loneliness
01.31.05 (2:50 pm) [edit]
i've probably talked here about aloneness and loneliness. i'm not accustomed to feeling lonely and this weekend i remembered why that is. in high school and college i had some close friends with whom i spent a fair amount of time. i was closest with my college roommate, my former english teacher and a dear high school friend. i had boyfriends, some serious and some not so. my inability to open up to boyfriends is legendary, as a matter of fact.
even though i had dear friends and dear boyfriends, i was always aware of being alone. at the heart of all of my interactions with people was the knowledge that i would eventually be going home to my parents' house. i went there alone. i lived there alone. no matter how comforting my friendships were, no matter how much light-hearted fun i managed to have, the road always led back to my home. no one, least of all me, knew what awaited me there on a daily basis. i was certain of one thing, though. as long as i lived there, i was going to suffer. even if the suffering was only because there was no heat in the house. even if the suffering was because there was next to no furniture in the house. generally, i'd say it was an exceptional day when those things were the only sources of my suffering.
in many ways, i experienced my friendships (but especially my boyfriends) as diversions. not only could my friends not help me, but they would never truly understand my experience. i knew how my friends lived. i stayed houses, sometimes overnight and sometimes for extended periods of time. nothing in my friends' lives could provide them with even the slightest understanding of how i was forced to live.
though my living circumstances have changed radically, even now no one knows what it felt like to live through the harshness of my life. no one knows what it feels like to live with the memories of my earlier life. no one knows how those experiences continue to infect my daily existence. in my mind's eye, i am still a solitary figure.
when my therapist asks me if i'm lonely, it's a question i have some difficulty answering. i guess i would counter with, compared to what? compared to when i was 16, i'm definitely less lonely. compared to other people, though, i guess i'm profoundly lonely. my world view isn't one that's shared.
here's the quote of the day:
"The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved." ~ Mother Theresa
america held hostage day 1848
bushism of the day:
"They said this issue wouldn't resignate with the People. They've been proved wrong, it does resignate."
website of the day: Consortiumnews.com
http://www.consortiumnews.com/" title="http://www.consortiumnews.com/" target="_blank"http://www.consortiumnews.com...
even though i had dear friends and dear boyfriends, i was always aware of being alone. at the heart of all of my interactions with people was the knowledge that i would eventually be going home to my parents' house. i went there alone. i lived there alone. no matter how comforting my friendships were, no matter how much light-hearted fun i managed to have, the road always led back to my home. no one, least of all me, knew what awaited me there on a daily basis. i was certain of one thing, though. as long as i lived there, i was going to suffer. even if the suffering was only because there was no heat in the house. even if the suffering was because there was next to no furniture in the house. generally, i'd say it was an exceptional day when those things were the only sources of my suffering.
in many ways, i experienced my friendships (but especially my boyfriends) as diversions. not only could my friends not help me, but they would never truly understand my experience. i knew how my friends lived. i stayed houses, sometimes overnight and sometimes for extended periods of time. nothing in my friends' lives could provide them with even the slightest understanding of how i was forced to live.
though my living circumstances have changed radically, even now no one knows what it felt like to live through the harshness of my life. no one knows what it feels like to live with the memories of my earlier life. no one knows how those experiences continue to infect my daily existence. in my mind's eye, i am still a solitary figure.
when my therapist asks me if i'm lonely, it's a question i have some difficulty answering. i guess i would counter with, compared to what? compared to when i was 16, i'm definitely less lonely. compared to other people, though, i guess i'm profoundly lonely. my world view isn't one that's shared.
here's the quote of the day:
"The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved." ~ Mother Theresa
america held hostage day 1848
bushism of the day:
"They said this issue wouldn't resignate with the People. They've been proved wrong, it does resignate."
website of the day: Consortiumnews.com
http://www.consortiumnews.com/" title="http://www.consortiumnews.com/" target="_blank"http://www.consortiumnews.com...
why am i afraid
01.28.05 (11:22 am) [edit]
i was talking with my mom on the phone last night about the shanley trial, which we've both been watching on courttv. we were both pretty angry at the defense attorney's badgering the victim on the stand for a full 9 hours. i commented that one of the things that made me the most angry was when the attorney asked the victim just how far the priest had inserted his finger into the boy's rectum. my mom was angry about it, too, but for different reasons than mine.
i was angry because the attorney was implying that just because the victim couldn't come up with the number, it must not have happened. i know from personal experience that that is exactly the kind of thing to which a victim will not have access. the actual abuse can be very fragmented in memory because the victim has generally gone somewhere else in his/her head to escape from the things that are being done to him or her. i remember staring at the ceiling. what magnificent concentration i maintained. i do not know specifically what was done to me, but i do know that it was unbearable.
my mom, of course, doesn't know these things. i found myself thinking about explaining to her, but then i stopped. i couldn't bring myself to talk about it with her. why. i'm not sure whether it's protection for me or for her. i think there's some belief hidden under the layers of consciousness that it's my fault. it's always been my fault...didn't my abuser tell me so? didn't i believe it?
a similar thing happened when i was talking to my daughter in law this past week. i started to explain the concept of post traumatic stress disorder, but then it dawned on me that i'd probably have to explain how i came to have that problem. i couldn't bring myself to share any of the reasons. why. why. i don't know.
it's so painful for me to even contemplate the reasons behind those decisions. the thought of sharing these memories--any part of them--fills me with anxiety. i can feel my hands go icy cold.
i was angry because the attorney was implying that just because the victim couldn't come up with the number, it must not have happened. i know from personal experience that that is exactly the kind of thing to which a victim will not have access. the actual abuse can be very fragmented in memory because the victim has generally gone somewhere else in his/her head to escape from the things that are being done to him or her. i remember staring at the ceiling. what magnificent concentration i maintained. i do not know specifically what was done to me, but i do know that it was unbearable.
my mom, of course, doesn't know these things. i found myself thinking about explaining to her, but then i stopped. i couldn't bring myself to talk about it with her. why. i'm not sure whether it's protection for me or for her. i think there's some belief hidden under the layers of consciousness that it's my fault. it's always been my fault...didn't my abuser tell me so? didn't i believe it?
a similar thing happened when i was talking to my daughter in law this past week. i started to explain the concept of post traumatic stress disorder, but then it dawned on me that i'd probably have to explain how i came to have that problem. i couldn't bring myself to share any of the reasons. why. why. i don't know.
