Crying is for whimps!

Watching a cheesy Lifetime movie. Watching the woman cry over her humiliation. I never cried except for out of frustration. I left it all there and tried to move on. I wonder if all of that denial is what is eating out my stomach. I stuffed it and stuffed it until I didn't realize that there was anything left to feel. I killed that old self by denial and rejections. Now, I am paying for so many crimes that I commit against myself. But, I continue on with a smile on my face and a song in my heart. Isn't that what a good Christian does? Here, at my parents, I relive my childhood. It is like I'm stuck in a karmic loop. How do I break free? The answer, as cheesy as it may seem is love. Totally selfless love. I don't think anyone has loved me like that except for my mom when I was a baby.

The kids are gone for about 24 hours and I feel this conflict over whether to take advantage of the time and do something productive or to just drink and write poetry the whole time. An old friend came over unexpectedly and we had some really interesting conversations. He told me what it was like for people on speed. He said everyone he has talked to who has done speed has said that they see these shadow people. Which is fascinating to me because I remember a very vivid dream I had once about this shadow man. He was holding me down with his thumb and I couldn't move, or speak. I could only control my eyes. I've had these sorts of dreams before and now know that they have to do with sleep paralysis which makes me wonder if speed affects the same sort of chemicals that are affected during sleep paralysis. Which makes me think more and more that our perception of the world is greatly affected by our brain chemistry.

I remember my ex-husband telling me that he could see music in colors. I've often wondered if he might be schizophrenic, or at the very least bipolar, and his sensory receptors were mixed up. LSD does that also - mixes up the senses. and they used it in the past to treat schizophrenics. I wish I had the money and time to go back to school and become a brain research scientist. Maybe in my next lifetime.

Recurring dream

I have this recurring dream that scares the beejeezus out of me and I had heard about past life regression and wonder if it represents some part of my life. It usually involves a serial killer. The killer is always a man, but not usually the same man. Last night I had a very vivid dream where I ended up meeting two men (they are actually from high school) and I knew right away that they were stalking me. I had this incredibly sick and creepy feeling come over me. I lived in the same neighborhood with them and tried to avoid them and hide from them. At some point in the dream I take a youth group or group of kids on a field trip where we stay at a bed and breakfast. I realize too late that it is run by the killers and that we are all targets, but I can't let on that I know or no one will survive. The rooms were all exposed. In other words, they weren't completely private. I was Jennifer Aniston and I was inspecting these beams that ran from the floor in a slanted sort of way and my eye followed them up to the next room. The beam kept going up into other rooms and it occured to me that this was a way for the killers to watch us. I remember laying in a bed with dark, khaki green sheets and I was in a big, open room and it was so long that it would take me a while to get to the door. In my effort to avoid the killers I kept ending up right in their path. At one point, I walk out of a house and there they are. They put their arms around me like we were old friends and tried to get me to come with them and then I woke up.

These dreams usually involve me hiding in various places from the killer and I usually have my kids or some children that I am trying to hide as well. In the dreams there is usually this house structure that I hide in. From the three most recent dreams there were always some beams. One, I was hiding out under a house that had a pier and beam foundation. In another, it was an old, haunted house (my grandparents) and I hid in the attic or the basement (or both).

I have tried to wake up from these dreams, but can't. I'm usually in a very deep sleep and it is a real effort to pull myself out of them.

There is no place like home. . .

I'm so disappointed about the way things have turned out for me this year. I have definitely made a lot of personal progress, but it seems at times that my living situation trumps all of that. I feel like I haven't really progressed in gaining my freedom, my independence. I find myself stuck again in an oppressive environment when all I want to do is be myself, my true self. I feel like my choices are still dictated by my situation.

The latest blow-up with my step dad has just left me very sad and disheartened. I say blow-up, but really it has been more of an implosion. They (mom and step dad) have not mentioned my email that I wrote (you can read it at the end of this post). I would have thought that at the very least that they would have discounted it by saying that it was not true. I think that is what I really had hoped. I had hoped that my daughter had been exaggerating everything and that he had not really done those things. Their silence speaks loudly and yet, why do I feel like the bad guy? I feel so unwelcome here and all I want is for the girls and I to be a family. I've wanted for so long for our home to be a refuge.

