Sweet daughter of mine,
You're are now turning 9,
And you amaze me with each passing day,
So creative and smart,
That's only the start,
Of all of the things I can say,
You write marvelous stories,
With adventure and glory,
Even typing and printing with pride,
From your photos and pictures,
You give us beautiful mixtures,
Of the true artist that you are inside,
In our techno family,
It's no surprise that your savvy,
And learn more with each passing day,
Here this gift I provide,
And with it I'll help guide,
For you to share in your very own way,
So to the point I will get,
As your patience I bet,
Is screaming "ok, just get on with it mom!"
I hope you enjoy,
All the things you can toy,
With your own site at your name dot com!
Happy Birthday!
The website
[herName.com]
is yours!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Friday, November 12, 2010
I took that dream to my therapist, and gave her my interpretation. She challenged me to see deeper about each piece of the dream. The things that stuck out the most, they're all characters, they have meaning even if they are in-animate objects.
Where the dream happened, it has meaning. In that church parking lot I remember listening to my headphones late at night walking around it, looking at the stars, wishing someone cared that I wasn't in the house like I was supposed to be. Where was my mom? Why didn't she care?
The dream started off on broken ground, that I only wished would be more caring. But it didn't help me. It didn't care about me, no matter how sacred I made it in my mind.
Where the dream happened, it has meaning. In that church parking lot I remember listening to my headphones late at night walking around it, looking at the stars, wishing someone cared that I wasn't in the house like I was supposed to be. Where was my mom? Why didn't she care?
The dream started off on broken ground, that I only wished would be more caring. But it didn't help me. It didn't care about me, no matter how sacred I made it in my mind.
Friday, November 05, 2010
Only 6 beers and I'm sick to my stomach at 2:42am, what gives?
When I stopped taking Lexapro years ago I got zaps that gave me a quick out of body type of feeling, and it took me about a yr and a half to get rid of that feeling. I swore I wouldn't take SSRI's or anti-depressants again because of the side effects, but recently tried prozac. Only did it for about a month and then stopped, 20mg, what I thought was a low dose.
Ever since I'd get a couple times a day the out of body spacey feeling that was very sudden and then gone, but none of the sharp zaps from my head down through my body like lexapro withdrawl. Well tonight, when I decided to get beer and as I was going to the store, I felt it a LOT. Write that shit in your medical journals cause I have no idea why, but I'm assuming it was because nerves or parts of my brain that were connecting the way I felt about going and getting the beer had something to do with the nerves that prozac screws with.
When I stopped taking Lexapro years ago I got zaps that gave me a quick out of body type of feeling, and it took me about a yr and a half to get rid of that feeling. I swore I wouldn't take SSRI's or anti-depressants again because of the side effects, but recently tried prozac. Only did it for about a month and then stopped, 20mg, what I thought was a low dose.
Ever since I'd get a couple times a day the out of body spacey feeling that was very sudden and then gone, but none of the sharp zaps from my head down through my body like lexapro withdrawl. Well tonight, when I decided to get beer and as I was going to the store, I felt it a LOT. Write that shit in your medical journals cause I have no idea why, but I'm assuming it was because nerves or parts of my brain that were connecting the way I felt about going and getting the beer had something to do with the nerves that prozac screws with.
Drinking again was inevitable. I didn't even feel like I wanted to, and usually my need comes between 5-10pm, but around a quarter after 10pm I was screwing with a video on the computer, and I just felt like drinking. I've let Noah drink the last couple of days with no problem, I hadn't had a drink since the 23rd of Oct and didn't even crave it until tonight. I told him earlier to go ahead and get himself a six pack, I was cool, cause at the time I really felt like I didn't want it. But after I went and got some beer for me, he just slumped down and seemed to feel guilty.
IT'S NOT HIS FAULT!
I don't even know what to write. We buried the hamster, my sweetheart daughter cried a little bit and told me "I don't want anymore hamsters" cause it was the second one that's died. Broke my heart, but I held her and told her it's okay, we don't have to get anymore hamsters, and if she needs to talk I'm always here.
I have an amazing daughter, a wonderful husband, and a beautiful life, but I'm pulled back into the dark of alcohol no matter how hard I try.