it's so painful for me to even contemplate the reasons behind those decisions. the thought of sharing these memories--any part of them--fills me with anxiety. i can feel my hands go icy cold.
paul shanley
01.26.05 (3:06 pm) [edit]
i've spent the majority of the day listening to the trial of the former roman catholic priest paul shanley's criminal sexual assulat trial. i've been working on a database on my computer, where the trial is being broadcast. i haven't watched much of the video, but whenever i do and see the former priest, sitting there as if he hadn't ruined people's lives, i just want to ask him if he really believes in god.
i'm not of the mindset that god punishes us for our sins. i'm not even completely sure that all of the bad things that happen to us in our lives aren't supposed to happen. i can't pretend to know what is in god's mind. however, i do know that sexually abusing little children causes enormous harm for the rest of their lives. it's difficult to determine whether this man is really sorry in the slightest bit. i'm certain that he's sorry he got caught. i wonder, as he watches his victim testify, does he harden his heart against the victim?
i know that most abusers blame the child. the child was too provacative. he couldn't help himself, the child was too flirtatious and took advantage of the adult. it's so much easier than having to admit that you have sentenced someone to live a life significantly devoid of trust in other human beings. if mr. shanley was abused himself, he must already know the consequences of abuse. how, then, could he harm another little child in that way?
last night i was watching an episode of law and order in which there was a murder related to a whole series of sexual assaults against several children. there was one scene where the father of a child was sitting on a sofa, the child on the floor beside him, playing with a toy. the father suggests to the boy that he sit on the sofa where he'll be more comfortable. at that moment, it was like being five again for me. i wanted to go get a knife, find my uncle, and rip him to shreds. i want him to suffer every single moment of every day of his life. i'd be surprised if he does. i really believe that people who can hurt children that way don't have much empathy for anyone. they are, of course, pretty sorry for themselves.
shortly after that program ended, there was a local newscast which has been doing a series of segments about depression. last night's topic was electroshock therapy. i was talking on the phone with my mom, but i managed to hear just a bit of it. that bit was about how tragic the lives are of people who are unable to escape depression any other way. it was one of those moments in which i was forced to look at the truth again. i wouldn't say my life has been tragic, but when i think about it in the context of how other people have grown up, i can't really find a word to describe my life. unhappy is an understatement. i'm reluctant to latch onto tragic, though. i guess that's too reminiscent of the mindset of all of my abusers. they all had tragic lives. that's why it was okay that they hurt other people. it was even okay to hurt defenseless children.
i know that accepting the truth of severe abuse doesn't make me like them. but now i can't think of anything else to say. i just had one of those dissociative moments when i cease to feel and can't really even maintain my train of thought. i guess i might as well find a quote.
quote of the day;
"The cosmos is neither moral or immoral; only people are. He who would move the world must first move himself." ~Edward Ericson
america held hostage day 1844
bushism of the day:
"It's clearly a budget. It's got a lot of numbers in it."
website of the day: Disgruntled Housewife
http://www.disgruntledhousewife.com/" title="http://www.disgruntledhousewife.com/" target="_blank"http://www.disgruntledhousewi...
i'm not of the mindset that god punishes us for our sins. i'm not even completely sure that all of the bad things that happen to us in our lives aren't supposed to happen. i can't pretend to know what is in god's mind. however, i do know that sexually abusing little children causes enormous harm for the rest of their lives. it's difficult to determine whether this man is really sorry in the slightest bit. i'm certain that he's sorry he got caught. i wonder, as he watches his victim testify, does he harden his heart against the victim?
i know that most abusers blame the child. the child was too provacative. he couldn't help himself, the child was too flirtatious and took advantage of the adult. it's so much easier than having to admit that you have sentenced someone to live a life significantly devoid of trust in other human beings. if mr. shanley was abused himself, he must already know the consequences of abuse. how, then, could he harm another little child in that way?
last night i was watching an episode of law and order in which there was a murder related to a whole series of sexual assaults against several children. there was one scene where the father of a child was sitting on a sofa, the child on the floor beside him, playing with a toy. the father suggests to the boy that he sit on the sofa where he'll be more comfortable. at that moment, it was like being five again for me. i wanted to go get a knife, find my uncle, and rip him to shreds. i want him to suffer every single moment of every day of his life. i'd be surprised if he does. i really believe that people who can hurt children that way don't have much empathy for anyone. they are, of course, pretty sorry for themselves.
shortly after that program ended, there was a local newscast which has been doing a series of segments about depression. last night's topic was electroshock therapy. i was talking on the phone with my mom, but i managed to hear just a bit of it. that bit was about how tragic the lives are of people who are unable to escape depression any other way. it was one of those moments in which i was forced to look at the truth again. i wouldn't say my life has been tragic, but when i think about it in the context of how other people have grown up, i can't really find a word to describe my life. unhappy is an understatement. i'm reluctant to latch onto tragic, though. i guess that's too reminiscent of the mindset of all of my abusers. they all had tragic lives. that's why it was okay that they hurt other people. it was even okay to hurt defenseless children.
i know that accepting the truth of severe abuse doesn't make me like them. but now i can't think of anything else to say. i just had one of those dissociative moments when i cease to feel and can't really even maintain my train of thought. i guess i might as well find a quote.
quote of the day;
"The cosmos is neither moral or immoral; only people are. He who would move the world must first move himself." ~Edward Ericson
america held hostage day 1844
bushism of the day:
"It's clearly a budget. It's got a lot of numbers in it."
website of the day: Disgruntled Housewife
http://www.disgruntledhousewife.com/" title="http://www.disgruntledhousewife.com/" target="_blank"http://www.disgruntledhousewi...
change your mind
01.24.05 (2:08 pm) [edit]
i suffered through an allergy meltdown all weekend and lost a fair amount of sleep because of some creature gnawing away somewhere in or adjacent to my bedroom. this morning, as i pushed myself forward into the day, taking care of my responsibilities to huskies and hubby, i was aware of a low-level dissatisfaction. it's times like this that i remember that the reality we all share can be dramatically altered or restructured. we have only to change our minds.
what exactly is it that causes us to believe that we must get up every day and go to jobs which we may or may not find intellectually compelling or unsuitable for any number of reasons? because that's the way it's been done in recent history? because that's the way it's been done in our specific culture?
