I got this from my therapist. She suggested that I put a star on a calendar when I meditated. This got me thinking. I like stickers – all kinds of goofy stickers. Continue reading →
(I used to be suicidally depressed but by practicing this attitude for the last 20 years or so, I got turned around.)
Like Looking for Golden Easter Eggs — It’s My Job to Find Them. To load my basket full of these Golden Gems of Happiness. For me, it’s an essential secret ingredient to having a decent life
Then I will make up to you for the years that the swarming locust have eaten. The creeping locust, the stripping locust and the gnawing locust, “You will have plenty to eat and be satisfied
Joel 2:25
This is my life passage. The more I think this way, the more abundant my life has become. It has been my experience that my life’s course is definitely affected by how I think about it.
So I’m doing my darnedest to do a breathing meditation. It’s been 3 weeks so far. I know this because I have a calendar that I’m putting stickers on to mark the days I do it. So far I haven’t missed a single day. I haven’t missed because I don’t want any days on the calendar that don’t have a sticker on them. Tonight I managed to do it at 8:30 pm. I do it for half an hour in my computer chair with an MS Word document up that I can quickly jot down things I need to remember so I don’t have to hold them in my brain. It’s so difficult trying to do this meditation. Up til now my attempts have met with a 100% failure rate. But with the stickers as motivation, it’s finally coming together.
My jaw bone aches. I had a root canal done on it last week and it’s been aching ever since. This tooth had a previous root canal done on it and I’m afraid the endodontist pushed a piece of the previous stuff into my jaw bone. I’m worried that I will have to have surgery and this is a sort of mouth surgery so it might not be covered with our health insurance so we’ll have to foot the entire bill ourselves. Either that or I will have to live with this ache the rest of my life.
I learned a very heavy duty lesson the other day and I thought I’d tell you about it so that maybe some good will come of it. We had a huge scrub pine in our front yard and I wanted to save it but the yard turned out to be so tiny that the tree just didn’t fit so I decided it had to go. This is where it starts to get ‘bad’. I was THINKING and THINKING and THINKING about the tree a few nights ago and came up with a ‘bright idea’. I thought that if I had the excavator pull it out by the roots the roots would take electric and cable lines and water and sewer pipes with it. So I thought to myself “The best thing to do is to just cut it down and not pull it out.” So I TOLD the excavator that that is what I wanted him to do. I didn’t ASK him what HE thought would be the best way to handle the tree. I TOLD him. So he dutifully did what I asked. He cut the thing down. But then – low and behold – I found myself with a stump and a whole passel full of ROOTS dug in, all over my front yard. I should have asked him what he thought the best way to handle the problem would be and not just told him what I wanted. He knows about this stuff – not me. I could have asked him if he thought that pulling it up would take the wires and pipes with it. Yesterday I talked to a stump grinder who told me that 80% of the roots are only a foot down and that the wires and pipes are at least 2 ft with the sewer being 6 – 8 ft down and running along the middle of the street.
J laid into me for touching the air button without asking him first. I didn’t respond to the issue ‘perfectly’ so he gave me a ration. I tried telling him he was having a temper tantrum like a little boy and should grow up but it fell on deaf ears. So I resorted to telling him that when I don’t do things perfectly he goes off on me. What do I do to get him to stop expecting me to be perfect? Maybe just shut up until he’s done? I don’t have a clue but it’s really hard to be laid into when I’m not perfect. I resist. It’s a PTSD trigger. Dad expected me to be perfect too or he beat the shit out of me. I don’t know what to do or how to handle this sort of thing.
Went to the dentist about my bridge in front that just broke (I got the bridge from breaking a front tooth falling from my bike a couple years ago). When it broke it took the tooth that was holding onto the bridge so now I have 2 broken teeth plus the small tooth on the other side holding the bridge that now needs a crown. It will cost $11,355 for 2 implants and 3 crowns. I’m going in on Wednesday to see how much a partial denture will cost and if the implants or partial denture are breakable. This time I’m going with the strongest one. I was going to get a single implant for my one broken tooth back then but it was going to cost $4500. But now that my bridge broke it’s going to cost way more than that. I wish I’d done the implant now. I’m also in for a root canal on a back molar that’s infected and that’s going to cost $1600. We’re in the middle of building a house so we need these bills like a hole in the head.
