Broken Record

I had therapy today - duh, it's Thursday... and we didn't really do the whole work on yourself to bits thing today, it was sorta low keyed and boring, well not really boring just sorta drama-less. And something to note: since going back to therapy this go round I've not cried often, very little in fact, and I think that means something and I'd be disingenuous if I said I didn't know why. I think I know exactly why - I think I'm pretty far into my healing journey and these last few months of therapy have been exactly what I had hoped they would be, a putting it to bed sort of exercise. I do know the rights and wrongs - the head gets it, the heart has been slow to follow... the heart is catching up though, and one day, just perhaps, they'll be in sync. Gasp! Could I, possibly, be on my way to self actualization?!? LOL!

We talked a lot about the kids today. We talked about how their father lives ten minutes away but goes three weeks + in between visits with them. We talked about Thanksgiving and my plans. She says she likes my plan for the day and wishes she could have the same sort of low keyed holiday. I'm really not upset about being alone. I will have some great snacks - really indulgent stuff... and something sinfully sweet to eat too - and an absolutely exceptional bottle of wine. I will watch some of my very favorite Christmas movies and I will enjoy the peace and quite. Not such a bad plan if I do say so...

We talked about Rebecca and how she's been affected by not having her father in her life. She has three pretty good men in her life who really adore her and really provide her with that sense of worth that girls need growing up. Would it be better coming from her dad? Sure it would - but I can't force him to be the kind of father she deserves. I spent many years standing in the divide - many years perpetuating an image of who he should have been for them. It was exhausting... and it didn't work; it just gave him permission to do whatever he wanted and be anywhere but at home. We talked about the conversations the kids and I have had about making choices in their lives concerning their dad and how they have to decide what makes them happy and not worry about how that may affect their father. Examples of impending decisions to make would be Joshua choosing someone besides his dad to be his best man or Rebecca choosing her brother to escort her in the homecoming court. These are things they both feel conflicted about - they don't feel close enough to their dad to ask him for these things. He's not been around, they can't count on him, he's disappointed them time and time again. It is only out of obligation do they even entertain the thought at all. It's not about love, it's not about trust, it's not about respect or admiration. They worry how it will make him feel... and I tell them time and time again, you are not responsible for how he feels. And I always tell them that, in the same token, they aren't responsible for how I feel. The therapist said that was the exactly right thing to be telling them, and she said I need to say it so much they think I'm a broken record.

I've become so immune to the poor pitiful, "I'm just a piece of shit" line that it doesn't register with me anymore... Joshua and Rebecca are a different story. They know intellectually what it all means, I just don't think they feel it yet. I remember when I felt it... when I let go of the responsibility - it was when I knew that if he finally did succeed in killing himself I held no accountability in it. His choices are his choices, always have been, always will be. I know this and what's more I believe it. The kids know it, they have to get to the point where they believe it... it's my responsibility to help them. It would be a wonderful thing to shield our children from all the hurt and ill of the world - kind of a hard thing to do when the hurt and the ill come from someone who is supposed to be shielding them. I can't make it go away, I can't fix it, I can, however, give them the tools to put it all in perspective, even if that involves being the proverbial broken record :-)

Wednesday

It's Veterans Day and I wish to all those who are serving and have served a BIG thank you!

Because it is a state holiday and because I am a state employee, I had the day off! I took Rebecca to school and came home and started laundry, which, I must confess, I am still doing now. My dryer isn't the most efficient appliance in my house and I really should get a new one, but they cost money - lots of money - and Christmas is coming and I really must set a goal of saving for one. I did get a lot accomplished today though - I popped into the grocery store and got dog food, deodorant, and ingredients to make vegetable beef soup for supper tomorrow - and I've put out some bread dough to thaw... I'll bake in the morning while I put all the good stuff in the crock pot to cook all day. With all this wet, windy, fall weather it will be a tasty dinner tomorrow night after a long, long day running around. Whew.

