let W go.

He infuriates me with his curmudgeonly ways.  Does he have to be gruff and verbally combative about absolutely everything?  I don't know.

He embarrasses me in public with some of the things he says and way he says them.  Must he come across as accusatory and angry without the slightest bit of tact or diplomacy?  I don't know.

He scares me when I see "suicide" notes that he has written and left where they are not easy to stumble upon yet not altogether hidden either.  Does he truly intend to go through with it, or are they just ramblings?  I don't know.  Clearly they are a cry for help.

He baffles me with his constant complaints that N and I don't keep our stuff picked up well enough when he has stuff piled up in the office to the point of having to move his computer out to the dining room table and now the dining room table is buried in stuff too.  Is he trying to make a point?  I don't know.  If so, it is too obscure for me to understand.

And yet...

He cooks dinner almost every night -- if I tell him what to make and how to make it.
He adores me, for no reason that I can understand.
He puts up with all of my shit, and still does as much as he can to take care of me.
He does all the stuff I don't want to do, like load the dishwasher and make phone calls.

What it all boils down to is two deciding factors:
(1) I'm too damned scared to be on my own, and
(2) I would feel too guilty if I kicked him to the curb because of his health, both physical and emotional.

I know.  You've heard it all before.  It's just an ongoing cycle of lather, rinse, repeat, lather, rinse, repeat...

Just a Little Update

Until a few days ago, when I stopped my blog for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t realize that so much has happened that I haven’t gone on about here.

Here are the highlights:

Mission Trip – With assistance from a few kind angels who helped finance the trip (you know who you are) I was able to go to Jamaica last June and help distribute brand new shoes to children in several elementary schools there.  The children were a delight.  It was heartwarming to see how happy they were to receive brand new shoes.  As I fit them for their shoes, I told each one, “Thank you for letting me give you a pair of shoes.”  I thought it was important to thank them because it isn’t easy to let a stranger into your life, even for a few minutes, to give you something that maybe you feel ashamed that your family cannot afford on their own.  Plus I wanted them to know that I was grateful for the opportunity to serve them in my small way.

Discernment – I am in the discernment process about attending seminary.  While I feel a strong calling in that direction, I still tend to hesitate.  Recently, I applied for two different jobs in my current field and got neither of them.  Perhaps God has different plans for me than becoming a controller or accounting manager.  Perhaps I’m being too much of a Jonah.  Well, no, not Jonah, but a Moses.  Moses argued with God about being a leader.  He didn’t feel up to the job.  However, if God has plans for you, God has plans for you.  Maybe me not getting these jobs is a sign that I really am supposed to walk through that widening door of opportunity to go into ministry.

J – Oh goodness, I have come to the conclusion that J and I will always be some part of each other’s lives until one of us dies.  We certainly can’t give each other up entirely.  That being said, we haven’t seen each other since the last time mentioned on this blog.  He is still with his wife.  We occasionally private message each other on a social networking site… just to talk, to touch base, to stay connected.  I don’t know if this good, or bad, or sad, or what.  It just is.

BJ – I still think of him too often.  And that’s all I’m going to say about that.

Home life – N continues to grow.  As a teen he is testing the waters of independence, pushing boundaries, and much of the time insists I am the meanest mom on earth.  Whatever… W continues to be the curmudgeonly old man, and although he had quite the medical scare a few months back, he is still tough as nails and as close to immortal as I have ever seen anyone be.  Yep, looks like I’m really in this for the long haul.  We celebrated our 25^th wedding anniversary last summer.  Never thought I’d see that day…

Sex – There ain’t none, nowhere, no how, no offers, no takers, nope, nothin’, nada, zilch, zip.  Sometimes life sucks.

Who knows how long it’ll take me to get back here, but I hope I continue to post here occasionally.  I like going back and reading my own history, and it bums me out when there are big breaks in the action!

Wow...

I haven't posted since March of last year?!?  Really?!?  Wow... just wow...

So much to say, no time to say it.

Oh well, just know that I am alive and well (sort of) and hoping to eventually get back in the habit of writing here.

How's that for a short post that says nothing?

Gone Again

J is gone again, maybe for good.

I hadn't heard from him since are last get together other than a quick email exchange when I checked on his welfare after hearing about a murder at the prison where he works. Then a couple days ago I was restless and decided to message him.