I'm especially angry at my mom. I feel like she has let me down again. First, with the way she handled her divorce and the effect it had on me and my sister and brother and now with this situation. I have lost a lot of respect for her. She and my step dad were so supportive of my divorce, but now while I try to rebuild my life and reclaim my identity they are tearing me down. They seem to have very little faith in me.

I dreaded moving in with my parents when it became apparent that I had to move out of our rental home. I felt this very real sense of impending hardship and heartache, but I had no other options at the time.

Here is the email. I've changed the names to protect the kids.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lila and Violet both told me separately how you grabbed Lila's arm at church last night. This is not the first time she has been hurt. There was also the time that a deep bruise was left on her arm after you pinched her in church. Violet also told me that you raised your hand as if to hit her last night and Lila confirmed it. I am also aware that you hit her the day of Andrew's birthday party. Regardless of their behavior, you have no right to spank or hit or lay hands on my children. We have talked about this before and I am increasingly very concerned about leaving them with you. To that end, and because of the incidences described above, the girls will not be going to church with you and mom anymore until I am confident that they will not be belittled or physically harmed by you. In the future, if something happens that you believe warrants a punishment, you may send them to their room until I can deal with it. I spoke with Violet tonight and addressed the issue of her behavior but regardless of whether or not she was being disrespectful, threatening her physically was disrespectful to her as well as me.

I realize that you and Mom both have sacrificed a lot to help us out and I do appreciate it. I'm doing all that I can to get to a point where we can be self-sufficient. You say you want respect and I agree. As their mother, I am trying to teach the girls respect but feel constantly undermined as a parent and feel my boundaries are violated because you believe you know what is best. This contradiction is teaching the girls that they don't have to listen to me if they choose not to. Is it not obvious how very disrespectful that is to me and the girls? I believe your expectations about how the girls should behave are unrealistic and if you spent time really getting to know my children the way I do, then you would know that Violet acts that way when something isn't right. Instead of stopping to ask her what was bothering her last night or to try to get to the root of it, compliance was demanded. I do not choose to raise my children that way. Although we live in your house, it is still my responsibility to discipline the girls and make decisions about what is best for them.

It saddens me that instead of taking this last year as an opportunity to be a positive role model, the girls are alienated from yet another man which only adds to their insecurities. What the kids need is for someone to build them up, not knock them down a peg. They are very good kids. They are intelligent and compassionate despite their quirks and misbehavior. It seems to me that you ignore their strengths and the unique characteristics that make them the amazing girls that they are. My desire is for you to have a loving relationship with them as their grandfather; but, I feel deeply saddened because I believe it will be a miracle if you have any sort of relationship with them when this is all said and done. Please tell me that's not the legacy you want to leave.

Regret

All of this extra time that I have lately has enabled me to slow down enough to think about the events of the last 3 years. It has been difficult and scary to delve into those thoughts and remember everything. I also start thinking about my future and my heart skips a beat in panic. I feel like I'm stepping off the edge of the earth into the abyss. I then have to remind myself to live in the moment and those panicky feelings are a perfect time to practice staying present. As I sat down to the computer, this piece of paper that I have on my magnet board caught my eye. I had originally printed it out for my daughter, but kept a copy for myself. It says:

It will be fun to succeed, but not the end of the world if I don't.
What lies before me is an opportunity and an adventure, not a problem.
I will aim to do the best that I can. I won't ruin the experience with perfection.
I have as much right as anyone to try my hand at this.
I am embarking without absolute certainty of all the facts and outcomes, and I'm okay.
My focus is on development, not mistakes.
I'm not afraid to risk and fall short because I know that my worth comes from within.
What really, is the worst that could happen?
This could possibly end up being one of the best experiences of my life.
Relax and enjoy the process, glitches and all.

