grateful

Today, I am grateful…

for having my job. Even though, there are days (like today) when I swear if I ever see another set of blueprints I will scream long and loudly and will continue to do so until said blueprints are removed from my work area!

for my youngest daughter still wanting her mommy to wake her up in the morning and tuck her into bed at night. I love it (and her) so much. She’s 15 now and I know this may change at any moment so when I walk into her bedroom in the morning and watch her sleeping, I say a quick thank you to the universe.

for knowing that February is almost over. Gawd, I hate February.

for the absolutely stunning weather we’re having. It’s blue skies and sunshine and about 60 degrees today. I fear we may end up paying for this lovely weather later however right now, it’s mood lifting to look outside.

for deciding I needed to write this grateful post today because I am determined to find my way through this dark month safely and positively dammit.

for knowing that in three weeks my oldest daughter is taking me to Vegas for 4 days. She’s paid for the entire thing herself and is very, very excited about it. Our first mother-daughter trip as adults. A new frontier I’m thinking.

for my awesome massage therapist. I’ve never been able to stand getting a massage until I met this woman. She’s trained as a physical therapist and I actually get deep tissue work done that has made such a difference for the excrutiating headaches I get.

for being told that I don’t actually have rheumatoid arthritis even though the blood test said I did. Apparently the low level positive can mean other things.

for learning that I have fibromyalgia. It seems there are 18 points on the body that doctors look for when trying to diagnose this particular ‘algia. Apparently if someone has 11 of the 18 points that hurt chronically, the diagnosis is given. Anyone care to guess how many of those I have? Uh huh…18. I don’t care what it’s called. I’m just grateful to know I’m not crazy.

for knowing that my worker’s comp claim will be approved soon. Unless, of course, they come up with another stall tactic. I need surgery for carpel tunnel and have some severe nerve damage in my hands and have known since September that I need this surgery. Is my place of employment in any big hurry to help me? Mmm…not so much.

for friends. I am truly blessed. What a special place to be at this time in my life.

for another opening night. Daughter #3 is a waiter for her school’s production of As You Like It which is being presented in dinner theater fashion. Daughter #2 is doing makeup and hair and we have friends coming with us tonight. The food will suck (it’s been terrible for years!) but the show and the company will be lovely so fun times all around.

for knowing that I will be able to get my ‘baby fix’ soon. A friend is expecting her 3rd baby in April and I called her the other day to say “When are you having that kid? I need to hold a baby!”

for lunch time. It’s now and I’m outta here for awhile.

Have a reasonable day. Peace.

la vida loca

On February 5th, I received an email from an old friend. When I say old friend, I mean, someone who has known me since I was 16 years old. For those who’ve been following along, you’re right if you guessed this friend is one of Jehovah’s Witnesses. I’m posting her email here with identifying details removed. It is not the first email from her in this series. It is the one that helped me along the road to this post however.

I know. I never got internet because of the kids and the expense. As a single  mom, it was not affordable. I have internet at the office so I don’t need the expense at home. I do have a computer at home for the important stuff – WT CD rom and spider solitaire and free cell – so I am covered ( I wish I had emotion faces that people use sometimes cause – I would’ve put a smile after that). any way, I am truly sorry for all the tragedies in your life, both the emotional ones and the spiritual. But, Traci, many years ago, Jehovah saw the good heart condition in you and drew you to him to be a worshipper of him. it is true, unfortunately, that you suffered many abusive situations in the past, and I can understand how difficult it would be to go to hall. Where you live now, would you consider starting over? Traci, over the years, I have never forgotten the spiritually happy and healthy person I met. Have you ever considered that perhaps there is a part of you that longs for the truth and for Jehovah?  I know it will be hard for you to trust anyone again. And in every congregation full of us imperfect messed up people, you will find ones that you won’t or can’t trust but that does not mean that Jehovah is bad or that his organization as a whole is bad. I won’t preach at you, don’t worry – but, please consider going to the hall. One Sunday. Give it a chance. If you don’t like it – walk out – you are not obligated. Our last CO often said that if people don’t want to study with us, don’t force it – we are not here to bring people in the truth kicking and screaming.  Jehovah does not work that way.  Anyway, know that I love you and I won’t bug ya – just consider it. I have to go for now it is 5pm and I need to run to the store and I have book study tonight. Love, C

This woman was one of the best friends I ever had. We met while I was in South Carolina one summer and we carried our friendship through our marriages, children, divorces and everything between all those things. I have missed her for a long time. She had no idea that by sending me this email, she would be triggering several things of a not so healthy nature for me. If I were to tell her about it all, she would be devastated I’m sure.