When he answered he told me that he and his wife were back together, in counselling, and he'd promised to behave himself. I replied that I would leave him alone then.

So there we are. Life continues just as it always has.

I suppose I'll never learn...

Later update :
I'm watching Bette Davis in Dangerous. Art imitating life. Or life imitating art. Bleah...

Help Me Be Less Self-Absorbed

To those of you who know me personally (either IRL or in cyberspace) and aren't just wandering by reading this randomly (unless you want to be included, in which case, go ahead), would you consider helping to provide the funds for my participation in the Soles4Souls mission trip this summer?

If you look over in the right side column, you'll see a box you can click on to take you to my personal fundraising page.  Currently I only have about $50 raised towards my goal of $1,500 which is about 2/3 of the cost of my participation.  If you would like to help me take part in a weeklong mission to provide children with shoes, some for the first pair of shoes they've ever owned, please consider donating a small (or large, large is fine, just don't feel like your small donation of a dollar or two won't help because it will all add up) amount to the cause.

It is very easy to donate online, and you may remain anonymous if you choose to do so.  Because it is going straight to Soles4Souls you know I won't be taking the money and wasting it on something frivolous, and since it is a donation to a 501(c)3 organization your donation is US tax deductable as a charitable contribution.

Would You Visit Me in the Loony Bin?

Why does everything have to pile up on me at once? I have been feeling completely swamped by life lately.

• N is having problems at school.
• W is having health issues, again (still?), and spent time in the hospital this week which he wouldn’t let me tell people about so I couldn’t get a great deal of support.
• Work is getting outrageously busy and will continue to be so until around May sometime.
• I’m trying (and failing miserably) to fundraise both for N to go to Europe this summer with his soccer team as well as for me to go on an international mission trip this summer.
• My car, with over 120K miles on it, has decided to become a money pit because it wouldn’t do to just hang in there until after the summer is paid for and over with.
• Plus I was down with strep throat a couple of weeks ago.

It is times like these that I just want to go stark raving mad so they have to lock me up for an extended stay in the psych ward. Wandering around in my pajamas talking nonsense and checking out from reality sounds really damned appealing right now…

So Many Dreams

J is on my mind so much lately that he has invaded my dreams on a regular basis, when I'm not dreaming about pythons endangering school children (that's a whole different story, not for today, maybe not ever).

I regularly dream about J and me being together.  In all of my dreams, we spend much of our time in bed together... just like real life.  In all of my dreams, he and I are dating and trying to figure out if we will be more than that.  It's a common theme that plays out in different ways in each dream.

Last night's dream had him spending the night with me at my mother's house.  We were trying to be sneaky about it, but he wasn't careful enough the next morning to get out without getting caught.  We were all embarassed, but I said to J after she went back down the hall, "Well, I am over 50 after all.  She's got to know that I have sex sometimes."

W was nowhere to be found in the dream at all.  There was no question from anyone about him.  It was though he just didn't exist in the dream.  That isn't always true in these dreams.  Sometimes W is a factor in the dream.  Sometimes not.

On another note, I worry about J during my waking hours.  The prison where he works is on lockdown due to an inmate murder.  It is so very bad there since they closed the supermax prison and moved a lot of those prisoners to the prison where J works.  They moved some of the officers too, and that hasn't gone well.  Lots of disgruntled officers.  Lots of disgruntled inmates.  It is a volatile combination.  I want J out of there.  He is just a few years from retirement.  I wish he could go ahead and retire early, but even if he could I don't think he would.  Financially, he needs the work in spite of the risks that go with it.

Here We Are Again

Blah, blah, blah…
Yadda, yadda, yadda…

That’s all I hear these days when people speak. I can’t concentrate. I can barely keep myself functioning at a rudimentary level at work. I am really, really struggling to stay afloat with this whole living my life thing. And people, I AM ON MY MEDS. I am not waggling around in the quagmire due to being unmedicated. I am following prescribed dosages and doing what I’m supposed to, and I STILL can’t get myself up out of this depression.

I really hate this. It may be time for a visit to the psychiatrist again to check on the meds and see if something more is needed. I know I’m at the low end of the range on both meds. Maybe a little uppage of the dosage is called for.

Or maybe it is just time to go to bed and stay there… indefinitely.