I really needed to talk to someone but it’s midnight and I don’t want to disturb anyone at such a late hour.
I’ve been reading books by Nancy Napier. She works with self-hypnosis and she knows how to recover from child abuse like no one I’ve ever come in contact with before. I read Recreating Your Self and bought 3 more books by her.
One exercise she suggested was when you’re feeling something disturbing, make your ability to dissociate work for you. Give the disturbing feelings to the child within (who already owns them anyway) so that you can become calm enough to be able to support the child with these out of control feelings.
I was reading “Recreating Your Self” (Nancy Napier) where it talked about (pg 211) children having roles around their parents needs and interaction with each other and I was struck with how I fit into the family. I didn’t have a role to play at all. I only took abuse and shut up about it trying to make myself (though not very successfully) invisible. I didn’t ‘help’ my parents at all. I was not a part of the family at all. I was, and always will be, an outsider. I have a memory that just came up about going with mom on one of her daily walks. It was night and we were passing by the Pendergast’s house. We could see into their front window and watched the family all gathered together for dinner. We were outsiders looking in. For some reason this stuck with me deeply because it demonstrated, in living color, how much of an outsider I really am. Right there, I was an outsider – looking in.
So I meditated today for 30 minutes just so I could put a sticker on my calendar. I’ve had the hardest time knuckling down and mediating. No matter what I do, I just won’t do it for very long. Maybe a few days but then I always find some reason to not do it. It’s about my little girl inside. She’s the one who doesn’t want to meditate – because she thinks it’s boring.
I’m coming face to face with rejection. This thing with rejection is bealing to the surface since my recent move to this small town. I went to a mixed AA meeting with J – one-more-time and one-more-time got the cold shoulder. No one ever comes up to me after a meeting. No one ever. This really gets to me – all this rejection. There’s a guy there that I’ve talked with several times name of Gordon. It seems like every time I try to talk to him I put my foot in my mouth. I was trying to feel him out about maybe him going to my ACA meeting but again, this didn’t go well and he sort of backed away from me. I think I’m just going to stop trying to approach him altogether. In fact, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m going to stop going to mixed meetings altogether too. Maybe just woman’s meetings and even that is sketchy.
It’s not like I need AA or AA people. I have absolutely no desire to drink and no one wants me as a sponsor. I’m not lonely. I don’t need people at all but it’s so weird how the whole world of people rejects me. But I do need people for another reason because I’m reaching out to you. It feels like my self-worth is all tied up in what others think about me and how much they value me. And no one values me – so in my mind it stands to reason that I have no value. And this is hard to take. In fact, no one has ever valued me except maybe J who has stood by me for over 30 years.
I was watching La Femme Niketa tonight and it left me feeling so void inside. The upper echelon treated their (formerly prisoners) agents as if their lives had no value at all. The agents could be killed and no one would bat an eye. I was going to watch another episode but had to turn it off. I just couldn’t watch it any more. Is my life not worth more than a nickel? I’m so messed up right now.
Maybe I’m here on this planet to see I have value even if no other human thinks so. Maybe that’s why all the rejection from birth on. So I could learn this lesson. But I’m sure that those in the heavenly realms want me. But none of my fellow humans do – except maybe you and J. And I feel that even both of you just put up with me.
Last Saturday, my friend gave me the business. She said she wanted us to go to San Diego on a trip. I said “Save your money”. But after hearing this she got very indignant with me. She was she was expecting me to pay for the whole trip myself because she is on disability and has hardly any money. I could hardly believe what she was saying to me but the thing is, I can’t come out and say; “No”. I’ve never been able to say that in my life (because of living with my father who was a malignant narcissist). But this was too much. I got very tongue tied and tried to wangle my way out of it by saying that, though she wasn’t trying to use me, I had a hard time even smelling the idea of being used. What a crock! I thought; “If I go for this, I’m going to get a resentment as big as a house”. I was determined not to do it. She tried to manipulate me through humiliation saying that street people would give the shirts off their backs to help someone else out. She said that she expected me to be ‘better’ after 38 years sober. I squeaked out a response saying; “Your expectations of me are too high”.