I've scared myself in the last couple of months, with vodka. I blacked out a few times and did some shit that just seemed really weird. It didn't involve anyone else, but the one that really sticks out is me cooking some fucked up food, just mixing shit together and not knowing it until the next day. Later on that day I noticed a huge blister on one of my fingers, I obviously burned the shit out of the finger. Even over a month later it's not fully healed. That scared the hell out of me. I could have burnt down the house. I could have killed my family.
Yet here I am, drinking again. It kept me from drinking for a while, but the difference is that was vodka and I'm drinking beer, so it's better, right? ha
I told my step-dad this story and he said that he stopped drinking vodka when he fell out of that tree he was trimming years ago while drinking and broke his back (see repost below that I apparently reposted when blacked out because I don't remember doing it...ha again!).
Yet even since then I've found small bottles of vodka at his house. Maybe he doesn't drink as much, not nearly. But he still does. Am I fucked forever?
Back in a schedule of seeing my therapist twice a week (once with hubby and once alone). Our last visit with her as a couple was just wow, I realized so much about myself. I freely give myself and my money in hopes that someone will give a shit about me. Glad to know it now but I feel completely stupid. Paying for love. Trying to buy emotional support. How many problems can one fucking person have? I have many.
The therapist was talking about something and I brought up a story I've heard many times from my mom and step-dad, about how one time when I was a baby and they laid me down in a bed. I fell out of the bed and they heard a thump, but I didn't cry. To me it was always a story of strength, at least that's always the way I took it from them.
Noah said that when I told her that story, and when I've said it other times, I have a certain look on my face and my whole body says it. The therapist told me that I learned from an early age that I was alone, I had to fight on my own. She's very, I guess you could say nontraditional. That's why I like her. She's not just another asshole judging me with a notepad in their lap.
We discussed my walls, how I'm a spitfire that knows how to fight because I learned in life that all I have is me. Yet there's this deep need in me for someone to care. She told me later how precious it was when she watched me during that session look back at Noah with sad, sour eyes as if asking "are you still there?"
The only reason I've lost weight is because I've starved myself and slept for days at a time (but congratulated myself for not drinking). Now I'm eating again and I'll probably gain it all back. I'm all extremes, I know no middle.
My step sister gave me a hit of crank 2 weeks ago. Just one hit, that's all that was left on the foil. The taste, the feeling...indescribable. I haven't touched it for 10 years. I was completely unable to tell her "no" or "I don't want it." I'm not rushing out to get more. I don't even know why she did that knowing my past. No one else knows. She made me promise not to tell. I'm scared for my future.
IT'S NOT HIS FAULT!
I don't even know what to write. We buried the hamster, my sweetheart daughter cried a little bit and told me "I don't want anymore hamsters" cause it was the second one that's died. Broke my heart, but I held her and told her it's okay, we don't have to get anymore hamsters, and if she needs to talk I'm always here.
I have an amazing daughter, a wonderful husband, and a beautiful life, but I'm pulled back into the dark of alcohol no matter how hard I try.
I've scared myself in the last couple of months, with vodka. I blacked out a few times and did some shit that just seemed really weird. It didn't involve anyone else, but the one that really sticks out is me cooking some fucked up food, just mixing shit together and not knowing it until the next day. Later on that day I noticed a huge blister on one of my fingers, I obviously burned the shit out of the finger. Even over a month later it's not fully healed. That scared the hell out of me. I could have burnt down the house. I could have killed my family.
Yet here I am, drinking again. It kept me from drinking for a while, but the difference is that was vodka and I'm drinking beer, so it's better, right? ha
I told my step-dad this story and he said that he stopped drinking vodka when he fell out of that tree he was trimming years ago while drinking and broke his back (see repost below that I apparently reposted when blacked out because I don't remember doing it...ha again!).
Yet even since then I've found small bottles of vodka at his house. Maybe he doesn't drink as much, not nearly. But he still does. Am I fucked forever?