I've not forgotten about Linus and Sally - it's all not quite solidified in my head yet - the dialog between them while sitting in the pumpkin patch is really rather adult... or I should say it's really rather revealing of male/female perceptions. Linus thinks Sally is there because she believes in the Great Pumpkin. Sally is there because she believes in Linus - she wants to be with Linus, she wants to share what's important to him, whether or not she buys into the premise that a Great Pumpkin will come to the most sincere pumpkin patch and reward those who believe. Linus is genuinely surprised when she calls it a "good story" and that's when he makes those assertions about little girls being trusting and innocent.

So... that's as far as I've gotten in the thought process... I think men often times think that women are innocent - that women are incapable of being underhanded and manipulative - and I think that's a mistake. Women all have the ability - we just don't all act on it. And so... I need to think on it a tiny bit more before I finish the thought - it's not a completely negative idea... just all not fully formed... stay with me - we'll come back to it at some point here at the ball.

That's it for today - I'm sleepy as all get outs.... I'll be back... hehehe.

Sunday

I've been at a loss for words lately. I've had lots of thoughts... maybe too many - these thoughts haven't translated into anything concrete, no new postings. I took another nap on this Sunday and for some reason it made me more tired. I watched two movies and did some laundry. Earlier this afternoon I watched a movie called Shopgirl and I just finished watching The Green Mile. Shopgirl was an interesting enough movie - but gee I found it depressing as hell although it wasn't meant to be. Two of the main characters have a relationship - each looking for the same things but unable to find them with each other... love is there, but it's misrepresented... under appreciated perhaps... recognized too late. And while at the end of the movie they've both moved on and are happy, it's bitter sweet:

As Ray Porter watched his Mirabelle walk away... he feels a loss. How is it possible - he thinks. .. to miss a woman whom he kept at a distance so that when she was gone he would not miss her. Only then did he realize how wanting part of her... and not all of her... had hurt them both... and how he cannot justify his actions except that... well... it was life.

And that made me cry.

I'm so tired of that line, that idea - it was life. So much is lost behind that statement. It's such an easy thing to say. But reality is such there is nothing else to say I suppose. There is loss... and more loss... again and again - over and over and it never stops. And God, I just want it to stop. It won't though...

I sat in church today and memories came flooding back. It was 1992 and the decision had been made to have another baby. Joshua was five and we felt pretty secure in where we were, with what we had... the timing felt right. And so it began... I was irregular and that made it hard to determine timing and I think I took a pregnancy test monthly - and this went on for two years... and I wanted that baby - I had waited for that baby - and month after month the opportunity escaped me, slipped through my fingers... and it made me sad.... I would sit in church on Sundays and I would pray - Lord, if it be Your will, please send me the blessing of a baby... Sunday after Sunday I would pray, for over two years... and well, I finally realized that perhaps I was only meant to have the one - Joshua was it, and I was ok with it and I left the possibility behind and I placed the lid back on that box of hope and I said goodbye. This was December of '94. We'd even started taking precautions again. But as you know I did have another baby - I had Rebecca. I had gotten pregnant sometime in November amid a tough bout with bronchitis, a part time job, and three college classes a week. It was her time... it was God's time... it was my time.

I sat in church today remembering that - remembering the prayers and the tears and the feeling of futility and I remembered the feeling of futility surrounding the mental illness and the affairs and the divorce. From this vantage point, however, I see the blessing... I don't want my marriage back, my ex husband - the blessing is I'm free of it all now. I am happier and I'm slowly exorcising the demons and yet... yet I'm missing something. It slips through my fingers at every turn - and I tell myself there is a reason, all in good time - but I'm not sure I believe it anymore. A resigned romantic.

Tomorrow it is my divorcivercary - two years - and this Thanksgiving I will be alone - just for the day mind you... but alone. I've always loved Thanksgiving - the food, family, the atmosphere - and it was always a kick off of sorts in my mind, the arch to walk through on the way to welcoming the whole holiday season - so low keyed compared to Christmas - a moment to savor. I've had to redefine it all now... and I'm still not accustomed to it - and I might never be. I miss the extended family - the smells - the laughter - the tradition. I miss the chaos.

And so I will end this - because I'm losing my focus - and I'm whining - perhaps it's time for bed - and if I'm fortunate I'll experience in my dreams those things missing from my reality - good night all...