all we have to do is change our minds. change our minds about what's valuable in life. change our minds about how we will treat one another. we can eliminate the staggering debt loads of "third-world" countries simplly by deciding that the debt no longer exists. the debts of all nations could be eliminated by decided it should be so. we could conceivably find far more meaningful ways than our current jobs to spend our brief time here. we just need to change our minds.
of course, once we get into the realm of religion, it gets very difficult to advocate changing one's mind. one of the primary jobs of religion is to provide us with some clearcut guidelines for individual behavior. having bought into those guidelines, we find it unbearably difficult to see things in a new way. many times, we're unable to recognize that which is holy in one another because the other isn't adhering to our specific (and sometimes nit-picky) guidelines. we could see it another way, if we wished. we could choose to search for commonality instead of focusing on our differences. just takes a change of heart and a change of mind.
here's the quote of the day:
"The universe is transformation; our life is what our thoughts make it."~Marcus Aurelius
america held hostage day 1841
bushism of the day:
"This administration is doing everything we can to end the stalemate in an efficient way. We're making the right decisions to bring the solution to an end."
website of the day: The Butterfly Website
http://butterflywebsite.com/organicgardening.cfm" title="http://butterflywebsite.com/organicgardening.cfm" target="_blank"http://butterflywebsite.com/o...
what exactly is it that causes us to believe that we must get up every day and go to jobs which we may or may not find intellectually compelling or unsuitable for any number of reasons? because that's the way it's been done in recent history? because that's the way it's been done in our specific culture?
all we have to do is change our minds. change our minds about what's valuable in life. change our minds about how we will treat one another. we can eliminate the staggering debt loads of "third-world" countries simplly by deciding that the debt no longer exists. the debts of all nations could be eliminated by decided it should be so. we could conceivably find far more meaningful ways than our current jobs to spend our brief time here. we just need to change our minds.
of course, once we get into the realm of religion, it gets very difficult to advocate changing one's mind. one of the primary jobs of religion is to provide us with some clearcut guidelines for individual behavior. having bought into those guidelines, we find it unbearably difficult to see things in a new way. many times, we're unable to recognize that which is holy in one another because the other isn't adhering to our specific (and sometimes nit-picky) guidelines. we could see it another way, if we wished. we could choose to search for commonality instead of focusing on our differences. just takes a change of heart and a change of mind.
here's the quote of the day:
"The universe is transformation; our life is what our thoughts make it."~Marcus Aurelius
america held hostage day 1841
bushism of the day:
"This administration is doing everything we can to end the stalemate in an efficient way. We're making the right decisions to bring the solution to an end."
website of the day: The Butterfly Website
http://butterflywebsite.com/organicgardening.cfm" title="http://butterflywebsite.com/organicgardening.cfm" target="_blank"http://butterflywebsite.com/o...
black thursday
01.20.05 (1:57 pm) [edit]
today we officially enter into another four years with bush. it's a bleak prospect. he's already fucked up a number of things beyond repair--at least for the remainder of my life time. i loathe him even more than i once loathed dick nixon. he's arrogant, willfully and proudly ignorant, smug, self-righteous. i've basically given up even watching the news in order to spare my blood pressure. i'd rather not have a bush-related stroke.
today, in honor of of black thursday, i'll focus on bushisms.
america held hostage day 1837
"One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures."
"It's clearly a budget. It's got a lot of numbers in it."
"If you don't stand for anything, you don't stand for anything!"
"A surplus means there'll be money left over. Otherwise, it wouldn't be called a surplus."
god help us.
today, in honor of of black thursday, i'll focus on bushisms.
america held hostage day 1837
"One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures."
"It's clearly a budget. It's got a lot of numbers in it."
"If you don't stand for anything, you don't stand for anything!"
"A surplus means there'll be money left over. Otherwise, it wouldn't be called a surplus."
god help us.
weekend update
01.17.05 (3:29 pm) [edit]
it finally dawned on me yesterday that my life has been altered for the forseeable future by my huskie's diabetes. last week i kept waiting for friday to come, knowing i seriously needed a rest. it's been so stressful trying to figure out what's wrong with him, then getting his glucose corrected. the problem is that the diabetes isn't going to go away. duh. he has an ultrasound scheduled on wednesday and they're going to keep him all day so they can do multiple checks of his glucose level. the goal is to find out when his insulin peaks and when it's at its lowest. i have no idea how that's going to help me, but i guess i'll find out then.
starting the week again with that numbed out feeling. i hate the way it feels, but i think that's the only way i can make it through the day here. there are so many work-related issues that i can't resolve, so the only option that remains is to just not feel. i'm really good at it. i had lots of practice growing up and it feels very familiar to me...almost like it's normal.
not much going on this past weekend. i watched "secret window" with my mom and i kept thinking, "this seems familiar." turns out i had seen it before with my husband. nonetheless, i still didn't remember how it ended. it was just as well, really, because i couldn't find anything at the video store that i wished to see or that i wished to see with my mother. sunday was spent cooking food for Mr. T. we also watched a movie on the lifetime network.
i've been seriously curtailing my free-spending ways until i can determine what's wrong with my boy and how much it's going to cost to treat him. we just spent $1,000 on the car on friday and i have a dental bill that's right around $1700. is it any wonder i've completely halted all spending unless absolutely necessary?
the money thing always rattles my cage. i grew up with such financial insecurity that i can flip out pretty easily about it. it's a big part of my need to feel safe. i immediately go into panic mode and start thinking about taking on a second job. as if my health wouldn't be compromised if i did.
boring myself. here's the quote of the day:
"Can anybody remember when the times were not hard and money not scarce?" - Mark Twain
america held hostage day 1834
bushism of the day:
"One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures."
website of the day: M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence
http://www.gandhiinstitute.org/" title="http://www.gandhiinstitute.org/" target="_blank"http://www.gandhiinstitute.or...
starting the week again with that numbed out feeling. i hate the way it feels, but i think that's the only way i can make it through the day here. there are so many work-related issues that i can't resolve, so the only option that remains is to just not feel. i'm really good at it. i had lots of practice growing up and it feels very familiar to me...almost like it's normal.