Back in a schedule of seeing my therapist twice a week (once with hubby and once alone). Our last visit with her as a couple was just wow, I realized so much about myself. I freely give myself and my money in hopes that someone will give a shit about me. Glad to know it now but I feel completely stupid. Paying for love. Trying to buy emotional support. How many problems can one fucking person have? I have many.
The therapist was talking about something and I brought up a story I've heard many times from my mom and step-dad, about how one time when I was a baby and they laid me down in a bed. I fell out of the bed and they heard a thump, but I didn't cry. To me it was always a story of strength, at least that's always the way I took it from them.
Noah said that when I told her that story, and when I've said it other times, I have a certain look on my face and my whole body says it. The therapist told me that I learned from an early age that I was alone, I had to fight on my own. She's very, I guess you could say nontraditional. That's why I like her. She's not just another asshole judging me with a notepad in their lap.
We discussed my walls, how I'm a spitfire that knows how to fight because I learned in life that all I have is me. Yet there's this deep need in me for someone to care. She told me later how precious it was when she watched me during that session look back at Noah with sad, sour eyes as if asking "are you still there?"
The only reason I've lost weight is because I've starved myself and slept for days at a time (but congratulated myself for not drinking). Now I'm eating again and I'll probably gain it all back. I'm all extremes, I know no middle.
My step sister gave me a hit of crank 2 weeks ago. Just one hit, that's all that was left on the foil. The taste, the feeling...indescribable. I haven't touched it for 10 years. I was completely unable to tell her "no" or "I don't want it." I'm not rushing out to get more. I don't even know why she did that knowing my past. No one else knows. She made me promise not to tell. I'm scared for my future.
Monday, November 01, 2010
The hamster is dead.
My elbow hurts, I started my period, I've spent the last day and a half in bed, and I don't even want to get into the interpretation of the dream in my last post. I've lost 30lbs in the last 2 months from pure starvation and have only exercised on the bike once. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, or is it the day before yesterday since it is now past midnight. I'm not even really hungry. I haven't taken any medications for over a week, except for I think one Ambien that didn't do anything. I haven't drank since the 23rd, nor have I even wanted to. The world feels melancholy and distant.
Friday night was fun. Dressed up with my daughter and went trick or treating. Saturday morning I went on my first airplane ride and it was exhilarating. After lunch everything fell apart. Seems like I'm only allowed to be happy for a little bit before something or someone crushes me back down to the pathetic little creature I am.
I've been watching this stupid show called Ghost Adventures, and in my adrenaline rush from the plane ride my dumb ass says something about going out to where Noah's dad died tragically and seeing if I could get any sorta messages from the other side. I know I couldn't seriously do it, not just because I know Noah would absolutely forbid it, but I'm a complete chicken shit who can't even sleep without a night light. But I was trying to explain to him that (hypothetically) maybe since I'm family I could get something. We have the hard hat his dad was wearing when he died and I brought up taking that out, because in the show they do shit like that, take out things that are attached to the deaths and they believe it brings the spirits out.
We're walking into the store as I'm talking about this to get some gifts for a baby shower and birthday party that are coming up, when Noah blows up and accuses me of using his dad's death for entertainment and I can't even really remember all of what he said because it felt like I had just been blasted in the chest with a baseball bat and sat back in the chair his mother had me sit in so we could "have a talk" right after his dad died.
I'm walking into the store, it's hard to breath, I'm walking fast and angry and dazed with her words floating and distorting all around my head.
"you don't love this family"
"you have a hidden agenda" "there's something wrong with you"
"I don't think you even know how bad you are"
"you need help"
"you are trying to tear our family apart"
and on and on and on. I left immediately that day after the "little chat" with his mother just days after his dad died, punching the steering wheel completely mind fucked because I had no idea why she said these things. It's one thing to say them cause she just lost her husband, and has since poorly apologized over the phone, but I know she really feels this way.
And here I was, Saturday, walking into Target when it felt like my own husband had just done the same thing. As I printed out the gift registry and practically ran through the store just to get the gifts, my mind was swimming in a cesspool of hatred, rage, hurt, sadness, a ripping at the deepest part of my soul.
