Why don't people understand this? Writing helps me. I can get my thoughts into focus, calm myself down, and do something I enjoy all at the same time.
Most of the time, I have no idea what I'm going to write until I put my fingers to the keyboard. Unless I have a predetermined agenda, it's only when I start writing that the thoughts come into focus. Maybe that's why my blogs are so long. I think in linear terms. I move from one topic to the next almost seamlessly. It looks confusing to some, but if you read my blogs, you will truly see how my mind works.
Other people's minds don't work like mine. They think more abstractly, or circularly, or purposefully, or carefully. Me? This, and my other blog, I consider mine. If I can't speak openly and frankly on MY pages, then where else can I? Certainly not with the large majority of my family.
Get this (Stacia, you'll know what I'm talking about): I posted a blog about messaging my abusive ex. I wrote him to tell him that, while once I blamed him for everything, I have stopped doing so because I'm an adult now. I told him exactly how his presence in my life affected me and my future up to that point. I placed the blame squarely on his shoulders for a moment, then removed it again. Only when the weight of the world is removed from our shoulders do we truly understand how heavy the burden was. That was my point in telling him all that I did. Selfish, yes, but freeing. It allowed me to completely move on, something I hadn't done in the 10 years since I met him. What did I get in return for writing about that on my blog? A slew of nasty, condemning messages from my niece. She's just like her mother: cold, calculating, manipulative, deceptive, two-faced. As much as I hate the accusing stares, vicious eyes, hateful words, I hate the fake smiles and half-hearted pretend conversations even more.
Speaking of her mother, I have contacted her twice in regards to Christmas arrangements for this year. She hasn't written me back to even say, "I'll let you know." I have a feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass. Where I see that she would have no room to complain if she doesn't get back with me, she'll say that since I didn't hear anything back that I should have assumed that things haven't changed. Oh, my but they have, my dear, not that you would take notice of that fact unless it smacked you in the back of the friggin head. Besides, anytime I assume something in regards to her, I end up flat on my ass, rubbing the bump on my head, wondering how I got there. And last week she didn't answer her phone or call back when I tried to call my kids. Hmmm.... Sound fishy to anyone else? I'm sorry, but I just don't trust anyone who smiles through their teeth at me.
In the court of public opinion, I have always been, and will likely continue to be, guilty. Sometimes with reason (I'm not perfect), sometimes without (Neither is anyone else). Who are we supposed to be able to rely on when troubles arise, crises present themselves, and we need help? Our family, of course. There are precious few people in my family that I can count on to help me stand when I've fallen, even if it's only emotionally. The rest of them throw dirt in my eyes, kick me in the stomach, and then piss on me for good measure. And let me tell you something, there is nothing worse in this world than the sight of your sister, your former idol, squat pissing over top of you while you try to rub the dirt out of your eyes.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
To the one who can't read this.
I created this blog for you. Actually, I created it so I could feel free to express my thoughts without the fear of your constant criticism that looms with my myspace blog. I am growing leery of posting "preferred list" blogs so that your daughters can ask me why they can't read them. The number of people who can read this new one, I can count on one hand.
I called you last night. 6:15 pm. Same as last week. The only time during your week that it is convenient for YOU for me to maintain contact with my children. You didn't answer. You didn't call back. Now, my kids think I'm unreliable. Can't be trusted. They are becoming further and further detached from me. You didn't answer your phone, yet this will... as always... be morphed into my fault. I'm sure you'll either call me back today, or I'll call you, and you'll give me some bullshit explanation as to why this happened. The number I dialed is your cell-phone. It's always attached to your hip. Where's the excuse? "Oh, we were outside and the phone was inside," you'll probably say. I've heard that one before, as this isn't the first time this has happened. It was 50 degrees and windy outside and normally, you're eating dinner when I call. Next...?
When I hang up the phone, Terry looks at our baby and says, "I think Mommy's mad." I told him that surprisingly, no. I wasn't mad. The sad fact is that I have come to expect these things from you. A year ago, I got mad about it. Now, I'm nothing more or less than jaded by it. I'm tired. I'm tired of trying to do things your way just so you can change the rules without telling me.
Funny, what got me into this mess was being removed and detached from my children's lives. Now, it seems that you are doing everything in your power to see that the chasm between us deepens. I always tell people, when I'm discussing my situation with you, that I have no issue with how you are doing by my children. That, however, is not entirely accurate. My kids deserve to have all the information necessary to make their own decisions about me. You are not letting that happen. They deserve me to have all the information necessary to make preparations for them. You are not letting that happen. I don't have much else to say regarding this, other than I'm getting close to giving up. No one can play the games you design, because you are always playing by your own rules, rules that are separate and unequal to the rules you design for the rest of the players.