Thursday Therapy – Agitation

Agitation was the overriding theme of my session with Freud yesterday. I’m sure Freud would’ve realized I was agitated even if I hadn’t mentioned it to him. My body language was full of tells. I repeatedly stretched my arms over my head. I reached for strands of hair and twirled them. I played with the employee badge on the lanyard I was wearing. In summary, I fidgeted through my entire session. This is so unlike me most of the time. Most of the time I sit back and sit still except for occasionally crossing my arms (when we talk about uncomfortable subjects) or reaching for a tissue (when we hit a nerve).

I have felt very agitated ever since I saw J last weekend. I always feel agitated after J and I have been together. I feel like I can’t sit still and yet I don’t know quite what to do with myself. This usually lasts for several days until I somehow get myself back into my comfort zone. I wish I could pinpoint what it is I need to do to get myself there so I could speed the process along. Perhaps the process is one that can’t be hurried though. I don’t know.

 

We discussed my reaction to J’s characterization of me in high school as “promiscuous.” That seems to be at least some of the reason for my agitation this time. J really hit a nerve with that one. Freud said that it didn’t sound to him as though I was promiscuous back then but just a normal adolescent. Let’s say we just have to agree to disagree on that one. Just because I didn’t “go all the way” with anybody in high school, I certainly went pretty far with J and some of the others, Greg particularly. And I certainly was not loyal to my steady boyfriend, J. While I respect Freud’s opinion and get a lot of help from our sessions, this is just one issue he can’t persuade me on. A slut is a slut is a slut whether you physically follow through or not in my book.

 

Freud kept bringing the conversation back around (oh yes, I deflected a whole lot, tried to meander off onto tangents repeatedly) to what it is that I get from my relationship with J that I don’t have in my life otherwise. What gap in my life am I trying to fill with J?

 

What I have identified so far:

•  Physical intimacy – not just sex, even though that’s a part of it, but cuddles and kisses and hand holding and looking each other in the eyes
• Connection to the past and happier, more carefree times
• Camaraderie that is just plain fun, verbally sparring with one another and a sense of playfulness

 Is there more? Maybe…

 

 At one point Freud asked me about W and what keeps me with him.

 

I told him there are two things:

• I don’t know how W would make it without me, and I find it incredibly difficult to take that leap particularly given that his relationship with his grown children is now dead.
• My insecurity about being able to handle things on my own, particularly things like arranging for the multitude of home repairs and maintenance items that are an ongoing part of older home ownership

Could I dump both W and the house? Leave him with the house and walk away from the equity? He couldn’t financially maintain the house on his own. Could we sell the house, split the equity and go our own ways? I hate to do that when the real estate market is still soft. Not to mention the house is a pig sty and to get it in shape to show to potential buyers would be a nightmare.

 

At another point Freud asked me if I’d ever thought about what it might be like to be married to J. I said yes, lots of times. Then he asked did I think that’s what I would want. I blushed and stammered around and finally admitted that yes, I very much think that I want that even though there is massive evidence of why it would not be a good idea. I won’t go through all those here again. I’ve mentioned them in the blog on various occasions.

 

Assignment until the next therapy session: continue to identify unmet needs that I’m trying to fill with my relationship with J and start to think about alternative ways of meeting those needs.

 

Sigh…

Here's a Laugh for You

As I was thinking about the state of me, it dawned on me that from a physical sense I have been completely monogamous with J since the spring of 2010.

Hah!

Now there are several factors that contribute to that:

1. W and I have no physical relationship.  We are completely platonic.
2. When I turned 50 I lost my sex drive entirely for a long time.
3. My one attempt at a hook up a few weeks ago went totally bust.

I would like to think that it reflects a more mature me.  I would like to think that it reflects my devotion to waiting for the right man.  I would like to think maybe it shows a little loyalty to J. I would like to believe those things, but I just don't think they are much of a factor.

Late addendum to this post:
Like an idiot I decided I needed to point out my "faithfulness" to J and sent him a private fb message to that effect.  Can't seem to keep myself from trying to win him over.  WTF is wrong with me?  Seriously... 

Promiscuous? You Must be Joking!

Yesterday’s post was a quick one due to time and location constraints. Today I will elaborate a bit more on the weekend and some of the discussion J and I had.