I drove home dropping him and my daughter off, I couldn't even look at him. I told my daughter I was gonna go shopping for food, but I knew we didn't have any money for that. I just wanted to run away, get away. He wanted to talk about it but I didn't want to hear anymore, I knew if we talked there'd just be more ripping, slashing, words and memories tightening around my neck like a noose.
So I drove and drove, and he kept on texting me. I decided to park next to a river where there was a boat dock. Maybe to calm down, take it all in. I wanted to sleep, to not think. And he just kept on texting and texting. We were supposed to go trick or treating again that night and he said he wanted "to go with us..." so I texted back "...and my bottle of whiskey". I didn't even want to drink, I was just being snide tryin to get him to leave me alone. He asked me where I was and since I couldn't get a good picture of the river where I was parked I drove down the boat ramp and took a picture and sent it to him. He wouldn't stop texting me and I just wanted to be left alone so I turned off my phone.
I find out later when I turn my phone back on that he called my sister (who was going to go with us that night), telling her something about me drinking whiskey and the picture as if I was going to drive into the river. GREAT. So now I'm getting texts from her asking if I'm okay and saying "I really wanted you to be sober tonight". I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO DRINK.
So fuck it, I went home and went to bed. Way too humiliated and pissed off to go trick or treating. Have fun, they could all go on their own and chat away about me just like Noah's family chatted away about how horrible I was after the "little chat" with his mom.
Noah keeps telling me over and over how much he loves me and how it was miss communication and blah blah......hollow. I love him, but I am hurt.
And then tonight he makes some comment about how we need to find something to keep me busy during the day. Oh pathetic little house wife needs a little hobby wobby to keep her busy.
I feel so done with all this right now. I just want to leave. If I leave him my family will all think I'm stupid and crazy because he's a good provider and doesn't beat me. His mom will probably be over joyed. All I can think about is if I did do a legal separation for a while he'll probably find someone else cause little miss wifey who needs a hobby wobby is easily replaceable and he could easily find someone so much better who wouldn't put him through this much pain. Someone who his family will like and so he won't have to feel shunned by them because of me.
I wasn't suicidal before, and not really sure if I am now. I just feel like taking what little savings I have and getting a cheap one room (not one bedroom, one ROOM) apartment and telling everyone to fuck off. Just doing it on my own. Maybe it's some sort of empowerment in my mind instead of thinking about wrapping a rope around my neck or slitting my wrists and smearing the blood all over the walls until I'm so weak from blood loss I can't stand any longer. They have cheap apartments like that around here, 250-300 a month. Work out joint custody of our daughter.
Doing that would probably destroy everything. I'm sure I'd lose him for good and then I probably would kill myself.
But back to the hamster, she's dead, our daughter doesn't know yet and I don't know how to tell her. Definitely not until after school and then she has a dentist appointment so not until after that. The hamster looks like she just curled up in her little house and went to sleep and died. Sometimes that's how I feel. To sleep and not think, anymore, ever, again.
My elbow hurts, I started my period, I've spent the last day and a half in bed, and I don't even want to get into the interpretation of the dream in my last post. I've lost 30lbs in the last 2 months from pure starvation and have only exercised on the bike once. I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, or is it the day before yesterday since it is now past midnight. I'm not even really hungry. I haven't taken any medications for over a week, except for I think one Ambien that didn't do anything. I haven't drank since the 23rd, nor have I even wanted to. The world feels melancholy and distant.
Friday night was fun. Dressed up with my daughter and went trick or treating. Saturday morning I went on my first airplane ride and it was exhilarating. After lunch everything fell apart. Seems like I'm only allowed to be happy for a little bit before something or someone crushes me back down to the pathetic little creature I am.
I've been watching this stupid show called Ghost Adventures, and in my adrenaline rush from the plane ride my dumb ass says something about going out to where Noah's dad died tragically and seeing if I could get any sorta messages from the other side. I know I couldn't seriously do it, not just because I know Noah would absolutely forbid it, but I'm a complete chicken shit who can't even sleep without a night light. But I was trying to explain to him that (hypothetically) maybe since I'm family I could get something. We have the hard hat his dad was wearing when he died and I brought up taking that out, because in the show they do shit like that, take out things that are attached to the deaths and they believe it brings the spirits out.