The Lighter Side

What a lazy Sunday - but those are the best kind - right? I did get my lazy butt out of bed this morning and went to church... Rebecca went with me too, although I'm not sure she was too thrilled. She had a pissy attitude the whole time we were getting ready and while driving (ten minutes) to our church. On our way home she said she wasn't really upset about going to church but that her brother came in and said, "Rebecca, mom is calling you to get up" and then he went back and crawled into his bed and didn't come to church with us. I got it then... told her next time to go in and harass his behind!

I napped a little today, and read a little today, and watched a movie. Joshua did the dishes! Guess he figured he would atone for not showing for the church service - Jesus might not take it but I sure will (gee I sound sacrilegious today!). All in all it's been a wasted day, but hey, sometimes we need those...

We all know by now how much time Rebecca spends at the dance studio - don't we? I end up there too, waiting - and I do so mostly because the dance studio is in the next town and to drive her there and then drive home just to turn around and pick her up is an expensive deal. So I hang out and I read, or I chat with the other moms, or sometimes I doze... it's down time for me in a way... there is no television, no wireless access, it's down right primitive, but it also forces us to engage in those old timey activities like conversation and boy, do we come up with some good ones - we hear all the latest local gossip, we trade ideas and recipes, we laugh. Last week the funniest thing happened - and I'm not sure it will translate well into a blog entry but I'll give it a shot... I've been working on my Linus/Sally post and it's not quite ready yet so this is gonna have to do...

So last week there are four of us sitting on the couches in the lobby of the studio - doing what we do best - bitching. It's a rainy afternoon... fall is in full swing and while we're sitting in the lobby a boy comes in from outside, a brother to one of the dancers, and he walks up to Tina and he says, "Ms. Tina, do you have a cat?" Tina says, "Sure I do, several" (her daughter had rescued six kittens a few months ago from the side of the road and there are two of them left. A few went to new homes and a few met with an untimely demise). The little boy says, "Do you have a black and white cat?" Tina looks at him a little hesitantly and says, "Yes... I do... we call him Sylvester." He says, "Ms. Tina, there is a black and white cat under your car." Tina says, "Is he dead?" And the little boy says, "Um... no ma'am." Tina says, "Is it mangled?" And well, it's about this time that another mom starts laughing... not sure why but it's infectious and the other mom starts laughing and well... before I realize it I'm sorta laughing too. The little boy cuts his eyes at the other two moms and then slowly cuts them at me... and looks back at Tina and says, "No. He's just sitting there." Tina asks if he's bloody - and that just causes us to laugh a little harder - and the boy looks at us again and says to Tina, "No, he's kinda greasy but not bloody." And you can see it on this kids face - he can't understand why she just doesn't get off the couch and come check on the cat... he can't understand why she's interrogating him instead.

So all this time we've been laughing our asses off, but yet still maintaining a certain sense of control... and Tina takes this moment to add, "Y'all, I've been hearing this funny eee-eee, eee-eee noise all day. I wondered what it was - I guess it was the damn cat!" We lost it - and next thing I know we're all laughing so much we're crying... and if I'd wanted to get up off that couch and go check on the cat I couldn't because I would have wet myself. And all this time the little boy is just standing there... waiting.... looking at us like we're lunatics and wondering when we were going to stop acting so darn stupid and get up and just come and take care of the cat, which Tina finally does after saying, "Y'all don't understand - I've already killed one cat myself! I wonder if I need to take the thing to vet?" She finally does go out - the cat is fine - and she takes it home but not after we've all spent fifteen minutes doing an ab work out by laughing so much! I swear the next day I was so sore!

It's a silly story, I know but y'all it was hilarious - my description does not do it justice. I'm sure it was one of those "you had to be there" moments but I had to share it... write it down if nothing more than to remind myself of these lighter moments. It took me a long time to recognize the potential friendships I had waiting for me... they sure are treasures.