not much going on this past weekend. i watched "secret window" with my mom and i kept thinking, "this seems familiar." turns out i had seen it before with my husband. nonetheless, i still didn't remember how it ended. it was just as well, really, because i couldn't find anything at the video store that i wished to see or that i wished to see with my mother. sunday was spent cooking food for Mr. T. we also watched a movie on the lifetime network.
i've been seriously curtailing my free-spending ways until i can determine what's wrong with my boy and how much it's going to cost to treat him. we just spent $1,000 on the car on friday and i have a dental bill that's right around $1700. is it any wonder i've completely halted all spending unless absolutely necessary?
the money thing always rattles my cage. i grew up with such financial insecurity that i can flip out pretty easily about it. it's a big part of my need to feel safe. i immediately go into panic mode and start thinking about taking on a second job. as if my health wouldn't be compromised if i did.
boring myself. here's the quote of the day:
"Can anybody remember when the times were not hard and money not scarce?" - Mark Twain
america held hostage day 1834
bushism of the day:
"One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some fantastic pictures."
website of the day: M.K. Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence
http://www.gandhiinstitute.org/" title="http://www.gandhiinstitute.org/" target="_blank"http://www.gandhiinstitute.or...
friendship
01.14.05 (1:02 pm) [edit]
i'm so glad this week is over. dealing with my sick dog has left me exhausted and stressed out. of course, the only thing that changes over the weekend is that i don't have to show up at the office. that makes me happy under any circumstances. he seems to be doing a little better today. i was able to get him to eat some of his special food, so maybe he has a little more fiber and vitamins in him today.
i can see a tiny, tiny little bird on the tree outside my window. i used to have binoculars here, but i took them home and haven't brought them back. it moves a lot like a woodpecker, but it's too small to be that. it's really nice to glance outside and see the little creatures that live in the tress outside my office window.
i have a new online friend. i met her through an online support group and we've been corresponding for a couple of weeks now. her early life was also deeply scarred by parental abuse. this is really pathetic, but i was so happy to see that i had an email from her his morning. i'm surrounded by people at work all day, but there's very little hope that anyone here could ever understand the life i've lived and the consequences that still reverberate through my life. there is one person here who believes she does, but that's because she doesn't know the full story.
i resist the idea that i might be lonely, although my therapist says that, if i weren't, there would be something wrong with me. i guess i've gotten so accustomed to living a solitary life that i don't even notice loneliness most of the time. i'm very introverted, but i'm also very low on trust these days. after the long saga of my friend, stephanie, i've been even more reluctant than ever to embark on any new relationships.
it seems that since i'm a very empathic person, i attract people who wish to lean on me emotionally. i'm open to providing emotional support to friends, but stephanie is a great 3example of why i'm not so interested in developing any new relationships. she used to call me every day (sometimes twice) and expected me to minister to her emotional needs. during a time when i was working far too much and was very ill with a work-related condition, i was planning a complex event for work and neglected to give her a call on her birthday. when i finally did call her, she told me not to call until she let me know she was ready to hear from me. she had absolutely no interest in why i might have missed the birthday call. i'm guessing she thought i would be devastated by her anger and rejection. wrong. at first, i was just very, very angry that she'd hung up on me. but then it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. i went to work on monday and found myself humming.
she finally contacted me shortly after my dad killed himself. i told her i was in no shape to be having any social discourse. she wrote me a letter telling me she was sorry and that she knew i'd be just fine. by that time, i had decided that my relationship with her was indeed over, no matter what. since that time, my wariness about people has increased. every time i think of making new friends, i feel a great resistance.
the great thing about an online friend is that she isn't going to be expecting me to talk on the phone with her for hours every day. she won't try to make me do things with her, like go to movies, etc. if it turns out that she's nutty, it's okay because we live in different states. it is a little depressing, though, that i'm so happy to hear from her. i take great pride in my independence. the thought that i might actually need something from someone else is a little threatening. more fodder for therapy today.
here's the quote of the day:
"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You, too? Thought I was the only one." ~C.S. Lewis
america held hostage day 1831
bushism of the day;
"For every fatal shooting, there were roughly three non-fatal shootings. And, folks, this is unacceptable in America. It's just unacceptable. And we're going to do something about it."
i can see a tiny, tiny little bird on the tree outside my window. i used to have binoculars here, but i took them home and haven't brought them back. it moves a lot like a woodpecker, but it's too small to be that. it's really nice to glance outside and see the little creatures that live in the tress outside my office window.
i have a new online friend. i met her through an online support group and we've been corresponding for a couple of weeks now. her early life was also deeply scarred by parental abuse. this is really pathetic, but i was so happy to see that i had an email from her his morning. i'm surrounded by people at work all day, but there's very little hope that anyone here could ever understand the life i've lived and the consequences that still reverberate through my life. there is one person here who believes she does, but that's because she doesn't know the full story.
i resist the idea that i might be lonely, although my therapist says that, if i weren't, there would be something wrong with me. i guess i've gotten so accustomed to living a solitary life that i don't even notice loneliness most of the time. i'm very introverted, but i'm also very low on trust these days. after the long saga of my friend, stephanie, i've been even more reluctant than ever to embark on any new relationships.
it seems that since i'm a very empathic person, i attract people who wish to lean on me emotionally. i'm open to providing emotional support to friends, but stephanie is a great 3example of why i'm not so interested in developing any new relationships. she used to call me every day (sometimes twice) and expected me to minister to her emotional needs. during a time when i was working far too much and was very ill with a work-related condition, i was planning a complex event for work and neglected to give her a call on her birthday. when i finally did call her, she told me not to call until she let me know she was ready to hear from me. she had absolutely no interest in why i might have missed the birthday call. i'm guessing she thought i would be devastated by her anger and rejection. wrong. at first, i was just very, very angry that she'd hung up on me. but then it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. i went to work on monday and found myself humming.
she finally contacted me shortly after my dad killed himself. i told her i was in no shape to be having any social discourse. she wrote me a letter telling me she was sorry and that she knew i'd be just fine. by that time, i had decided that my relationship with her was indeed over, no matter what. since that time, my wariness about people has increased. every time i think of making new friends, i feel a great resistance.
the great thing about an online friend is that she isn't going to be expecting me to talk on the phone with her for hours every day. she won't try to make me do things with her, like go to movies, etc. if it turns out that she's nutty, it's okay because we live in different states. it is a little depressing, though, that i'm so happy to hear from her. i take great pride in my independence. the thought that i might actually need something from someone else is a little threatening. more fodder for therapy today.
