Ok. Another wedding anniversary. Number 21. Today. I have spoken about it over the last 3 week a bit, actually we have talked about it. What ended up happening is we took the truck in for repair and new tires, C got a haircut and he has a Dr. appointment. Funny , though, he pretended or proclaimed that he "doesn't know why he forgot to " get me a card. He "feels so bad" about not remembering. What I have realized is that he does not listen to me at all. He had several birthdays of his children, grandson and parents in the last 4 weeks. I reminded him of those. he picked out the cards. I got the cash to put in. I addressed and stamped and mailed all of them. But he can not remember one day! And it is not only this day, but my birthday, and even Christmas often goes past without a present from him. I would not mind the x-mas thing except that he expects I will decorate the house for that holiday, inside and out. So, I ask, what is wrong with this picture? Maybe it really is a bunch of crap to even "esteem" these days that celebrate stuff that has to do with my body and its connections.
I am thinking though that I may just make a plan to take a couple days off, away from here. To go get a VERY nice hotel somewhere where I can walk around and enjoy my own company. After all, when I speak I listen to my self. When I think, I listen to my self. When I feel, I feel my self. Yes. I think I am going to go get myself a drum. If I thought I could tolerate it, I would get a tattoo. Maybe I will get myself a ring or a bracelet.
Today, I can barely stand to stay here in this place where I have no friends, where I had to turn my back on his family because of the dysfunctional way they have treated me from the beginning. Also, 3 of my siblings are very unhealthy for me, so I had to change the trajectory of those relationships. There is no place I think of as "home." Certainly not here. But really, not anywhere. No place calls to me. Funny, I do remember times in my life when places DID call my name, DID entice me! But.. no more. Everything is awkward to me. Except when alone, everything is foreign and strange, awkward.
Did my mother choose my name, Barbara? I doubt my father had anything to do with those kinds of things by the time I came around. Barbara means "barbarian, outsider, stranger." So, why not be a stranger to my spouse, to my children ? I certainly was to my mother.
Well, this is it for today. In the grand scheme of things, it is all nonsense anyhow! I am but a speck on a speck on a speck. My while life is but a blip on a blip on a blip. My concerns are but vanities, inside vanities, on top of vanities.
:-)
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Emotion Versus Logic
When emotions are engaged in the brain the logical part of the brain can not function. When the logical part of the brain is engaged, the emotions can not be prominent. My brain can switch back and forth so fast I always have the sense of being out of control in my thinking. This is why I can become so obsessively upset. By allowing the emotional part of my brain to run amuck, giving my power away to those emotions. But this has been my M.O. my entire life. So how do I alter this pattern?
Here are practical steps to take my brain from emotionally prominent to logically prominent as taught me by my beloved counselor :
* As soon as I recognize I'm under the control of emotions I will stop... and describe exactly what is going on..WITH OUT JUDGEMENT! JUST THE FACTS!!
* By describing the events, in steps...1, 2, 3.... abandoning suppositions and judgements... my brain will actually change.
To demonstrate this, she handed me a glass stone from a bowl on the table. She said, "Describe that stone." It was rough on one side, smooth on the other and on the edges. I said ,"it's mis-shappen"... but realized right away that was a judgement. I changed my words to ," not perfectly round."
I am wanting to apply this practice to my daily life. I when I find myself being upset, I want to talk out the facts of the situation... JUST THE FACTS MAM! Let's see how I learn.
One thing, right out of the gate, is owning that I must WANT to abandon my emotional reactions to whatever!!! I must embrace my logical brain!
LOGIC IS MORE HONEST THAN EMOTIONS!!!
I want to embrace honesty!!!!
Here are practical steps to take my brain from emotionally prominent to logically prominent as taught me by my beloved counselor :
* As soon as I recognize I'm under the control of emotions I will stop... and describe exactly what is going on..WITH OUT JUDGEMENT! JUST THE FACTS!!
* By describing the events, in steps...1, 2, 3.... abandoning suppositions and judgements... my brain will actually change.
To demonstrate this, she handed me a glass stone from a bowl on the table. She said, "Describe that stone." It was rough on one side, smooth on the other and on the edges. I said ,"it's mis-shappen"... but realized right away that was a judgement. I changed my words to ," not perfectly round."