Oh... and just so you (no not you) know...For you

The Circus Freak

I've been going to therapy now for three months. It's been one of the best gifts I've given myself - going back when most people have thought I should be over it by now. I mentioned to the therapist what I'd said in an earlier post about how I should be good at transitions by now, she looked at me, in her "you've got be kidding me" way, and asked why? Of course I said I'd had so many, that I should be used to them by now. But she pointed out that what I've been through has been horrendous - that there is no reason on earth I should be used to any of this. I've tried to describe here in this blog what I've been through - what the dynamics were and how they've affected me and my well being - affected my ability to view myself accurately, and maybe I've not done a good job of that - so it always surprises me some that I look back on all this and end up down playing some of it sometimes and people (therapist, friends...) challenge me on that - say, "Why would you NOT feel that way... why would you NOT think that?" I guess I've always figured no matter what I've had to face, others somewhere have had it worse. (can you tell mom used that whole "there are starving children in Africa line" on us when we were kids?) And it's true, people do deal with worse, I see it in my job almost everyday - but I've got to remind myself that just because it is true doesn't negate what I've had to deal with, what I've had to go through.

In therapy we've talked about a great number of things. We've touched on the relationships I've had, both friendly and romantic, in the last three and a half years. We talked about the ex and his past and present behaviors - about the possibility he has a personality disorder and how I've not made up the mind games that got played - how he did choose a target of blame and hate - and she just happened to be me - the safest one he could find. He couldn't hate his folks, couldn't hate the kids, couldn't really hate himself (part of the whole personality disorder thing) and so, lucky me, I got the winning ticket - and boy did I get repaid in spades! There is such a duel nature to who he is... a war constantly waging in his head - one that drives everything he does. I can recognize all this and put it in the proper prospective - and yet not excuse it. He is not sick but he's not completely well and that's where the line between sympathy and indifference gets blurred for me.

And so I am finally at the point of this post - the meat of the discussion: the circus freak. It surprises me that I've not written about her more than I have but I've touched on her here and here. I've probably downplayed her, but then again that's my way, huh? The therapist and I have talked about her a lot - about who she is, where she came from, why she takes up so much real estate in my head. A few sessions ago the therapist made an observation about her, said if it were a matter of me just wrestling her for control she has no doubt I would have won that fight by now... but she acknowledged there is more to it than that - and so she suggested perhaps instead of trying to banish her to the frozen tundra of Siberia we invite her closer, try and figure out what she wants, what she needs. She also suggested I give her a funny voice - maybe Elmer Fudd... and see if that quiets her influence over my thoughts and feelings some.

Now the circus freak, while she maybe with me always she's not always vocal, so she doesn't always have the strong influence she has at other times. And if I'm being honest, which is sorta the whole point, it might be important to explain how she only really influences one area of my life - whether or not I'm attractive and desirable. She has no bearing on whether or not I think I'm a good parent, or smart, or hardworking, or a good friend, or a kind person - she's all tied up in whether or not I have worth as a woman in regard to my sensuality, my physical attractiveness, my sexual desirability. My ex was able to use this, my Achilles' heel if you will, to do the most damage to me. It's something that's always been a tad bit shaky for me - maybe it is for most people. But my folks, well... it wasn't something that was fostered in my family. I've written about that before - and I've tried to change that for my daughter, tried to plant the seed of self esteem, not only in her physical view of herself but also in her abilities and the innate goodness she possesses. This week she's met a few new people, friends of friends, people I work with, and they come away telling me how bubbly she is, how lovely she is, how polite and well spoken she is - how she's a total package. And yes, that makes me feel good as a mother to hear those things, but it also makes me feel good for her - she is all those things and people see them. What's even more people tell her these things - they also interact with her in ways that say, without words, she is interesting and of worth. The seed has been planted - and now it's being nurtured.

