"With this start, I feel the end of me"
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
When I first seen the movie "Titanic", I was on a leave from treatment for Christmas and my mom, sister, and her soon to be husband went to it the day it opened, December 25th 1997. After 5 months of treatment trying to help me 'get right' and re-realize the beauty in life, I truly had hope for the feeling this movie portrayed being part of my life.
"You're here, there's nothing to fear, and I know that my heart will go on. We'll stay forever this way. You are safe in my heart, and my heart will go on and on."
That is how I want so badly to feel now.
I did a substance abuse assessment today, that went okay overall (the uppity atmosphere and the assessor claiming he could smell alcohol on me even though I haven't drank in 3 days didn't help), but my heart sank worse when my therapist basically told me afterwords that I might have some form of multiple personality disorder.
I need to focus on the former before I can even think of THINKING ABOUT the latter, but I have 13 fucking days of analyzing to do it in (today's date until the day of my intake into the intensive outpatient program).
I slept an hr and a half last night, anxiety ridden worried about the assessment, got through that, told I was possibly even more fucked up then I thought, and now I have 13 days to process it all before substantial help.
I don't say this often but I'm opting for Celine Dion.
"You're here, there's nothing to fear, and I know that my heart will go on. We'll stay forever this way. You are safe in my heart, and my heart will go on and on."
That is how I want so badly to feel now.
I did a substance abuse assessment today, that went okay overall (the uppity atmosphere and the assessor claiming he could smell alcohol on me even though I haven't drank in 3 days didn't help), but my heart sank worse when my therapist basically told me afterwords that I might have some form of multiple personality disorder.
I need to focus on the former before I can even think of THINKING ABOUT the latter, but I have 13 fucking days of analyzing to do it in (today's date until the day of my intake into the intensive outpatient program).
I slept an hr and a half last night, anxiety ridden worried about the assessment, got through that, told I was possibly even more fucked up then I thought, and now I have 13 days to process it all before substantial help.
I don't say this often but I'm opting for Celine Dion.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
I crushed my daughters glitter today as she watched me rip every 'glow in the dark star' and picture of the cosmos off the walls of my bedroom.
She even followed behind me picking up the stars and picking up the "pieces".
I was so angry because the world felt so ugly and cold I didn't want to look at a fantasy of stars anymore.
"Reality isn't always pretty sweetie, sorry."
She looked at me with sympathetic eyes and said "Mom, you're having bad thoughts again".
I ignored her and continued to pull the stars from the wall. I didn't want any sticky tack or sticker or glow in the dark anything to remain. I handed her my blacklight, that she she knew I loved, and she looked at me boldfaced and asked me "why mom?"
Finally, she got sick of my emotional blockage, and she stood at the bottom of my bed and asked "so, did you accomplish your goal?"
I asked her what she meant, thinking she was talking about the stars.
She said, in so many words she didn't just articulate vocally.. "with the bad thoughts, with the bettering yourself, with the stopping of acting crazy, ....just generally, where you are in your life?"
And she looked at me in this way that was so adult and meaningful and intelligent just like she is.
I couldn't refute her. She was right.
My battle with depression and addiction is failing.
I fucking hate the images of my daughter walking behind as I remove all the stars and pictures from the wall and her picking them up and putting them up in her room and saying "but mom, you loved these."
She even followed behind me picking up the stars and picking up the "pieces".
I was so angry because the world felt so ugly and cold I didn't want to look at a fantasy of stars anymore.
"Reality isn't always pretty sweetie, sorry."
She looked at me with sympathetic eyes and said "Mom, you're having bad thoughts again".
I ignored her and continued to pull the stars from the wall. I didn't want any sticky tack or sticker or glow in the dark anything to remain. I handed her my blacklight, that she she knew I loved, and she looked at me boldfaced and asked me "why mom?"
Finally, she got sick of my emotional blockage, and she stood at the bottom of my bed and asked "so, did you accomplish your goal?"
I asked her what she meant, thinking she was talking about the stars.
She said, in so many words she didn't just articulate vocally.. "with the bad thoughts, with the bettering yourself, with the stopping of acting crazy, ....just generally, where you are in your life?"
And she looked at me in this way that was so adult and meaningful and intelligent just like she is.
I couldn't refute her. She was right.
My battle with depression and addiction is failing.
I fucking hate the images of my daughter walking behind as I remove all the stars and pictures from the wall and her picking them up and putting them up in her room and saying "but mom, you loved these."
Monday, January 31, 2011
Reasons why I shouldn't die:
My beautiful, smart, gorgeous and ever so needed daughter that I would never want to put a curse upon that "my mom killed herself."
My husband doesn't deserve two tragic deaths.
