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Time

The funny thing about time is that it’s so subjective.  When you’re waiting for something you really, really want, it creeps by like an ice berg, inching towards eternity.  When you’re facing something you’re terrified of, or not ready for, or just not terribly thrilled about, the hours pass like seconds and you’re running headlong with the wind pushing you.  Time is a funny, funny thing…

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Who knew…

Who knew how prophetic my senior year book quote would be?

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Dont’ Ask, Don’t Tell

If you really don’t want to know what’s wrong, please stop asking.  I feel like a broken record…  But you keep asking, though I’ve asked repeatedly for you to stop.  You don’t really want to know what’s wrong.  You’ve demonstrated that multiple times.  When I do explain what’s wrong, you say we’re talking in circles, and we’re too different.  Fine.  Stop giving the same responses, or the lack thereof, and things will change.  Definition of insanity, anyone?

What’s wrong is that I thought I married someone very, very different.  People change, but had I ever imagined you’d change in a way that would devastate me, I’d never have promised to spend my life with you.  For example, had I ever envisioned your “confidence” would make me feel 2 inches tall, I’d never have stuck around.  I have had more than enough of men making me feel insignificant, unimportant, undesireable, small, weak, and overall “less.”  I really have no desire to make a concerted effort to keep that in my life.  No one can make you feel insignificant but you, blah blah blah, but really, that’s never going to be the case for me.  But there’s one crucial differene in our behaviors – that has always been the case for me. That is not a new development – my self-esteem has never come from my self.  Period.

I don’t want you to ask me what’s wrong because I know the answer will lead to a fight in which I continue to feel defeated, worthless, lonely, and profoundly sad.  I don’t want you to ask me what’s wrong because I don’t want it to be wrong.  I don’t want to feel this way.  I don’t want you to feel the way you do.  I don’t want to think the thoughts I think.  I don’t want any of this.  I want what we were and what I thought we had before all this…  But I want an active partner who wants all those things, too.  I want someone who will actively engage in a discussion when he disagrees, and not keep his mouth shut so he doesn’t make me mad.  You don’t agree with me?  Fine!  Super!  But if you want your thoughts and feelings to be considered, you need to share them with honesty, and when it comes to things that need more than feelings (like you know, where our kids go to school and vaccines and health care decisions), I need you to actually DO THE WORK to make the decision, and not just disagree and resent me.  I need someone to help me shoulder the weight when things go wrong and not just sit next to me.  I can get a dog to do that…

 

So please don’t ask me what’s wrong…  because I won’t tell you.  It should be obvious, it’s been discussed, and unless you’re willing to be completely honest, the answers won’t change, and feelings will continue to be hurt.  Period.

One of my Turns

“Run to the bedroom,
In the suitcase on the left
You’ll find my favorite axe.
Don’t look so frightened
This is just a passing phase,
One of my bad days.”

I really do think I can take just about anything…  When I know what I’m taking.  So slough off whatever you can’t bear, and whether it’s mine or yours, I will carry it all…  Not because it’s right, but because I can’t keep up this fight.  I just need direction…  floating aimlessly in the storm is making the captain of the well-weathered boat weary…  Even if it’s not your harbor, just tell me where I’m going…  and I can chart a new course and though it may not be the course of my heart, I can follow it just the same…

 

Keep walking…

I don’t know why I insist on holding tight to those that are obviously walking around from me.  I was talking to Derry, and the only thing I can come up with is that I am fiercely loyal, and despite a 99% failure rate of reciprocity for said loyalty, I still hope and expect it in return. Why the hell do I do that?

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Protected: You can have your twatbag…

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One Can Only Hope…

I’m wide awake…

Yeah, I was in the dark
I was falling hard
With an open heart
I’m wide awake
How did I read the stars so wrong

I’m wide awake
And now it’s clear to me
That everything you see
Ain’t always what it seems
I’m wide awake
Yeah, I was dreaming for so long

I wish I knew then
What I know now
Wouldn’t dive in
Wouldn’t bow down
Gravity hurts
You made it so sweet
Till I woke up on
On the concrete

Falling from cloud nine
Crashing from the high
I’m letting go tonight
(Yeah I’m) Falling from cloud 9
I’m wide awake
Not losing any sleep
I picked up every piece
And landed on my feet
I’m wide awake
Need nothing to complete myself – nooohooo

I’m wide awake
Yeah, I am born again
Outta the lion’s den
I don’t have to pretend
And it’s too late
The story’s over now, the end

I wish I knew then
What I know now
Wouldn’t dive in
Wouldn’t bow down
Gravity hurts
You made it so sweet
Till I woke up on
On the concrete

Falling from cloud nine
Crashing from the high
I’m letting go tonight
I’m Falling from cloud 9

Thunder rumbling
Castles crumbling
I am trying to hold on
God knows that I tried
Seeing the bright side
I’m not blind anymore

Falling from cloud nine
Crashing from the high
(Ya’ know) I’m letting go tonight
I’m falling from cloud 9

I’m wide awake…

HULK SMASH

But not really.  Have you seen the movie “Anger Management”?  When Dr. Whacko is explaining to David that there are two types of angry people, I always thought of myself as more The Hulk type than the cashier type…  Apparently, I am the cashier.  I don’t express anger, I just bury it…  And then it rears it’s ugly head when it shouldn’t.

I get angry with my kids and my husband…  ’cause they’re safe.  And I feel unjustified or mean or selfish when I start to feel twinges of anger toward the people who probably *do* deserve it, or at least, to whom the anger would be understandable.  I can’t even find the words because it just seems so… futile.

Just Tell Me

It’s been a month since your nasty seizure episode.  In that time, we started Keppra, weaned from Keppra, sent out a test for Celiac and a few other sensitivities, and have started chiropractic care.  Thus far, we are seizure free.  Thus far, I am seeing positive changes in your overall attitude and responses to your world.  Thus far, I feel good about our decision to take you off the medication that removed your sense of self preservation and made you react as though every tiny thing that did not go your way was the end of the world.  Thus far, we are still holding out hope that it is either Celiac disease causing the seizures and therefore, removing gluten will keep you seizure free, or that this is a form of epilepsy you will outgrow with no lingering ill-effects.

I’m not the praying type…  But if I were, I would be spending just about every damn second on my knees, praying more than an answer than anything.  It’s the indefinite I struggle with.  Just tell me it’s Celiac.  Just tell me she will never outgrow it.  Just tell me.

Dearest Dizzle

My Dearest Dizzle…

The last 48 hours have probably been the most nerve-wracking of my life…  I kept thinking that something worse was going to happen, and we were going to lose you…  That you wouldn’t stop seizing and you would die…  It made my heart skip beats and I couldn’t breathe…  I kept waiting to lose all control and just weep and rock you.  I wanted so badly to fix this…  this THING that was happening to you.  I wanted to take it all away and just let you be a toddler.  I didn’t want to think about making decisions about which tests would be best for you, and what medications we were okay with.  I wanted to fix it for you, but I wanted to fix it for me, too. 

 

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