I've digressed, but not really - so here is the circus freak and I'm working with the therapist to figure out what it is she needs, what it is that will put her in a her place and remove her influence over me. I gave her the Elmer Fudd voice and well, it worked! And then something happened, and I was, well, back at square one, sorta... but not really because I stopped and I listened and I did invite her closer, I did make an effort to remove the emotion from it and have a "conversation" with her. I know all this sounds kinda split personality-ish and perhaps you're wondering when I'm going to call myself Sybil and start talking in a different voice and wearing strange clothes. It's ok, I'm good. Really . So we "talked" the 500 lb bearded circus lady freak and me - and the more I listened to her, the more I really took a moment to understand what was going on, I realized she wasn't trying to hurt me as much as she was trying to protect me - what she'd been doing all along was trying to protect me - and somehow it just got turned around and messed up... my inability to let go of her wasn't tied to anything more than my loyalty to her and my pity for her. She did so much to protect me during the pain, so much to "eat" the abuse and disrespect. She stood in front of me and absorbed it all. Her actions weren't wrapped in sympathy and kindess or warmth and love, they were hard and cold, they were raw and ugly, but she was protecting me none the less. Weird I know...

I shared all this with the therapist and she didn't commit me so I guess that's a good sign. It's not over, the circus freak isn't gone - but I don't think that was the point. I don't regard her in the same way now - and of course the issue is far from "fixed" but it's a start - I have a perspective on it now I think. It's not so dark and mysterious anymore, it's workable - daylight has been shed... it's not so scary. Onward and upward, eh?

If It's Tuesday It Must Be Belly Dancing!

Um, yeah, belly dancing - again... that torture I subject myself to once a week... that torture that proves to me I am a white girl with no rhythm and my daughter MUST have been friggin' switched at birth to have the skill and grace she obviously possesses in dance.... yeah - it's Tuesday!

Ok - I dramatize. It's not torture, not entirely - it's fun, really - frustrating but fun. It's just hard to move your body in so many different directions - so hard to disjoint yourself enough to make your chest POP and your hips DROP, and your arms resemble mesmerizing snakes - all while leaning back as far as you can possibly go and making the coins on your skirt jingle - all at the same damn time! Really not an attractive exercise for a half dozen aging mothers to be partaking in - but hey, it is fun - and we do laugh - we laugh hard... which was sorta that point, well that and moving our hinnies in something akin to an organized activity. Bitch, bitch bitch bitch bitch.

Ok - so we get home from dance - Tuesday is an early night - we get home at 7:00 - WOO the HOO! We eat dinner together - the kids and me... my daughter and my son (oh yeah, y'all haven't been formally introduced: Joshua and Rebecca, the blog world - the blog world, Joshua and Rebecca) ... and so I try to have something in the crock pot or something easy to fix so I'm not tempted to do the whole "pick it up on the run" thing... you know the thing that makes us fat and sluggish and just plain unhealthy if we eat it too often... that's Wednesday's dinner. We eat, and then Joshua decides we need to carve a pumpkin 'cause I have three sitting on the porch and hey, guess what comes on tv just as he makes this declaration? Why, you're so right - It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown! At the very exact moment - during the recitation of the most perfectly awesome line ever in cartoondom we paused - and listened - and heard:

"YOU OWE ME RESTITUTION! "

Sheer brilliance!

It was fate I tell ya' - the universe telling us to carve a pumpkin damn it - so we picked a template and Joshua scooped out the guts and Rebecca assisted and now we have a pumpkin - a real live carved Halloween pumpkin! It was all silly and serendipitous (Joshua's word choice).... and, once again, my children make me smile - my children restore me... they fill my heart with love, light and laughter. All the shit, it doesn't really matter at moments like this... yeah, it's all still there... but it doesn't matter - and it feels good....

Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Jeff -

* oh, I've recently been informed that the pumpkin prefers to be called Jeffree (yes that's with two e's on the end)

And as I heard these lines in The Great Pumpkin I realized what a great blog post it might make one day soon. Read, file the idea away folks, you're gonna see it again...

Linus: He'll come here because I have the most sincere pumpkin patch and he respects sincerity.
Sally: Do you really think he will come?
Linus: Tonight the Great Pumpkin will rise out of the pumpkin patch. He flies through the air and brings toys to all the children of the world.
Sally: That's a good story.
Linus: You don't believe the story of the Great Pumpkin? I thought little girls always believed everything that was told to them. I thought little girls were innocent and trusting.
Sally: Welcome to the 20th century!