here's the quote of the day:
"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You, too? Thought I was the only one." ~C.S. Lewis
america held hostage day 1831
bushism of the day;
"For every fatal shooting, there were roughly three non-fatal shootings. And, folks, this is unacceptable in America. It's just unacceptable. And we're going to do something about it."
the vet probably thinks i'm crazy
01.13.05 (1:56 pm) [edit]
i just got back from the vet's office. Mr. T.'s glucose level was very high. we checked it in the morning a couple of times and it was much lower; the vet doesn't know why, but she suspects i'm not doing it right. i did drop the insulin a couple of nights ago, so maybe that's the problem. i don't know, but i do know that i seem alarmingly anxious-- even to me. i hate that. it's just that it's been such a frustrating week and things seem to be going downhill. he won't eat any dogfood. none. nada. give me the hamburger, please, because that's all i'm going to eat. of course, on the up side, Sheba won't eat canned dogfood, either. nothing like picky pets. the vet suggested i give him the ground beef, but add some stuff to it to make it more nutriitous. my entire life right now is consumed by this husky. next week he's going to spend the day at the vet's so they can monitor his glucose level periodically and to get an ultrasound done. maybe we can figure out what's wrong with my guy so we can make him feel better.
i've been attempting to work on creating a database all day. fascinating stuff. i'm being ironic, of course.
i don't know. i've been ratcheted up since last night. maybe it's just the cumulative stress over Mr. T. maybe it's menopause. what the fuck.
here's the quote of the day:
"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea." ~ Robert A. Heinlein
america held hostage day 1830
bushism of the day:
"I appreciate that question because I, in the state of Texas, had heard a lot of discussion about a faith-based initiative eroding the important bridge between church and state."
website of the day; Anarchy and Game Theory
http://www.spunk.org/texts/misc/sp000161.txt" title="http://www.spunk.org/texts/misc/sp000161.txt" target="_blank"http://www.spunk.org/texts/mi...
i've been attempting to work on creating a database all day. fascinating stuff. i'm being ironic, of course.
i don't know. i've been ratcheted up since last night. maybe it's just the cumulative stress over Mr. T. maybe it's menopause. what the fuck.
here's the quote of the day:
"Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea." ~ Robert A. Heinlein
america held hostage day 1830
bushism of the day:
"I appreciate that question because I, in the state of Texas, had heard a lot of discussion about a faith-based initiative eroding the important bridge between church and state."
website of the day; Anarchy and Game Theory
http://www.spunk.org/texts/misc/sp000161.txt" title="http://www.spunk.org/texts/misc/sp000161.txt" target="_blank"http://www.spunk.org/texts/mi...
the anesthesia of everyday life
01.12.05 (12:54 pm) [edit]
driving back to work from lunch today, i drifted off into a reverie of the past. there was a time when everything was vivid, when every passing moment was intensely experienced. i think that's what everyone seeks in high school reunions or just reunions with old friends. it's what i seek when i recall the girl i once was. that girl had considerably more pain than i have to deal with on a daily basis. she wasn't sure she would make it to 50. she certainly wasn't sure whether she wished to.
these days, though i try to remain present in the moment, i frequently drift off into an anesthetized routine. i'm a little numb to it, so i try to reach back and rouse emotion or, at the very least, to break free momentarily from the drudgery of my life. every day it's the same. wake up, think about how sore i am from working out. try to summon some interest in what i'm going to wear to work. lately i just put on whatever's easiest. i shower, wake my husband up with coffee in bed and finish getting dressed. i take care of the dogs, then i drive the same streets to the same job i've had for at least 12 years now, but who's counting? i hang around work, go to lunch, come home at the end of the day. i have dinner with my husband, go home, work out and do a little reading. sometimes i meditate. then bedtime and i get up the next day to do it all over again. it's so unbearably tedious.
my therapist would probably say that one of the reasons i have such a numbed response to my life is because there are so many emotions i keep at bay. at the heart of it all is an attempt to hold at arm's length the recognition that i simply haven't been very important to anyone in life. in all of the relationships i've ever had, i immediately move to the bottom of the list of priorities. i don't understand why that's so. when parents can find so many other things to care about than their child, maybe one simply gets accustomed to this profound aloneness. i don't think i'm capable of confronting that black hole hidden at the very center of my being. whenever i catch glimpses of it, the pain is unbearable.
it's so much easier to just go through the day like every other day. the sameness of my days may even be just a little heartening. i'm no longer living in a chaotic environment where unanticipated dangers loom behind every passing second. anesthesia is thus somehow comforting. nonetheless, i miss the girl who was so vibrantly present even to that terror and pain. i think she just got very tired.
maybe that's just what middle age feels like to everyone. monotony. comforting in its predictability, but ultimately, maybe deadly to all feeling. we are unimpressed, thank you very much. we've seen the blue sky and the sunset a thousand times before. we've met new people and found them to be, at best, predictable and, at worst, just the same old demands in new packages. we've married our heart's desires and found them to be surly and unshaven in the morning. romance is an old wive's tale. it's just all the same, every last second.
here's the quote of the day:
"There's no such thing as old age, there is only sorrow." ~ Edith Wharton
america held hostage day 1829
bushism of the day:
"They want the federal government controlling Social Security like it's some kind of federal program."
wesite of the day: National Institute for Discovery Science
http://www.nidsci.org/index2.html" title="http://www.nidsci.org/index2.html" target="_blank"http://www.nidsci.org/index2....