I am wanting to apply this practice to my daily life. I when I find myself being upset, I want to talk out the facts of the situation... JUST THE FACTS MAM! Let's see how I learn.
One thing, right out of the gate, is owning that I must WANT to abandon my emotional reactions to whatever!!! I must embrace my logical brain!
LOGIC IS MORE HONEST THAN EMOTIONS!!!
I want to embrace honesty!!!!
Thursday, March 20, 2014
You "will get used to it. "
Wrote an email to a friend today about how I may have to change what I do around the house. But ...you see... this is my job. When I told my significant other that I may need to change how I do things ..do my job. The reply was , "Well, I may not like it, but I'll help."
Had to absorb this. I don't do my job because I like it. AND if I get fired from my job, I don't get unemployment payments. I don't get retirement. In fact, if my significant other retired tomorrow, I would be expected to keep doing all the housework. You know, I think I am just going to do what I want to do, fill it in with a little housework and get used to the mess. I am not spending the rest of my life slaving.
I think I just might run away.
Had to absorb this. I don't do my job because I like it. AND if I get fired from my job, I don't get unemployment payments. I don't get retirement. In fact, if my significant other retired tomorrow, I would be expected to keep doing all the housework. You know, I think I am just going to do what I want to do, fill it in with a little housework and get used to the mess. I am not spending the rest of my life slaving.
I think I just might run away.
Sunday, March 9, 2014
She never had a chance...
She never had a chance. An empath from birth, her trusting child heart exclaimed her experiences.... which were squashed as so much imagination...."Never talk about such things." She turned inward and when saddness emerged she cried and cried unable to bury her broken heart. Then she turned five years old. Her father suddenly died. Someone who should have protected her used her tiny body as a sexual object. She tried to tell her mother, but was treated with distain. "Never say this to anyone!" She would not know who smashed her innocence for 35 years.
She never had a chance. No one ever said,"I love you." "Good job." "How are you?" There was never a word spoken about her father or about what had happened to take away the safety of her childhood bed, to make her nights times of fright.
She never had a chance. She was pretty enough to attract attention that she did not understand. But it sure was nice to be hugged! She was smart enough and deep thinking enouhh to hold her own in conversations with adults. But this made her even more attractive. At the age of 12, a 19 year old man who had been holding her and kissing her for weeks at a friends house, came over in the night. Her mom was at work. He said he loved her. He knew what to do. He took her 'virginity", which in her nieve mind meant he would marry her. The next day he left for basic training for the Marines. She never heard from him again. She could not speak to her mother ; her mother was emotionally absent. Her mother never prepared her in any way for being a woman, about advances of men. She could not tell her friends. She was ONLY 12 YEARS OLD!
She never had a chance. She had become a sexual being, a person who thought her only value was in giving boys sex. She deliberately became pregnant. She wanted a baby to love, to love her, just like her older sister. She became pregnant. Her mother, a nurse, saw the signs before she did! But she never asked why. Her mother never discussed it with her, not like a mother who loves her daughter. Her mother would be 95 years old before her daughter told her why she got pregnant. Her mother always just thought she was 'a bad girl.' That was the story her mother told everyone.
She never had a chance. When she was 37, she was told that she had a measured IQ of 187. She was told at 37 how she "could have been anything she wanted to be! But she chose to be a bad girl. She chose to join a commune, to have children and give them up to a cult that told her she could not properly care for her own kids because of "skin disease." Two of those children would grow up to be severely mentally ill adults. She would carry gulit for her children's suffering to her grave.
She never had a chance. Her health was destroyed by her own mental illness. She would take care of her mother without sibling help for 8 years. Her mother continued to chide her, to tell her she is going to hell, to tell her she is fat, to remind her that she failed her children. Her mother continued to speak ill of her to folks at the nursing home, to extended family, even to her husband. Yet her mother continued to expect her to be at her beck and call.
She never had a chance. Her hair is gray. Her body racked with pain alk the time. Only medicine keeps her from taking her own life. Her few friends don't understand. How could they? It is not fair to expect them to.