Transitions

After writing this I reread it and decided it might not make a whole lot of coherent sense but it's ok because it does to me - and for right now I can't quite compartmentalize all that I'm thinking or feeling at the moment and so it comes out jumbled - and I'm going to leave it like this because I really don't have the energy to change it and I really wanted to post it - post something... get it out of me so I can start letting it go -

I'm sitting here, still in bed, Sunday early afternoon. I should be leaving church about now, but I've been a very slack, unmotivated Presbyterian girl, and I realize that actually, the way I'm feeling, is really the absolute perfect time for me to be in church... but I'm not and gee, I'm sure I'm paying some sorta of cost for not doing so - not really that God punishes for such things, 'cause I see a lot of folks living lives that don't involve church attendance and they seem to be livin' perfectly happy content little lives. That's not the point though I'm sure... the point, however, truly escapes me - and it's a pretty sad state to be 43 and have no friggin' idea what is up or down, right or wrong, good or bad. I somehow can't escaped this feeling that I should know by now and I just don't and, well... if I say this please don't call 911 on me, but really, if I don't know right now then what's the point? We'll revisit this in a moment...

The weekend has been a weekend. I had my monthly mani/pedi yesterday. I do love going and I like the idea I'm taking care of my body in a way. The feet are smooth and callous free and my hands don't have hang nails and my nails are neatly symmetrical. A while back, when I was going through the very beginnings of all this divorce stuff people would tell me to do certain things - hang out with girlfriends, get mani/pedis, concentrate on myself, don't have too many male friends... and guess what? I've done all that but still, the same bullshit remains... and what's so funny is that all the folks telling me to do these things, all the folks offering this specific sorta advice, are all folks not doing this sorta stuff themselve! And yeah, don't tell me to go to therapy because HA! if you read this blog you know I'm already there... and I'll talk more about that later too...

So it's the weekend - and yesterday I got my mani/pedi and I prior to that I got ant killer and spread it around on the mounds that have appeared after all the rain. We have these wonderful fire ants down here and gee, well... you don't dare step in a mound because they will bite the fool out of you and leave little whelps all over... which I have a few dozen of on my feet from stepping into a mound two weeks ago. I also picked up BBQ for dinner because Saturday was football day - and well... who wants to cook when you can watch FOOTBALL! So we ate BBQ and we watched the game (go Cocks!). The other big accomplishment of the day was a bit of home repair. For some reason Friday night the light switch in the bathroom broke and would not turn the light off... so I bought a new switch and yesterday afternoon son and I shut off the power to the bathroom (which took a little trial and error.. none of the breakers were labeled) and he replaced the switch. It worked, no one got electrocuted and now the light will shut off and on! I was a little concerned about how I was going to handle that - typically ex did all that sorta stuff (and I will be damned if I called him to help out) and I figured I would have to call someone and then I remembered single dad is an electrical kinda guy and I thought I could call him but then son and I figured we'd give it a try and well... success... we were pretty pleased with ourselves. We tackled it like we've tackled most of these little annoyances: a few jokes, some laughter and a high five afterwards.

For all the shit I've endured - all the loss I've faced - I have the kids - we've worked together - we've figured it out - and if I don't leave them anything in this life at least I leave them a sense of Manifest Destiny... bastardized as it may be... but we've endured and forged ahead, perhaps even divinely inspired - because we know nothing else, we don't give up. While my life may be less than perhaps I want it to be, what sacrifices I've made will help them make their lives more than they could have imagined. There is a formula to life... to living... and I may not have been smart enough, disciplined enough, fortunate enough, to follow that formula, at least my children can... and be better for it. Once the time has passed you can't go back... just best to do it right the first time. I didn't, and I've paid for it. Paid dearly.

But yeah, transitions - they suck... and I don't do them well at all, funny - you'd think I'd had so many I'd be a pro at them by now. I feel like I'm in the middle of a new one and I just got done with the last one and I was hoping for a little status quo before beginning again - but it's not to be. Sometimes I think, best to just let it all go at once... best to just let go of all expectations, all connections - don't look to anyone or anything, because what's the line? Nothing gold can stay? So yeah - it's done. Loss, loss, loss, loss, loss.

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay

And no... if you, you who likes to think of himself as first, reads this - it isn't about you.