I was so extremely freaked out by the whole business that I completely lost my bearings. I lost my Costco card at the gas station; something I’ve never done before with any of my credit cards. My driving was scary and when I went to drop her off, I ran over the curb. She chocked it up to the bipolar disorder (I’m actually schizo-effective) and I didn’t disagree with her. I just couldn’t let the same conversation come up again.
So, when I got home, I wrote her this letter. Here it is:
To continue with the saga of painting. My oh my oh my.
I’ve given up trying to get the right color for our very dark hallway. I was trying to go for a golden yellow color with a hint of green but I kept shooting past the mark. First it was too green and dark, then too yellow. Now it’s too white. I’m mixing cans of paint together and I have about six tints to choose from along with a gallon of pure white.
I’m getting Jerry involved…… FINALLY! I need help!!!!
So I’ve let go of the whole business and turned it over to him. So we put some paint on the walls and the same hew looked like three different colors in three different spots in the hallway. It’s just plain crazy!
I’m going crazy!!!!
Eventually I’m going to have to go to the last ditch resort. I’m going to pray to God to give me some insight about how to proceed. Imagine that, getting God involved. I know he knows the exact color we need. I just have to have faith that he will help.
So far I’ve wasted 4 gallons of very expensive paint and I’m still not getting the color I’m looking for. It’s so frustrating and discouraging. This painting should be left to the experts. I watch Chip and Joanna Gaines of the TV show Fixer Upper. She gets her colors right the very first time. I wonder how long it took her to get to be such a color connoisseur. It’s HARD to do this. How many of you feel the same way. So frustrating – and expensive! So far it’s cost about $200 with nothing to show for it.
I’m sure many people think that verbal abuse isn’t that bad. Those are the people who’ve never been a victim of it. If they’d experienced it, I’m sure they’d be singing a different tune. Being verbally abused feels like getting punched in the face.
I had my EMDR session yesterday with my therapist Cynthia Pickett LCSW.
She said that the EMDR is bringing out my ‘natural’ self which lingered under all the PTSD haze. Before the EMDR, with all the PTSD history I have had, I’ve been mulled in the idea that I deserved no more than abusive behavior. Because of being abused all my life (hated by my father, unbelievably, from the moment of my birth) I have felt like a lower form of human and this self-evaluation led me to think that someone abusing me was ok. With the EMDR, I’m starting to see that being verbally abused is unacceptable. I’m a decent human being and don’t deserve this kind of an abusive relationship.
It feels natural and I seem to be ‘getting it’ down to my core self. I’m a good person and I deserve better than that. I’m even willing to leave my circumstances to be free of it. Something I was totally unwilling to do before this.
It’s fascinating what the EMDR is doing to me. It’s unlike any therapy I ever experienced. With all the talk therapy, nothing much changed in my life. But this EMDR is really shaking things up. FINALLY! I’m moving forward.
A couple of years ago I brought my dog Joshua in for a checkup. The vet looked at his red feet and told me he was chewing them (he has red saliva) because of lack of attention and that I should play with him more.
I had been giving Joshy lots of attention but he just kept chewing.
Then one day, as I was watching him chew furiously, I had a thought. I have athletes foot and it’s miserable. Maybe Joshy does too.
Well the way I keep my problem under control is to pee on my feet in the shower when they start to itch. Urine is great for keeping athletes foot under control (nothing that I know of kills it permanently).
So I decided I’d give this a try with Joshy. I peed in a cup and soaked each foot thoroughly – stretching out his toes to get between them – for 30 seconds or so. Then I shampooed them thoroughly – stretching out his toes – with a skin conditioning shampoo (Joshy has very sensitive skin) to get the salt off.
Voila!!