You gotta love this shit.
these days, though i try to remain present in the moment, i frequently drift off into an anesthetized routine. i'm a little numb to it, so i try to reach back and rouse emotion or, at the very least, to break free momentarily from the drudgery of my life. every day it's the same. wake up, think about how sore i am from working out. try to summon some interest in what i'm going to wear to work. lately i just put on whatever's easiest. i shower, wake my husband up with coffee in bed and finish getting dressed. i take care of the dogs, then i drive the same streets to the same job i've had for at least 12 years now, but who's counting? i hang around work, go to lunch, come home at the end of the day. i have dinner with my husband, go home, work out and do a little reading. sometimes i meditate. then bedtime and i get up the next day to do it all over again. it's so unbearably tedious.
my therapist would probably say that one of the reasons i have such a numbed response to my life is because there are so many emotions i keep at bay. at the heart of it all is an attempt to hold at arm's length the recognition that i simply haven't been very important to anyone in life. in all of the relationships i've ever had, i immediately move to the bottom of the list of priorities. i don't understand why that's so. when parents can find so many other things to care about than their child, maybe one simply gets accustomed to this profound aloneness. i don't think i'm capable of confronting that black hole hidden at the very center of my being. whenever i catch glimpses of it, the pain is unbearable.
it's so much easier to just go through the day like every other day. the sameness of my days may even be just a little heartening. i'm no longer living in a chaotic environment where unanticipated dangers loom behind every passing second. anesthesia is thus somehow comforting. nonetheless, i miss the girl who was so vibrantly present even to that terror and pain. i think she just got very tired.
maybe that's just what middle age feels like to everyone. monotony. comforting in its predictability, but ultimately, maybe deadly to all feeling. we are unimpressed, thank you very much. we've seen the blue sky and the sunset a thousand times before. we've met new people and found them to be, at best, predictable and, at worst, just the same old demands in new packages. we've married our heart's desires and found them to be surly and unshaven in the morning. romance is an old wive's tale. it's just all the same, every last second.
here's the quote of the day:
"There's no such thing as old age, there is only sorrow." ~ Edith Wharton
america held hostage day 1829
bushism of the day:
"They want the federal government controlling Social Security like it's some kind of federal program."
wesite of the day: National Institute for Discovery Science
http://www.nidsci.org/index2.html" title="http://www.nidsci.org/index2.html" target="_blank"http://www.nidsci.org/index2....
You gotta love this shit.
dogs and suicide
01.10.05 (1:20 pm) [edit]
hubby left this morning to visit my stepson and his wife. after taking him to pick up a rental car, i came back and got The Tusk ready for his appointment with the vet. he wouldn't eat much this morning, but enough to give him his insulin injection. he only weight 69 pounds this morning, which i'm assuming is related to his not eating breakfast. his glucose level was down to 316. i had a disagreement with his doctor about the amount of insulin he was supposed to be getting. we had raised him to 25 units, then 27 as of last week. his doctor didn't remember those numbers at all...she thought he was still at 22. i still believe i was correct. i don't just make this stuff up, particularly when it relates to my dogs. he had a couple of hot spots, one on his cheeck and one on his right elbow. we got some spray-on medication for that. we have to go back in on thursday to check the glucose level in the afternoon. next wednesday he'll be there all day so they can do several glucose tests to determine when the insulin level peaks. he'll also undergo an ultrasound in the hope that we can find out whether he has cancer. i'm just not dealing with that right now. it's all i can do to make sure he's adequately fed and gets his injections. i don't really have enough mental energy to worry about it.
as i was driving to work this morning, i saw an overweight guy walking towards the car on the opposite side of the road. it put me in mind of my father. suddenly there was the picture in my head of how he used to be. i spent a few seconds trying to figure out what was prompting those memories, but i managed to curtail that train of thought pretty quickly. there was some television program last night that had a couple of suicides in it. maybe that stuck in my head. to be truthful, though, he's always popping up in my head, sometimes as the person he was before he killed himself and sometimes as the person who inflicted so much pain on me and everyone else with whom he had relationships. i guess that's just the nature of suicides. it's never really finished business for those left behind.
i remember when i first started going to my survivors of suicide group, there was a lady there whose daughter had killed herself over 17 years previously. she showed up every week to offer support for those of us still in the unbearable immediate aftermath of our own losses. every week when i saw her, i wondered how she had managed to keep going for so long. she gave me hope that i would eventually be able to survive my father's death. at the time, i wasn't so sure i was ever going to be okay again. i'll always be grateful for her presence and the calm way she talked about her daughter's suicide. the story is burned into my memory.
i sometimes think about going back to the meetings just to provide hope for others just embarking on their own journeys. i never much liked the facilitator and, the minute she started to try to do therapy on me, i stopped going. that's pretty much my pattern. if people attempt to get to close, to see into my very well-barricaded heart, i will immediately and completely withdraw. i get to control when and how and with whom i share my emotions. i had already had some misgivings about her; i thought she responded to one person in a way that may have increased the victim's guilt. that's one thing that no survivor needs. there's enough guilt to drown in it. when she started doing therapy with me, i made the decision that i'd received enough support.
enough exploration for the day. here's the quote of the day:
"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned." ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
america held hostage day 1827
bushism of the day:
"We are ready for any unforeseen event which may or may not happen."
website of the day: Frugal and Fashionable Living Magaine
http://www.frugalfun.com/frugal.html" title="http://www.frugalfun.com/frugal.html" target="_blank"http://www.frugalfun.com/frug...
as i was driving to work this morning, i saw an overweight guy walking towards the car on the opposite side of the road. it put me in mind of my father. suddenly there was the picture in my head of how he used to be. i spent a few seconds trying to figure out what was prompting those memories, but i managed to curtail that train of thought pretty quickly. there was some television program last night that had a couple of suicides in it. maybe that stuck in my head. to be truthful, though, he's always popping up in my head, sometimes as the person he was before he killed himself and sometimes as the person who inflicted so much pain on me and everyone else with whom he had relationships. i guess that's just the nature of suicides. it's never really finished business for those left behind.
i remember when i first started going to my survivors of suicide group, there was a lady there whose daughter had killed herself over 17 years previously. she showed up every week to offer support for those of us still in the unbearable immediate aftermath of our own losses. every week when i saw her, i wondered how she had managed to keep going for so long. she gave me hope that i would eventually be able to survive my father's death. at the time, i wasn't so sure i was ever going to be okay again. i'll always be grateful for her presence and the calm way she talked about her daughter's suicide. the story is burned into my memory.
i sometimes think about going back to the meetings just to provide hope for others just embarking on their own journeys. i never much liked the facilitator and, the minute she started to try to do therapy on me, i stopped going. that's pretty much my pattern. if people attempt to get to close, to see into my very well-barricaded heart, i will immediately and completely withdraw. i get to control when and how and with whom i share my emotions. i had already had some misgivings about her; i thought she responded to one person in a way that may have increased the victim's guilt. that's one thing that no survivor needs. there's enough guilt to drown in it. when she started doing therapy with me, i made the decision that i'd received enough support.