That same day, I received an email from my cousin, LeAnn, telling me she was thinking of me on the anniversary of my mom’s death and blah, blah, blah. This cousin is also one of Jehovah’s Witnesses and her husband is an elder in their congregation, which is neither here nor there to this story really. The very next day, my friend and soon to be ex cousin, Jenny, delivered all the court papers related to her divorce.

tangent:::I’m not sure what she thought would be the benefit to me reading all of them however she filed for divorce in March of 2006 and her soon to be ex has dragged this thing out for two years and they go to trial next month. Turns out I may have to testify at the trial. WTF? I still don’t quite understand how the divorce of two people with pretty much nothing  other than children can take two freakin’ years and I figure it’s my cousin’s way of trying to control everything but, again, that’s neither here nor there to this story.::: end tangent

Reading those papers was a bit more than I could handle apparently. Added to everything else, it became rapidly apparent that I was a mess. On Sunday evening, the 10th, I ended up cutting on myself. Even in my whacked out state, I knew that was a bad sign. I kept it to myself for 24 hours and then told a dear friend what I’d done. It’s been more than 12 years since my last cutting excursion. Aside from some time last fall when the urge was almost impossible to ignore, I’ve never even thought about it since then. I couldn’t figure out what triggered it all either. I have a fuzzy memory when in this state and while I know what’s going on, to articulate it is beyond me. I was scared.

I didn’t tell my husband, a counselor (I don’t have one remember?), other friends, no one. I just kept it inside, crying periodically, not sleeping, not accomplishing much. Then my husband decided to do something really stupid. It could have ended up being a legal issue (thank you Shari for being so ready to help me…I would have called if he hadn’t dumped the shit) for him and for me I suppose if I hadn’t said something about it. To say I was upset would be an understatement. Finally, a week after cutting myself, I confronted my husband with his stupidity and told him that he needed to get rid of his stupidity or I’d have to do something about it. He was pissed.

I didn’t feel much and didn’t care if he was pissed. Just to make everything clearer, I pulled up my sleeve and showed him my arm. I said “I’ve got enough trouble this week without you being stupid and blah, blah, blah.” To say he was stunned would be an understatement. We talked about my arm and a few other things and I told him that if he ever threw this cutting episode in my face during an argument, we would be finished. I was that worried about it. I’m still worried about it but I don’t have the space in my brain right now to give it much time.

So, that’s it. That’s my crazy, whacked out story for today. I’m holding my own and debating which one of the therapists I’ve interviewed to visit sometime soon. I have to make a choice and take action sooner rather than later obviously. Whatever.

Peace.

*18*

“I haven’t given you any trouble for my entire life. When my sisters were on the floor, kicking and screaming, I was quiet. My dad made me his therapist and then vanished. People have been dying left and right and YES I’m angry. I’ll be angry probably forever. You analyze me and blow off my feelings and I can’t take it anymore!”

So said my 18 year old daughter last night during a, ummm, disagreement we were having. This heartfelt rant began when she came slamming into the house after school while yelling at her younger, 15 year old sister yesterday afternoon.

It seems her little sister had gotten on her last nerve with her “Oh, poor me” attitude about the latest cast list for the Spring Show and her place on said list. The little sister’s attitude about her role in the Spring Show has been annoying to say the least and last night I, too, let her have it however, I digress. This post is about the 18 year old and my feelings about our discussion last night.

For those just tuning in, I have three daughters. To say these daughters have been challenging would be like saying 40 hours of labor to pop out a nine-and-a-half pound baby is challenging. It’s an understatement ok? Work with me here…

I’m not exaggerating when I say that my daughters are extremely intelligent, extremely talented and extremely challenging. People often talk about the issues with raising children who have disabilities of some kind. What I’ve learned in my experience with these girls is that there really ought to be some talk about the issues involved with raising “gifted” children as well. I’m proud of my children most definitely. I love them with a ferocious, mother lion kind of love that continues to stun me in it’s intensity even now more than 21 years after giving birth to that nine-and-a-half pound baby mentioned above.

All that said, I’m tired.

I’m tired of questioning everything I do, everything I say and everything I feel about raising and interacting with these young women. I am tired of having discussions I never would have dreamed of having with my mother with these young women. I am tired of doing the best I can do, learning the best I can learn, giving the best I can give and still not having a fucking clue if I am doing anything well enough.