We were fortunate enough to be able to spend a few hours together both on Friday night and Saturday morning. I made the daring suggestion that he stay in a motel right here in town to maximize the amount of time we could spend together. Although I knew that left open the possibility that someone who knows me might see me I decided taking the chance was worth it. We also went out to dinner together Friday night, again right here in town. I kept an eye out for anyone I might know, but we lucked out and didn’t run into anyone. I had a few ideas in my head regarding cover stories but was glad I didn’t need to use them.

While we were at dinner, we were reminiscing about our high school and college years. Here’s where things got just a little wonky for me. I tend to remember things with a bit of a skew to them, a skew to fit my own self-image and self-story. I suppose many of us do that. Anyway, J challenged my take on reality just a bit when he summarized my personality back then as not at all shy and introverted as I remember but as, of all things, “promiscuous.”

Promiscuous? Me? In high school? I hardly think so! I maintained my virginity, technically, throughout high school. I certainly was not promiscuous! If one used Bill Clinton’s definition of sex I never had sex until late in my freshman year of college. Promiscuous? Ridiculous!

Or was it ridiculous? No, not really. I have a way of using selective memory. If you asked me before, I would have told you I had one boyfriend at a time in high school with some times being boyfriend free altogether. However, J brought up something I had forgotten all about, and then remembered after he reminded me.

At our end of year band banquet (yes, we were both band geeks) my senior year, during the “awards” time they announced the award for band couple of the year. My memory was that it was J and me. His memory, and his is more accurate because I too remember this now that he reminded me, was that it was me & Eddie, me & Greg, me & Randy, and me & J. Now, to be fair J & I started dating Halloween of my senior year (something else I had forgotten until he reminded me) so really Eddie was before J & I got together so I don’t count that one as a bad thing, at least not from the promiscuity angle. The freshman boy dating a senior girl angle: now that is a bad thing and probably explains why we lasted only through a couple of dates, including Homecoming dance. Truth be told, I went out with Eddie because I wanted to go to Homecoming, and he was the only one to ask me.

Now, with Greg and Randy he had a point. I did hang out with both of them more than a girl going steady ought to hang out with other boys and participated in activities a girl ought to only participate in with her steady boyfriend. I never really dated either of them, unless you count cruising and parking as dating. While I thought of myself as “sociable” I can certainly see how it could also rightfully be interpreted as “promiscuous.” Also, I can see how it could be incredibly hurtful to J. I’m surprised in hindsight that he put up with me and my antics. I wouldn’t have if I had been him. I’m also surprised he never called me out on it back then. WTF? I know I interpreted his lack of reaction as tacit approval at the time. I’ve always been one to push the limits to see where the limits are. If you don’t draw a line in the sand I just keep running down the beach.

Putting on the 20/20 hindsight glasses, I realize that as mature as I thought I was back then I was really quite immature. I played very juvenile games, mostly because of my insecurity. I thought I would be lucky to ever have a guy interested in me and so I would just do my utmost to attract as many as possible. Of course, this is not a good plan. The quality of companionship you get when you act desperate is not the kind of companionship you truly desire. The kind of guys who go out with another guy’s girl are not the kind of guys you really want to look forward to a future with, and really I knew that. They were my fun guys. I never considered a future with them the way I did with J. But looking back, how on earth could I expect J to consider a future with me? Why would he want to tether himself to somebody who would blatantly run around on him with other guys right in his face? Sheesh. Stupid kids. Both of us really.

Then there were the college years. I hurt J big time when I told him that I had lost my virginity to another guy. Why did I tell him that when I was home on break the summer after freshman year? It was a misguided attempt to get him to show me he cared. J always kept me off balance, always stayed just aloof enough that I wasn’t ever sure if he really loved me. I realize now that he put up a wall as a type of protection for himself, but to me at the time it seemed as though I loved him so much more than he loved me. I felt like I was always on the verge of losing him, and I would do things (really stupid things) to try to get him to get off the fence and either love me or hate me. And he kept coming back (which should have told me something!) with his aloof indifference.
Only last Friday did he tell me just how hurt he was over all those things I did back then. Only then did I feel like I was way more perpetrator than victim in our relationship. Only then did I start some soul searching, and I am far from finished. On Saturday morning, I apologized to J for my treatment of him back then. I feel that my apology was far less than he deserved, but I’m also not sure what I could ever possibly do to make amends for my treatment of him.

I anticipate this being a big topic of conversation with my therapist on Wednesday.