I called you last night. 6:15 pm. Same as last week. The only time during your week that it is convenient for YOU for me to maintain contact with my children. You didn't answer. You didn't call back. Now, my kids think I'm unreliable. Can't be trusted. They are becoming further and further detached from me. You didn't answer your phone, yet this will... as always... be morphed into my fault. I'm sure you'll either call me back today, or I'll call you, and you'll give me some bullshit explanation as to why this happened. The number I dialed is your cell-phone. It's always attached to your hip. Where's the excuse? "Oh, we were outside and the phone was inside," you'll probably say. I've heard that one before, as this isn't the first time this has happened. It was 50 degrees and windy outside and normally, you're eating dinner when I call. Next...?
When I hang up the phone, Terry looks at our baby and says, "I think Mommy's mad." I told him that surprisingly, no. I wasn't mad. The sad fact is that I have come to expect these things from you. A year ago, I got mad about it. Now, I'm nothing more or less than jaded by it. I'm tired. I'm tired of trying to do things your way just so you can change the rules without telling me.
Funny, what got me into this mess was being removed and detached from my children's lives. Now, it seems that you are doing everything in your power to see that the chasm between us deepens. I always tell people, when I'm discussing my situation with you, that I have no issue with how you are doing by my children. That, however, is not entirely accurate. My kids deserve to have all the information necessary to make their own decisions about me. You are not letting that happen. They deserve me to have all the information necessary to make preparations for them. You are not letting that happen. I don't have much else to say regarding this, other than I'm getting close to giving up. No one can play the games you design, because you are always playing by your own rules, rules that are separate and unequal to the rules you design for the rest of the players.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Going to the doctor today..
Yes, for myself. Amazing as that may seem. I'm actually going to go get my post-partum checkup. Of course, my motives aren't just to get checked up... I'm having issues. My back is sore and stiff at the epidural sight. At more than a month later, I think this is worth mentioning. Because my son hasn't set himself to a schedule yet, I'm having a very difficult time setting a pumping schedule for myself. To put it bluntly, my milk ducts are getting confused and I have a feeling that in a few more days, they may go on strike in protest. Junior's tummy doesn't like formula very much, so that makes this just that much more important. So, that is worth mentioning, too. I know there are a few medications out there that can help get my supply back on track. Hopefully, Dr. K can help me with that. I've tried everything else, with some improvement. I'm just not satisfied with the improvement I've seen, and I seem to be back-tracking again. It is my hope that Junior may be able to breastfeed after his first surgery. So, I have a month and a half of pumping to go. Either way, he needs the breastmilk. The medical studies support the fact that it is indeed healthier for both mom and baby.
So, Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's off to the doc's I go.
So, Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's off to the doc's I go.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Parents are people, too
So, last weekend I went to visit my parents. It seems like the older I get, the more I come to view them as human beings. Five years ago, it would never had occurred to me to ask my mother for an opinion. Not that I didn't think her opinion mattered, but I really just didn't believe she had opinions at all. Now, I ask for her opinion on everything. I bet it's getting annoying. Hey, I'm making up for lost time here.
Here's the flip-side. They are starting to see me as a person, too. (I know, Mom, you'll say that you've always viewed me as an individual.) Yet, now it seems that my parents are regarding me as somewhat of a peer, instead of a subordinate. I had to remind my father that I'm still his child. I'm sorry, but there are only two people on this planet with whom I would rather not discuss Viagra or nipple stimulation. Mom, Dad, I love you. I think it's a wonderful thing that after 30 years you two are still so much in love with each other that you have the desire to express it physically. Truly, I am thankful that you have that relationship with each other. It is a rarity in this day and age. However, I really don't need or want to know the specifics.
Here's the flip-side. They are starting to see me as a person, too. (I know, Mom, you'll say that you've always viewed me as an individual.) Yet, now it seems that my parents are regarding me as somewhat of a peer, instead of a subordinate. I had to remind my father that I'm still his child. I'm sorry, but there are only two people on this planet with whom I would rather not discuss Viagra or nipple stimulation. Mom, Dad, I love you. I think it's a wonderful thing that after 30 years you two are still so much in love with each other that you have the desire to express it physically. Truly, I am thankful that you have that relationship with each other. It is a rarity in this day and age. However, I really don't need or want to know the specifics.
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