No more chewing.
I’ve had to reapply this method when he starts in again because there’s no cure for athletes foot. But he has definitely stopped the chewing. And I thought I should let you know about this.
Ps: I don’t remember the name of the vet that told me about his experience with chewing dogs. It was a while ago.
Well Jerry and I had our first ‘break in’ with the new communication technique. He needed a little push to try the new way and I gave him what he needed.
We were talking about the problems with my computer (it was being restored from getting into very bad shape). At first he got frustrated with me but still acted in the old way trying hard not to raise his voice this time. But this isn’t the thing I had requested of him. So I had to instigate the new way by saying; “Honey, you aren’t doing what I asked you to do. Can you please do it the new way?” He immediately got into it – doing the new way I’d asked him to! It went as smooth as butter!!! It’s a new and strange way (to us) to interact so he just needed a little push. I also needed a little courage to take the lead and follow through with what I’d asked. It’s new and strange and so was uncomfortable to instigate at first.
I had to tell him what I needed!!!
It was hard to do but I did it – twice! Once when I wrote it down for him and again when the situation called for it to actually be carried out.
Asking for what I need is soooo hard for me! I don’t think I’ve ever done this as well as I have up to this point. Part of the problem we’ve been having is that I’ve never stated my needs clearly enough to the point where I can get them met. I stated them with both feet firmly planted on the ground. I stood up for myself – TWICE!!!
As far as communication goes, this time it’s going to be my way or the highway.
So we’re in the middle of our kitchen remodel and we’ve come to the back splash. I don’t know any other word to use for this except INSANE! First I had the contractor put up black tile. I thought it was going to look like a good contrast. It turned out to be nothing but oppressive. I couldn’t stand it so I took the tiles off and had to scrape the mortar off the walls.
Then I went back to the tile we were originally going to use. A translucent gray green glass. With it I was going to have a mural put in over the stove. Well, the tile looked great but the mural turned out to be a totally clashing color to the tile. So I had the contractor pull the mural off and, again, I had to scrape all the gunk off the wall. Then I had to buy another mural but I chose 2 to compare and then send the other one back.
Then came the grout!!! Man! I think I went insane on this one. I went with stark white but has a reservation about this color, but I ignored my feeling and went with what the contractor said would look good. But when it got on the tile it was way to bright for the cream colored cabinets and the tan and brown marbled counter top. So, without telling the contractor or my husband Jerry (who I know would have told me no) I started to carve the fresh grout out so I could put another color in instead. But then Jerry and the contractor caught me doing this and both had a total hairy – which I don’t blame them – as I knew I was going INSANE with it all.
All I can say is back splashes are HARD to figure out. I’ve seen so many beautiful kitchens with back splashes that don’t fit in at all. Many, many, many. There are hardly any kitchen pictures with back splashes that fit the overall look of the kitchen.
By the way, I’m not going to use a mural after all. This whole thing is going to give me an ulcer. Also, Jerry said if I try to make any more changes he is going to leave for a month. I don’t blame him.
I had my EMDR therapy today. I’ve been reading this book my therapist gave me called; “The Body Keeps the Score” by Bessel Van Der Kolk, MD (isbn # 9780670785933). It’s an excellent book on different types of therapy for PTSD victims and childhood abuse PTSD victims. I liked it a lot because he doesn’t just circle around the problem. Half the book is devoted to different kinds of therapy to help PTSD sufferers. One of them is EMDR. There’s a whole chapter devoted to it.
Anyway, I was in the middle of the EMDR session when my problem with Jerry’s screaming came up. My therapist said I didn’t have to live with that sort of thing. Well I’ve been living with it for 30 years now but when I got out of the session something broke inside. Suddenly I have the gumption to move out! I’ve been staying for nothing but financial reasons but the light dawned on this. Jerry and I could make it separately financially. With my inheritance, we paid off two houses and rent on out. I could move back to the rental and make Jerry pay me $600 out of his monthly retirement check. Then we’d both be about even money wise. I had a feeling of freedom.