I love the two above so much that I can't believe the idea of self-deciding to leave them even crosses my mind.
Reasons why I shouldn't kill myself for myself:
There is a voice inside me that isn't done with being heard yet.
My beautiful, smart, gorgeous and ever so needed daughter that I would never want to put a curse upon that "my mom killed herself."
My husband doesn't deserve two tragic deaths.
I love the two above so much that I can't believe the idea of self-deciding to leave them even crosses my mind.
Reasons why I shouldn't kill myself for myself:
There is a voice inside me that isn't done with being heard yet.
don't let them throw me away
-Korn - Throw me away
A conversation with myself. I need to comfort myself right now.
Maybe if I just knew and trusted myself, this wouldn't be so hard. I wish I did.
how long have I
been in this storm
so overwhelmed by the ocean's shapeless form
water's getting harder to tread
with these waves crashing over my head
if I could just see you
everything will be alright
if I'd see you
the storminess will turn to light
and I will walk on water
and you will catch me if I fall
and I will get lost into your eyes
and everything will be alright
and everything will be alright
-Lifehouse - Storm
Maybe if I just knew and trusted myself, this wouldn't be so hard. I wish I did.
I've been seeing my therapist for about 9 months now. I've learned a LOT about myself, about my boundaries, and about all the different 'modes of being' I've had to be in order to protect myself and stay alive. I'm getting angry, I'm getting hurt, and I'm realizing that there is a rational reason for everything I do.
I'm just scared I'm getting to the point where I'm analyzing too much. Not as if I didn't analyze a lot before, but it's getting to the point where I feel so much tightness in my chest and I fear more panic attacks.
I stand up for myself and then I want to crawl into a whole and die from all the introspection I'm thinking and why did I say that and I can't believe I made them feel that way (of course the way they feel is just something I imagine in my mind from somethings as simple as a facial expression).
Noah told me tonight how much I've hurt him with the things I've said the last few days. I've been in a horrible hole hating everything, wanting to wipe myself out of this world. I've been hurting and hopelessly selfish at the same time.
I don't want to be this way. And while there are things that I do want to talk about with him and that need to be addressed, they should never be the sting on the end of arrow I shoot his way because I'm just wanting someone to hurt.
I'm not sure if all my introspection and anxiety about dealing with my past on top of taking the steps of going to two difficult college classes while trying to stop drinking and at the same time worrying about forcing Noah to stop smoking, is a good time to stop seeing my therapist. I want to stop, I fear that I'm thinking so deep it's holding me back. But what if not going is the worst thing I could do for myself right now?
I made and emphatic promise to Noah tonight that I would stop drinking and he promised to quit smoking. He made it very clear that he was tired of the wishy washy "okay lets quit" and he does and then I change my mind so nonchalantly. He doesn't deserve that.
I want to quit. Have wanted for a long time. Everytime I've told him that we would, I really meant it, and meant to stick to it. But I NEVER DO.
I made this promise tonight and I just KNOW I will fail it. I don't trust myself.
I think I just answered my own question. I can't stop going to my therapist now.
I'm just scared I'm getting to the point where I'm analyzing too much. Not as if I didn't analyze a lot before, but it's getting to the point where I feel so much tightness in my chest and I fear more panic attacks.
I stand up for myself and then I want to crawl into a whole and die from all the introspection I'm thinking and why did I say that and I can't believe I made them feel that way (of course the way they feel is just something I imagine in my mind from somethings as simple as a facial expression).
she's fine, most of the time
she takes her days with a smile
she moves like dancing in light
spinning around to the sound
sometimes she falls down
breathe, just breathe
take the world off your shoulders
and put it on me
breathe, just breathe
let the life that you lead
be all that you need
-Ryan Star - Breathe
Noah told me tonight how much I've hurt him with the things I've said the last few days. I've been in a horrible hole hating everything, wanting to wipe myself out of this world. I've been hurting and hopelessly selfish at the same time.
I don't want to be this way. And while there are things that I do want to talk about with him and that need to be addressed, they should never be the sting on the end of arrow I shoot his way because I'm just wanting someone to hurt.
I'm not sure if all my introspection and anxiety about dealing with my past on top of taking the steps of going to two difficult college classes while trying to stop drinking and at the same time worrying about forcing Noah to stop smoking, is a good time to stop seeing my therapist. I want to stop, I fear that I'm thinking so deep it's holding me back. But what if not going is the worst thing I could do for myself right now?
I made and emphatic promise to Noah tonight that I would stop drinking and he promised to quit smoking. He made it very clear that he was tired of the wishy washy "okay lets quit" and he does and then I change my mind so nonchalantly. He doesn't deserve that.