enough exploration for the day. here's the quote of the day:
"Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned." ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay
america held hostage day 1827
bushism of the day:
"We are ready for any unforeseen event which may or may not happen."
website of the day: Frugal and Fashionable Living Magaine
http://www.frugalfun.com/frugal.html" title="http://www.frugalfun.com/frugal.html" target="_blank"http://www.frugalfun.com/frug...
pity party
01.06.05 (2:03 pm) [edit]
i just got back to the office from a dental appointment. that cut my work day by about 2 hours, although one of those hours should have been my lunchtime. instead of taking extra time for lunch, i had some peanut butter crackers, an apple and an orange.
i think i'm having a feeling sorry for myself kind of day. i'm not a feeling sorry for myself kind of person, so i'm trying to get over it. my therapist would say that i should feel sad for myself. in fact, she's said exactly that. i don't know how productive this mind set can be, really. yes, my life has been crappy beyond belief and it's not that great now, but it's the only life i know. i should just get over this.
i've been doing some new workout videos lately. last night i did a minna tape and i'm really sore today. on monday i did a cardio crunch tape which really kicked my butt. when i woke up the next day and tried to turn over in bed, every muscle in my body complained. that must mean i'm making progress. tonight is another cardio night. that should help my mood. when i did the cardio crunch tape on monday, i had that wonderful euphoria that comes from getting your heart rate up and keeping it up for an extended period of time. it's been a long time since i've felt that way. since i was talked into cutting back on the length and difficulty of my workouts, i just stumble along day to day with nothing even resembling a good mood.
for some reason, i've been reading about the michael jackson case on the smoking gun. goddamn it, it makes me so angry. this is a man who needs to spend a long time in jail. i'm sure he's a pedophile because of things someone else did to him, but that doesn't absolve him of his guilt. of course, it brought up lots of old memories. the whole grooming process, the threats, the accusations that it's actually the victim's fault that the perpetrator is acting out. i can feel this rage deep inside that makes me want to break things or, better yet, go find my perpetrator and kick his ass. he's an old guy now; i bet i could hurt him with very little effort. what a lovely thought. it's probably also not so great for the pity party i'm having for myself. nothing makes me sadder than innocence ripped away.
that's about enough for today. since i can't shake this sad feeling, here's the quote of the day:
"Bitter are the tears of a child: Sweeten them.
Deep are the thoughts of a child: Quiet them.
Sharp is the grief of a child: Take it from him.
Soft is the heart of a child: Do not harden it."~ Pamela Glenconner
america held hostage day 1823
bushism of the day;
"There's not going to be enough people in the system to take advantage of people like me."
i think i'm having a feeling sorry for myself kind of day. i'm not a feeling sorry for myself kind of person, so i'm trying to get over it. my therapist would say that i should feel sad for myself. in fact, she's said exactly that. i don't know how productive this mind set can be, really. yes, my life has been crappy beyond belief and it's not that great now, but it's the only life i know. i should just get over this.
i've been doing some new workout videos lately. last night i did a minna tape and i'm really sore today. on monday i did a cardio crunch tape which really kicked my butt. when i woke up the next day and tried to turn over in bed, every muscle in my body complained. that must mean i'm making progress. tonight is another cardio night. that should help my mood. when i did the cardio crunch tape on monday, i had that wonderful euphoria that comes from getting your heart rate up and keeping it up for an extended period of time. it's been a long time since i've felt that way. since i was talked into cutting back on the length and difficulty of my workouts, i just stumble along day to day with nothing even resembling a good mood.
for some reason, i've been reading about the michael jackson case on the smoking gun. goddamn it, it makes me so angry. this is a man who needs to spend a long time in jail. i'm sure he's a pedophile because of things someone else did to him, but that doesn't absolve him of his guilt. of course, it brought up lots of old memories. the whole grooming process, the threats, the accusations that it's actually the victim's fault that the perpetrator is acting out. i can feel this rage deep inside that makes me want to break things or, better yet, go find my perpetrator and kick his ass. he's an old guy now; i bet i could hurt him with very little effort. what a lovely thought. it's probably also not so great for the pity party i'm having for myself. nothing makes me sadder than innocence ripped away.
that's about enough for today. since i can't shake this sad feeling, here's the quote of the day:
"Bitter are the tears of a child: Sweeten them.
Deep are the thoughts of a child: Quiet them.
Sharp is the grief of a child: Take it from him.
Soft is the heart of a child: Do not harden it."~ Pamela Glenconner
america held hostage day 1823
bushism of the day;
"There's not going to be enough people in the system to take advantage of people like me."
spinning the wheel
01.05.05 (1:26 pm) [edit]
i'm very disgruntled today. the sky is gray and another cold front is moving in. it's been in the low 70's here for the past couple of weeks and, even though i look forward to wearing my warm clothes, i hate the gloominess. i must have sun.
i finally managed to deliver the last of the xmas presents today. i brought j's gift to her, since she left on vacation before it even dawned on me that she should be on my gift list. well no big deal, but i just had to go through that awful gift-giving thing again. jesus. i love giving gifts, but i never wish to be there when they're opened. it makes me profoundly uncomfortable, though not as uncomfortable as receiving them.
hubby just called to say he's going to submit a resume tomorrow for a writing job. it would be great if he could get it, but i don't have my hopes up. unfortunately, he's never learned that interviewing skills must be practiced. it's really the only way to be ready with an answer for any question interviewers might pose. it's the difference between seeming professional versus looking unprepared. i refuse to meddle. i'm going to have to go with whatever fate brings in this arena.
relying on The One (aka "God" aka "Higher Power, etc.) is highly valued in the workaholics anonymous group. they operate out of the belief that we workaholics need to figure out that we are not in control. further, that attempting to impose our will on The One's plans for us is a big part of our problem. i get it. i believe that i've spent the past 7 years waiting for The One to give me some idea of what i'm supposed to be doing other than just taking up space on the planet. i try not to ask for things, even though i might really wish for them. this is not because i'm so spiritually advanced. it's just a very solid understanding that i should be open and accepting of whatever comes, because whatever The One wishes for me is exactly what I should be doing at any given time. every once in a while, though, i start to wonder if The One is speaking and i'm just not hearing. or if i'm supposed to be actively trying new things in the hope that i'll hit upon whatever it is that i need to be doing in my life.