At the same time this was going on in my head another thought popped in. I think this was from God. I need to get a massage therapy credential. I know I would be a good masseuse. My hands are always warm and dry no matter what the temperature is. And I’ve always gotten compliments from people I have given massages to. So that’s what I’m going to do. I looked up massage schools in the area and a very nice one came up. “Milan Institute” right here is town.
I have decided that after my next EMDR session I will sit Jerry down and tell him that he has 30 days to straighten up his act or I’m out of there by the next 30 since we have to give our renters 30 days notice. That’s a total of 60 days.
I want out of here so badly I can taste it. I want to have my own place that I can decorate just how I want. And I want to be a ladies masseuse. I am thinking I will make my home my base of operations and I will only do women. The idea of being in a house all alone with a man gives me the chills. I was raped when I was 22 and have been skittish about men ever since.
I haven’t written anything for a couple of days. Not because there wasn’t anything to write about. My computer broke down and I’m writing on my husband’s. Any way, a lot of water has passed under the bridge since I last wrote.
Jerry had a scream-fest on me – again. He was trying to fix my computer but only seemed to make it worse. I was on the phone with my sister who fixes her own computer herself. She made a suggestion about what a possible solution was but when I took it to Jerry he went berserk. He yelled at me for hours. I tried to yell back a little bit but that got me no where. AlAnon says that I’m just supposed to shine him on when he turns on me like that but I’ve only been able to not get sucked in a couple of times. Usually I try to reason with him, then yell back. We went to bed angry that night.
My sponsor sent me an e-mail telling me that I broke an AlAnon member’s anonymity because I talked to her about her new adventure as a member of AA (she’s sober 60 days). The girl went to my sponsor and said “I guess the cat’s out of the bag”. I feel TERRIBLE about doing this. I tried to call the girl but she didn’t answer the phone. I thought about e-mailing her but then I wondered if anyone else read her e-mails. So I e-mailed my sponsor and told her how terrible I felt about what I did.
I made a little progress with Jerry today. Even the smallest thing triggers both of our PTSD issues. Then we have to fight each other. Well tonight I managed to do something different. I was on the treadmill late. 8 pm – 10 pm. Apparently this didn’t sit well with him and he came into the exercise room and gave me the evil eye. Then he SLAMMED the door shut. I just kept walking and didn’t ‘rise’. When I was done, I came to him in bed and very gently asked; “Why did you slam the door?” He said that I was doing my walking too late and that the TV, which is next to our bedroom, was keeping him awake. So I told him I’d try not to get on the treadmill so late. He said sarcastically; “Try!!??” I didn’t say anything back. The truth of the matter is, I can’t guarantee that it won’t happen again. I’m human. All I can do is try.
For 38 years in 12 Step Program I have been unable to keep up a meditation routine. Today I finally took my sponsor’s direction about meditating. I sat on my loveseat for 5 minutes and not a second longer. I have to find out why I can’t do it after all these years of trying. Now I’m finally ready to take direction!!
Today was an ‘interesting’ day. I just got blown over by an AA ‘friend’, a lively girl named Terrena. I had only been befriending her for a month or so when something came up. She was living in a motel situation and was trying to get a studio apartment. But – low and behold – she was short $275. You can guess the rest I think.
Well I forked up the money for her to get it.
Stupid me. I fell for the oldest trick in the book. She came off as a friend but all she turned out to be was a user. Today we were supposed to get together. She had just gotten paid and told me that when we hooked up, she’d pay me $100 of the $275. Then a funny thing happened. Right in the middle of our phone conversation we got disconnected. But the truth is I think she hung up on me. I tried to call her back about 5 – 6 times but no answer. She didn’t call me back either. She just disappeared of the face of the earth. I was supposed to pick her up for an AA meeting that we always went to. I went to her apartment but she wasn’t there or she didn’t answer the door . It’s all so frustrating!
Did she die? Have a heart attack right in he middle of our phone conversation? That’s a possibility – but I seriously doubt it. She’s only in her mid 50’s.