I love all of those statements. Just reading them takes my anxiety level down several notches. I still get hung up on, "What is the worst that could happen?", because I can dream up plenty of tragedies. I think I'll cross that sentence out.

I spent most of the summer getting myself organized (mainly my room). I spent a lot of time and money at IKEA, but I am really happy with the results. It feels very cozy and it is a great place to hide-out. When I was a kid I was always looking for a space of my own. I used to daydream about living in the bottle that Jeannie lived in on "I Dream of Jeannie". I liked the fact that it was so small and cozy and inconspicuous. Not to mention the velvet, plush and circular couch that filled the bottle. http://www.sonypictures.com/tv/shows/sgn/jeannie/bottle.html

I also had a fascination with doll houses because I wanted a space that I could put my stamp on, so to speak. Whenever we went to the hobby store I would spend a lot of time looking at the doll houses and the doll house furniture. I would plan how I would decorate each room and I could completely envision myself living there, like the Incredible Shrinking Woman. I feel like I was preparing my space to make more room for something really wonderful in my life. Now I just have to wait and waiting always makes me second-guess myself. I was re-reading some poems in "Ariel" by Sylvia Plath and I came across one of my favorite poems of hers, "Nick and the Candlestick." She had written is after the birth of her second child, Nick. She was going through a very creative, manic phase of her life and eventually killed herself. It was a very touching tribute to the hope that the birth of her son brought to her. I feel like that is what I was doing with my project. Preparing my life for the birth of something new and life-changing.

Nick and the Candlestick

I am a miner. The light burns blue.
Waxy stalactites
Drip and thicken, tears

The earthen womb
Exudes from its dead boredom.
Black bat airs

Wrap me, raggy shawls,
Cold homicides.
They weld to me like plums.

Old cave of calcium
Icicles, old echoer.
Even the newts are white,

Those holy Joes.
And the fish, the fish -
Christ! they are panes of ice,

A vice of knives,
A piranha
Religion, drinking

Its first communion out of my live toes.
The candle
Gulps and recovers its small altitude,

Its yellows hearten.
O love, how did you get here?
O embryo

Remembering, even in sleep,
Your crossed position.
The blood blooms clean

In you, ruby.
The pain
You wake to is not yours.

Love, love,
I have hung our cave with roses,
With soft rugs -

The last of Victoriana.
Let the stars
Plummet to their dark address,

Let the mercuric
Atoms that cripple drip
Into the terrible well,

You are the one
Solid the spaces lean on, envious.
You are the baby in the barn.

Coming out of the chaos

I guess I'm finally getting the break that I've needed for so long. Life has been so crazy and so full of drama and heartache over the last few years. The only problem is that now I realize how very lonely I am. Instead of shrugging off this feeling, I am trying to embrace it. I'm trying to really let myself feel it and not run away from it by busying myself. That is the primary way that I handled everything: the divorce, the orgasmic fling, the health issues, the career changes, the kids, and the poverty. I just kept plugging along, willing myself forward by finding things to keep me distracted. Friends, partying, flirting, and of course all of my responsibilities as a single mom.

Underneath it all this longing has remained. My christian upbringing led me to believe that this longing was for god, that we all had this god-shaped hole inside of us that only "he" could fill. Now I see it partly as a longing for my true self. I know that sounds very noble and spiritual, but I have to admit the other part of that longing is for true companionship. I've done the online dating thing to try and open myself up to new opportunities and "practice" dating again. I've decided that online dating is like a perpetual interview. It is not reality. Instead, everyone is trying to present themselves as a great catch. They either are desperately trying to find their "soul-mate" or they are looking for free sex. I was more on the friends-with-benefits end of the spectrum. I wasn't necessarily looking for just sex, but I didn't want all the drama and dependence that goes along with a "relationship". I didn't want to have to figure out how to balance a relationship with my responsibilities. I even went so far as putting an ad on Craig's List for a FWB. I got over one hundred responses, but I never followed up on any of them. I guess it was enough for me to know that I could find someone.

I have now decided that I don't want just anyone. . .