She never had a chance. Through all this she kept going back to college. She really wanted a degree. But caring for her special needs son, battling her own demons, her poir health, she could not achieve it. Now at 62 she has one dream, that her high IQ be acknowledged via Mensa...but her brain is fogged by age, medicine, physical damage. She is sad about this. She even prayed, "I never ask You for anything. But today I ask for this one thing. You are the source of all memory, knowledge and forgetfulness. Please let me have this one thing. Give me what I need to be a member of Mensa." But she never had a chance.
No. She never had a snowball's chance in hell. She never had a fucking chance.
She never had a chance. No one ever said,"I love you." "Good job." "How are you?" There was never a word spoken about her father or about what had happened to take away the safety of her childhood bed, to make her nights times of fright.
She never had a chance. She was pretty enough to attract attention that she did not understand. But it sure was nice to be hugged! She was smart enough and deep thinking enouhh to hold her own in conversations with adults. But this made her even more attractive. At the age of 12, a 19 year old man who had been holding her and kissing her for weeks at a friends house, came over in the night. Her mom was at work. He said he loved her. He knew what to do. He took her 'virginity", which in her nieve mind meant he would marry her. The next day he left for basic training for the Marines. She never heard from him again. She could not speak to her mother ; her mother was emotionally absent. Her mother never prepared her in any way for being a woman, about advances of men. She could not tell her friends. She was ONLY 12 YEARS OLD!
She never had a chance. She had become a sexual being, a person who thought her only value was in giving boys sex. She deliberately became pregnant. She wanted a baby to love, to love her, just like her older sister. She became pregnant. Her mother, a nurse, saw the signs before she did! But she never asked why. Her mother never discussed it with her, not like a mother who loves her daughter. Her mother would be 95 years old before her daughter told her why she got pregnant. Her mother always just thought she was 'a bad girl.' That was the story her mother told everyone.
She never had a chance. When she was 37, she was told that she had a measured IQ of 187. She was told at 37 how she "could have been anything she wanted to be! But she chose to be a bad girl. She chose to join a commune, to have children and give them up to a cult that told her she could not properly care for her own kids because of "skin disease." Two of those children would grow up to be severely mentally ill adults. She would carry gulit for her children's suffering to her grave.
She never had a chance. Her health was destroyed by her own mental illness. She would take care of her mother without sibling help for 8 years. Her mother continued to chide her, to tell her she is going to hell, to tell her she is fat, to remind her that she failed her children. Her mother continued to speak ill of her to folks at the nursing home, to extended family, even to her husband. Yet her mother continued to expect her to be at her beck and call.
She never had a chance. Her hair is gray. Her body racked with pain alk the time. Only medicine keeps her from taking her own life. Her few friends don't understand. How could they? It is not fair to expect them to.
She never had a chance. Through all this she kept going back to college. She really wanted a degree. But caring for her special needs son, battling her own demons, her poir health, she could not achieve it. Now at 62 she has one dream, that her high IQ be acknowledged via Mensa...but her brain is fogged by age, medicine, physical damage. She is sad about this. She even prayed, "I never ask You for anything. But today I ask for this one thing. You are the source of all memory, knowledge and forgetfulness. Please let me have this one thing. Give me what I need to be a member of Mensa." But she never had a chance.
No. She never had a snowball's chance in hell. She never had a fucking chance.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
iiwii
She gets in her car, numb, looking straight ahead, seeing everything, focusing on nothing. Her arm does not want to lift the collection of keys. They seem heavy, like a brick in her hand, but that weight comes from the weight of intended journey in front of her.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Thoughts
Some stream of consciousness flowing here because my mind is quite disturbed. I am hungry all the time and way too fast. Injured my foot and have been taking some rx pain med. That may be why my mind is so disturbed. This week I will see my psych doc to ask about getting off Seroquel. Am going to present a plan for gradual weening.
I guess this is all I can write at this time.
I guess this is all I can write at this time.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Can I get free of seroquel?
I found a blog by a gal who wanted to share her experiences getting off the psych drug Seroquel. Many folks contributed to her blog , all at various stages of wrestling with the demon medication. I joined the blog, so there may be a link to it here on my blog somewhere. Week after next I will be seeing my psychiatrist and will be armed with a plan to get weaned off this med ever-so-slowly, like over 18 months.
So much in my life has changed since I started Seroquel. Time to make this change.
So much in my life has changed since I started Seroquel. Time to make this change.
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