So there. She’s gone. A stupid AA user. As a general rule, AA people – especially those that frequent Alano clubs – are pathetic and abusive. I don’t have any AA friends. The only reason we were ‘friends’ was because my husband foisted her on me because she was new to the AA scene (she had however 10 years sober). She told him she was bipolar (I’m schizo-effective) so he threw her my way. I swear, if he tries to hook me up with anyone else in AA, I’ll sock him one.
I went to my usual Al Anon meeting after the AA meeting. The topic was Step 4 (made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves). I got to sit next to my sponsor Cheryl which was nice after the episode with Terrena. One of the women shared about the slogan; “You didn’t cause it. You can’t control it. And you can’t cure it.” This is about the alcoholic. But it hit me in the heart about my senior that I have been visiting for the past year. We hit a snag and she went on a starvation kick – I think to get back at me. I have been feeling so guilty about that and I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling until the woman shared this slogan. Something broke inside. I fully and finally accepted this slogan as if it applied to her crazy behavior even though she doesn’t have alcoholism. Her reaction to me was HER CHOICE! and not because of what I had done. All I did was tell her I couldn’t come see her that week. Now she’s in the hospital dying from starvation. The last time I saw her, she looked like a skeleton with skin on. They put her on palliative care. I stopped dropping by because I couldn’t bear to see her die like that. She’s 97 and in perfect health, and I wondered what she was going to die of. Now I know. Death by Stubbornness!!
So my friend and I had a big fight and my head is reeling from it. I don’t do ‘friends’ with people and, to tell you the truth, in 60 years this is the first real friend who I’m starting to try to be real with in my life. That’s how much abuse I’ve had to deal with. I’ve been real with my husband but then we’re like two ships passing in the night with each other. There’s very little of anything between us and, to tell the truth, it’s been that way since we got married. Almost right away, he changed after we got married, but that’s another tale to tell for another time.
I’m reading a very good book by Peter Walker called “C-PTSD From Surviving to Thriving“. (C-PTSD – Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder from childhood abuse). A couple of friends from Al-Anon told me about it and I finally picked it up and am reading it. Fascinating and horrifying at the same time. To put it mildly, it’s hot. He uses words like ‘miserable’, ‘tormenting’, ‘having little use for (a child)’, ‘routinely ridiculed’, ‘minimal nurturing’, ‘dangerous’, ‘bitter’, ‘sarcastic’, ‘parental betrayal’, etc. This man knows about C-PTSD from personal experience and 30 years of working with victims of this condition. The book also contains a lot of ‘solution’, not just description of the ‘problem’ like so many self-help books do.
I copied this from a the website: HERE. (It comes with a neat video too). I stumbled onto this myself a while ago and it really does work. Please copy and spread it around if you will. If we all get together and do it, it could really make a difference with road rage.
Don’t try this in the fast lane. For some reason it makes drivers crazy when you try to do this in the fast lane. He was doing it in the fast lane in the video but I think that was only because it was an exit lane.
***
TRAFFIC “EXPERIMENTS”
AND A CURE FOR WAVES & JAMS
1998 William Beaty Electrical Engineer
My first ‘experiment’: accidentally erasing traffic waves!
I’ve been free of flour/sugar products for over two years and cigarettes for over one and a half years and I haven’t lost any weight at all. It’s been very discouraging to say the least but I think the tide is finally turning regarding the weight. I think God finally had enough of my wining and stepped in to give me a little advice.
I had a spiritual experience a couple of weeks ago about losing this weight. It went something like this.
God: You know how to lose this weight dear. Me: How? God: You know how. Me: No I don’t. God: Yes you do. You’ve done it two times before the in exact same way with complete success.
EXERCISE ! Twenty minutes a day.
God: One time just before you moved to Santa Cruz. And one time while you were in Weight Watchers. It worked like a charm back then and there’s no reason why it won’t work again this time. So… if you really do want to lose this weight… why don’t you…
Get back on the ball.
Well I’ve been doing cardio-exercise (which is what I did before) on the elliptical machine twenty minutes a day since then.