I want to quit. Have wanted for a long time. Everytime I've told him that we would, I really meant it, and meant to stick to it. But I NEVER DO.
I made this promise tonight and I just KNOW I will fail it. I don't trust myself.
I think I just answered my own question. I can't stop going to my therapist now.
Friday, December 03, 2010
Sunday, November 21, 2010
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!
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!
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.
Monday, October 25, 2010
I had a dream this morning that totally hits home with me emotionally. I'll explain my interpretation later, I have to get some other stuff done but this is cut and pasted from an email explaining the dream to my sister:
So there's this contest type thing happening in the church parking lot at JR's old house, I'm guessing something the Church put on. There were people there but the only ones that I knew or that even mattered in the dream were Noah, Kayla, Cody, and I. There were actually two contests, one had something to do with vehicles but I have no idea what the point of that was, if it was some kind of race around the parking lot or what. Anyways, I had a white older mustang, like the first one I had that you guys went with me to get, except it was pure white.
Well Kayla won the contest, whatever it was, and she did it on a mo-ped of all things.
Then there was this other contest and it involved a dancing contest. Noah and I had to dance like a certain dance, momba or waltz or something. Anyways, right before we did this I realized we hadn't practiced and I had no idea what I was doing. I hurried up and at the last minute put on bright red lipstick hoping that if I looked beautiful it would make things better, but when I looked in the mirror I felt like I looked like a tramp but I had no time to fix it, so we went to dancing. Noah knew what he was doing and I couldn't do it, I was looking like a complete jackass cause he's trying to twirl me and I'm just sorta moving around not knowing what I'm doing. It kinda faded into me not dancing with him anymore and Kayla dancing with him and they won.
There's a hole in the dream but somehow we got to the point where it was like Kayla broke her mo-ped or something, basically they didn't have a car to get home in. I think I sorta made a suggestion that she could borrow the mustang but noah comes right out and completely gives it to her, like she could just own it right out from under me.
At this point I become extremely suicidal. I start running and looking for buildings around the church to jump off of but non of them were tall enough to kill me, and they started chasing me so I ran down the street, like down south union towards mckinley. but you know how things in dreams start to seem surreal and I can remember trying to get away from them by jumping from rooftops on houses to garages and over fences, stuff like that cause I knew they'd catch me on the sidewalk. I found a church with a bunch of water and marble around it. Kinda buddist like, and there was this music and I felt like I could hide in one of the pools of water and listen to the music and be cleansed and saved or either drown myself in the water.
As I noticed that they got closer to me and found me at this church place in the water, I went under the water and held my breath, and I can remember being sorta half awake and actually holding my breath for real, because I could physically feel myself gasping for air even though I was asleep. I gave up on this and ended up on what seemed like 9th street. I kept trying to find cars to walk in front of and get hit and killed by but everyone swerved or were going to slow. I remember a real sensation of not really wanting to die, so it was kind of a half hearted effort to get hit by a car.
At this point they catch up with me or almost and I hear Kayla saying to stop chasing me, I'm just full of shit I'm not going to really kill myself. Acting like I'm just some sort of baby and I'm pathetic and everyone gave up. So I had a knife and I grabbed the knife and in the middle of the street I just started gouging cuts into my wrists, deep down to the bone, you could see the flesh and veins but not a whole lot of blood. I keeps slicing deep all sorts of different directions so I would bleed to death. I don't remember seeing much blood, but I do remember feeling like I was losing consciousness.
I remember paramedics showing up and thats about it, I woke up.
I had set a alarm on my phone for 9:45am (because weatherbug woke me up at 4am and the kitty kept bugging me and I didn't fall back asleep until 7:30, went to bed at about midnight so I knew I needed the extra sleep for the long drive I had to make today). Well, my phone said 9:42, so I closed my eyes thinking I'd just lay there for 3 mins until it went off. Well dumb me set the damn alarm for 9:45 PM instead of AM so it didn't go off and I slept for 10 more minutes. Here's the alternate ending.
I was running from them and I got away and ended up on the north side of des moines around where I used to live off of 6th and Franklin around the time I knew Bobby. He wasn't in the dream, just putting that there in case you don't remember the area. Somehow I acquired a needle or it's like I had one that I had saved or something, and decided that I was going to prostitute myself enough so I could get enough dope to put in this needle and kill myself. So I remember walking up to a bunch of guys like sitting in a yard and I'm telling them I'll suck their dicks for a 1/4 of crank. Well the guy couldn't get the crank, but he could give me money but he didn't want just a normal blow job so I got all slutty and said he could cum all over my face and that I'd suck the cum off him and blah blah...anyways without getting too graphic I was actually really good at it, and I got what I wanted.