We're walking into the store as I'm talking about this to get some gifts for a baby shower and birthday party that are coming up, when Noah blows up and accuses me of using his dad's death for entertainment and I can't even really remember all of what he said because it felt like I had just been blasted in the chest with a baseball bat and sat back in the chair his mother had me sit in so we could "have a talk" right after his dad died.
I'm walking into the store, it's hard to breath, I'm walking fast and angry and dazed with her words floating and distorting all around my head.
"you don't love this family"
"you have a hidden agenda" "there's something wrong with you"
"I don't think you even know how bad you are"
"you need help"
"you are trying to tear our family apart"
and on and on and on. I left immediately that day after the "little chat" with his mother just days after his dad died, punching the steering wheel completely mind fucked because I had no idea why she said these things. It's one thing to say them cause she just lost her husband, and has since poorly apologized over the phone, but I know she really feels this way.
And here I was, Saturday, walking into Target when it felt like my own husband had just done the same thing. As I printed out the gift registry and practically ran through the store just to get the gifts, my mind was swimming in a cesspool of hatred, rage, hurt, sadness, a ripping at the deepest part of my soul.
I drove home dropping him and my daughter off, I couldn't even look at him. I told my daughter I was gonna go shopping for food, but I knew we didn't have any money for that. I just wanted to run away, get away. He wanted to talk about it but I didn't want to hear anymore, I knew if we talked there'd just be more ripping, slashing, words and memories tightening around my neck like a noose.
So I drove and drove, and he kept on texting me. I decided to park next to a river where there was a boat dock. Maybe to calm down, take it all in. I wanted to sleep, to not think. And he just kept on texting and texting. We were supposed to go trick or treating again that night and he said he wanted "to go with us..." so I texted back "...and my bottle of whiskey". I didn't even want to drink, I was just being snide tryin to get him to leave me alone. He asked me where I was and since I couldn't get a good picture of the river where I was parked I drove down the boat ramp and took a picture and sent it to him. He wouldn't stop texting me and I just wanted to be left alone so I turned off my phone.
I find out later when I turn my phone back on that he called my sister (who was going to go with us that night), telling her something about me drinking whiskey and the picture as if I was going to drive into the river. GREAT. So now I'm getting texts from her asking if I'm okay and saying "I really wanted you to be sober tonight". I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO DRINK.
So fuck it, I went home and went to bed. Way too humiliated and pissed off to go trick or treating. Have fun, they could all go on their own and chat away about me just like Noah's family chatted away about how horrible I was after the "little chat" with his mom.
Noah keeps telling me over and over how much he loves me and how it was miss communication and blah blah......hollow. I love him, but I am hurt.
And then tonight he makes some comment about how we need to find something to keep me busy during the day. Oh pathetic little house wife needs a little hobby wobby to keep her busy.
I feel so done with all this right now. I just want to leave. If I leave him my family will all think I'm stupid and crazy because he's a good provider and doesn't beat me. His mom will probably be over joyed. All I can think about is if I did do a legal separation for a while he'll probably find someone else cause little miss wifey who needs a hobby wobby is easily replaceable and he could easily find someone so much better who wouldn't put him through this much pain. Someone who his family will like and so he won't have to feel shunned by them because of me.
I wasn't suicidal before, and not really sure if I am now. I just feel like taking what little savings I have and getting a cheap one room (not one bedroom, one ROOM) apartment and telling everyone to fuck off. Just doing it on my own. Maybe it's some sort of empowerment in my mind instead of thinking about wrapping a rope around my neck or slitting my wrists and smearing the blood all over the walls until I'm so weak from blood loss I can't stand any longer. They have cheap apartments like that around here, 250-300 a month. Work out joint custody of our daughter.
Doing that would probably destroy everything. I'm sure I'd lose him for good and then I probably would kill myself.
But back to the hamster, she's dead, our daughter doesn't know yet and I don't know how to tell her. Definitely not until after school and then she has a dentist appointment so not until after that. The hamster looks like she just curled up in her little house and went to sleep and died. Sometimes that's how I feel. To sleep and not think, anymore, ever, again.
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