I know I will lose the weight this way. God is right. If I want to lose the weight, I have to exercise. I’ve experienced losing the weight this way two times before. I really do want to lose the weight. Enough so that I don’t have any resentment about doing the exercise anymore. I used to have a big resentment at doing even ten minutes. I’ve always talked myself into this resentment by wining things like…
How come I have to exercise to lose weight and everyone else doesn’t.
But when God talked to me that day, I knew instantly what a load of crap that was. He put on my heart the reality that just about everyone who has a slim figure has to exercise… the same as I would if I wanted a slim figure too. Suddenly, doing twenty minutes a day on the elliptical is a piece of cake. Not only did He give me the information I needed to loose the weight, but He took all my resentment about doing the exercise, away too!
This ride of ‘no addictions or obsessions’ has suddenly transformed itself. Up until now, I’ve been careening at break-neck speed, through the pitch blackness, on a hairy, frightening, roller coaster; being tossed around like a rag-doll, completely out of emotional control. But suddenly, an abrupt change has occurred. Suddenly I’m finding myself in a place of absolute quiet stillness. It feels like I’m riding on a smooth white platform that’s silently and swiftly skimming across the surface of a pale blue, sparkling, glassy sea.
(this may seem hard to do at first but we caught on and I’m as impatient as a 30 second french fry in a fry cooker and my husband is as dense as a raw potato)
CAUTION: This is really, really, really important!! You must read through this entire article… first… maybe several times, in ordered to be fully mentally and emotionally prepared to do this exercise.
The thing is… Fights in a relationship create Fire… and fire has massive power behind it to destroy. You must realize that this is what you are dealing with when you fight. FIRE!! And like with any fire, when you’re handling it, utmost caution must be taken to keep it contained and under control so that it doesn’t incinerate you or your relationship.
I’ve been so angry lately. The little girl is angry. The one who took all the abuse for the rest of us. She’s angrier than all get out. “It’s not fair”, she says about taking the excess food away. “As if trying to live in this world isn’t bad enough for me, now you have to take my food away too?!! What’s next!!? Are you going to try to get rid of me altogether!!?”
It seems I’m on the emotional ‘roller coaster’ again with no idea where I’m going to next. Apparently I haven’t arrived at God’s destination for me as the ride isn’t over yet. I’m so tired of … one… more… time… having to deal with all these uncontrollably, wild feelings!! It’s not bad enough that I have to deal with food addiction; I have to deal with all this child-abuse-PTSD too!!??
(the first post in this series is here: On Being A Social Outcast )
There is a link at the bottom of this post
that will take you to the next post in this series.
I was walking the puppies this morning. I walked past some young boys playing basketball in the park. Noisy. Vigorous. Happy. Whole lives that lay ahead of them. Full of promise. Glowing with youth. Endless realms of opportunity set at their feet. Rich with time.
I’m mourning my life. My old, past-due life.
I’m dismal today. ddiiisssmmmaaalll. This is a warning. Before you read any further. I’m very, very sad today.
What was I put on this planet to do? Recover? Is that all there is for me to do while I’m here? Recover and nothing else? I’ve done nothing with my life. Just recovery. That’s all I’ve ever done with it. Just recover from what was done to me.
Nothing else.
This recovering. It’s a handful. Two handsfull. I have no rest of me to do anything else.
What a dismal, dismal, life I’ve led to now. And there’s nothing in the works for my future. I’m going to be 60 in a couple of months.
I’m glad it’s almost over.
Because I have no purpose for being here. I mean… for what?!
Maybe there’s nothing out there. Maybe all that’s out there is a vacant void of lifeless space. Like the way I’m feeling today. Vacantly void inside.
Is there a God out there? Any life form at all… with a heartbeat? With ears to hear? Maybe I’m just talking to the dirt. Nobody listening. No one out there to hear my sadness. My dismalness.
I'm Michelle. This is my blog. I write about women and fatness, expound upon semi-coherent thoughts I have in the middle of the night, and offer tough love to those in whom I am disappointed; they are legion. I live in Italy, AKA the New Jersey of Europe.