i could, and generally do, see the past seven years as an enormous waste of time. spinning my wheels while i'm waiting for the universe to lead me someplace else. i don't know. yesterday i was thinking that maybe there is a reason for me being stuck in this place (mentally, physically and emotionally) that i'm just not seeing. i started to try once again to resign myself to enduring until things improve (or get worse--that's always a possibility).
in the meantime i've been conscientiously working on relaxing and resting. that's pretty funny. i make myself rest regularly. i try not to work out too much. i've been doing much better at it and i take some pride in the fact that i'm developing this discipline. well, pride is probably not the right word. i'm giving myself a pat on the head.
lethargy overtakes me. i guess i'll try to wade through some more email that's been piling up whiie i was on vacation. sometimes i even bore myself. nonetheless, here's the quote of the day:
"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us."~Helen Keller
america held hostage day 1822
bushism of the day:
"One of the common denominators I have found is that expectations rise above that which is expected."
website of the day: Frontline
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/ " title="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/ " target="_blank"http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages...
i finally managed to deliver the last of the xmas presents today. i brought j's gift to her, since she left on vacation before it even dawned on me that she should be on my gift list. well no big deal, but i just had to go through that awful gift-giving thing again. jesus. i love giving gifts, but i never wish to be there when they're opened. it makes me profoundly uncomfortable, though not as uncomfortable as receiving them.
hubby just called to say he's going to submit a resume tomorrow for a writing job. it would be great if he could get it, but i don't have my hopes up. unfortunately, he's never learned that interviewing skills must be practiced. it's really the only way to be ready with an answer for any question interviewers might pose. it's the difference between seeming professional versus looking unprepared. i refuse to meddle. i'm going to have to go with whatever fate brings in this arena.
relying on The One (aka "God" aka "Higher Power, etc.) is highly valued in the workaholics anonymous group. they operate out of the belief that we workaholics need to figure out that we are not in control. further, that attempting to impose our will on The One's plans for us is a big part of our problem. i get it. i believe that i've spent the past 7 years waiting for The One to give me some idea of what i'm supposed to be doing other than just taking up space on the planet. i try not to ask for things, even though i might really wish for them. this is not because i'm so spiritually advanced. it's just a very solid understanding that i should be open and accepting of whatever comes, because whatever The One wishes for me is exactly what I should be doing at any given time. every once in a while, though, i start to wonder if The One is speaking and i'm just not hearing. or if i'm supposed to be actively trying new things in the hope that i'll hit upon whatever it is that i need to be doing in my life.
i could, and generally do, see the past seven years as an enormous waste of time. spinning my wheels while i'm waiting for the universe to lead me someplace else. i don't know. yesterday i was thinking that maybe there is a reason for me being stuck in this place (mentally, physically and emotionally) that i'm just not seeing. i started to try once again to resign myself to enduring until things improve (or get worse--that's always a possibility).
in the meantime i've been conscientiously working on relaxing and resting. that's pretty funny. i make myself rest regularly. i try not to work out too much. i've been doing much better at it and i take some pride in the fact that i'm developing this discipline. well, pride is probably not the right word. i'm giving myself a pat on the head.
lethargy overtakes me. i guess i'll try to wade through some more email that's been piling up whiie i was on vacation. sometimes i even bore myself. nonetheless, here's the quote of the day:
"When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us."~Helen Keller
america held hostage day 1822
bushism of the day:
"One of the common denominators I have found is that expectations rise above that which is expected."
website of the day: Frontline
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/ " title="http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/ " target="_blank"http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages...
the most recent flashback
01.04.05 (7:16 am) [edit]
yesterday i was planning to make an entry here, but i couldn't really focus because of a migraine. i woke up again today with a headache, but it's not so intense.
i can't remember how the conversation started last night, but my mom and i were discussing childhood sexual abuse. not my abuse, of course. i try never to talk about that specifically. at any rate, she was telling me about the woman who lives across the breezeway from her, who has two young children. she said one of their other neighbors, a man, is always especially friendly to the little girl. the man has no interest in the boy. my mother said that everytime the man encounters the little girl, he picks her up. alarm bells went off in my head and i told my mother there was no reason ever for some guy who's unrelated to the child to be picking her up. i quickly amended my statement when i had a flashback of being picked up by my uncle when i was 5, the first memory of him abusing me.
suddenly it all came back. the sensation of being picked up and knowing that there was absolutely nothing i could do to prevent what happened next. the memory of having tried to hide from him, then trying to escape. i told my mother that no one other than a parent should be picking up little kids. my mom said something to the effect that you can never tell about people's motives and trying to warn little children about bad people probably doesn't have much effect because they're too naive. i pointed out that it doesn't really matter ultimately because the adult is always so much larger than the child that resistance is futile.
i had to change the subject. my heart was racing and i was almost overcome by anxiety. i did not tell my mother what i was feeling. my therapist would ask me why. i'm still not certain why.
here's the quote of the day:
"Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other."~ Carl Jung
america held hostage day 1821
bushism of the day:
"The most important job is not to be governor, or first lady in my case."
i can't remember how the conversation started last night, but my mom and i were discussing childhood sexual abuse. not my abuse, of course. i try never to talk about that specifically. at any rate, she was telling me about the woman who lives across the breezeway from her, who has two young children. she said one of their other neighbors, a man, is always especially friendly to the little girl. the man has no interest in the boy. my mother said that everytime the man encounters the little girl, he picks her up. alarm bells went off in my head and i told my mother there was no reason ever for some guy who's unrelated to the child to be picking her up. i quickly amended my statement when i had a flashback of being picked up by my uncle when i was 5, the first memory of him abusing me.
suddenly it all came back. the sensation of being picked up and knowing that there was absolutely nothing i could do to prevent what happened next. the memory of having tried to hide from him, then trying to escape. i told my mother that no one other than a parent should be picking up little kids. my mom said something to the effect that you can never tell about people's motives and trying to warn little children about bad people probably doesn't have much effect because they're too naive. i pointed out that it doesn't really matter ultimately because the adult is always so much larger than the child that resistance is futile.
i had to change the subject. my heart was racing and i was almost overcome by anxiety. i did not tell my mother what i was feeling. my therapist would ask me why. i'm still not certain why.
here's the quote of the day:
"Where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other."~ Carl Jung
america held hostage day 1821
bushism of the day:
"The most important job is not to be governor, or first lady in my case."