A lot of nasty sexual shit happened in that 10 mins that seemed like a lot longer and I ended up at a gas station and I had a girl getting me my crank, a whole bunch of it. I remember getting the crank in my hand, and then my phone buzzed cause noah sent me a text message and it woke me up at 9:52.
So there's this contest type thing happening in the church parking lot at JR's old house, I'm guessing something the Church put on. There were people there but the only ones that I knew or that even mattered in the dream were Noah, Kayla, Cody, and I. There were actually two contests, one had something to do with vehicles but I have no idea what the point of that was, if it was some kind of race around the parking lot or what. Anyways, I had a white older mustang, like the first one I had that you guys went with me to get, except it was pure white.
Well Kayla won the contest, whatever it was, and she did it on a mo-ped of all things.
Then there was this other contest and it involved a dancing contest. Noah and I had to dance like a certain dance, momba or waltz or something. Anyways, right before we did this I realized we hadn't practiced and I had no idea what I was doing. I hurried up and at the last minute put on bright red lipstick hoping that if I looked beautiful it would make things better, but when I looked in the mirror I felt like I looked like a tramp but I had no time to fix it, so we went to dancing. Noah knew what he was doing and I couldn't do it, I was looking like a complete jackass cause he's trying to twirl me and I'm just sorta moving around not knowing what I'm doing. It kinda faded into me not dancing with him anymore and Kayla dancing with him and they won.
There's a hole in the dream but somehow we got to the point where it was like Kayla broke her mo-ped or something, basically they didn't have a car to get home in. I think I sorta made a suggestion that she could borrow the mustang but noah comes right out and completely gives it to her, like she could just own it right out from under me.
At this point I become extremely suicidal. I start running and looking for buildings around the church to jump off of but non of them were tall enough to kill me, and they started chasing me so I ran down the street, like down south union towards mckinley. but you know how things in dreams start to seem surreal and I can remember trying to get away from them by jumping from rooftops on houses to garages and over fences, stuff like that cause I knew they'd catch me on the sidewalk. I found a church with a bunch of water and marble around it. Kinda buddist like, and there was this music and I felt like I could hide in one of the pools of water and listen to the music and be cleansed and saved or either drown myself in the water.
As I noticed that they got closer to me and found me at this church place in the water, I went under the water and held my breath, and I can remember being sorta half awake and actually holding my breath for real, because I could physically feel myself gasping for air even though I was asleep. I gave up on this and ended up on what seemed like 9th street. I kept trying to find cars to walk in front of and get hit and killed by but everyone swerved or were going to slow. I remember a real sensation of not really wanting to die, so it was kind of a half hearted effort to get hit by a car.
At this point they catch up with me or almost and I hear Kayla saying to stop chasing me, I'm just full of shit I'm not going to really kill myself. Acting like I'm just some sort of baby and I'm pathetic and everyone gave up. So I had a knife and I grabbed the knife and in the middle of the street I just started gouging cuts into my wrists, deep down to the bone, you could see the flesh and veins but not a whole lot of blood. I keeps slicing deep all sorts of different directions so I would bleed to death. I don't remember seeing much blood, but I do remember feeling like I was losing consciousness.
I remember paramedics showing up and thats about it, I woke up.
I had set a alarm on my phone for 9:45am (because weatherbug woke me up at 4am and the kitty kept bugging me and I didn't fall back asleep until 7:30, went to bed at about midnight so I knew I needed the extra sleep for the long drive I had to make today). Well, my phone said 9:42, so I closed my eyes thinking I'd just lay there for 3 mins until it went off. Well dumb me set the damn alarm for 9:45 PM instead of AM so it didn't go off and I slept for 10 more minutes. Here's the alternate ending.
I was running from them and I got away and ended up on the north side of des moines around where I used to live off of 6th and Franklin around the time I knew Bobby. He wasn't in the dream, just putting that there in case you don't remember the area. Somehow I acquired a needle or it's like I had one that I had saved or something, and decided that I was going to prostitute myself enough so I could get enough dope to put in this needle and kill myself. So I remember walking up to a bunch of guys like sitting in a yard and I'm telling them I'll suck their dicks for a 1/4 of crank. Well the guy couldn't get the crank, but he could give me money but he didn't want just a normal blow job so I got all slutty and said he could cum all over my face and that I'd suck the cum off him and blah blah...anyways without getting too graphic I was actually really good at it, and I got what I wanted.
A lot of nasty sexual shit happened in that 10 mins that seemed like a lot longer and I ended up at a gas station and I had a girl getting me my crank, a whole bunch of it. I remember getting the crank in my hand, and then my phone buzzed cause noah sent me a text message and it woke me up at 9:52.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
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