Rainy days and Thursdays

Man…..it’s been raining most of the day.  My joints ache so bad this evening.  I did take some pain meds, I hate doing that.  But Dr. Kristin would be proud of me since I don’t even take them as prescribed.  LOL

I have been doing a lot of thinking today.  About being a mom.  What it takes to be a mom.  What is the difference between a good mom and a bad mom.  It’s all relative, right?   I have been reading (on and off) writings from this woman, Rachel Macy Stafford.  Her website Hands Free Mama, is full of her life as a mom, the good and the bad….tears and celebrations.  Some have me in such tears that I can’t even read….I have to stop for a bit just to pull it together again.

Today I happened to be reading, Making your Loudest Voice Calmer & Your Truest Voice Stronger.  Before I had even thought about reading today, I had been thinking about last night’s meltdown.  I had yelled at K.  I don’t usually yell at her.  But I did, it even caught me off guard.  It dawned on me today that I had scared her.  That hurt my heart terribly and the tears rolled.  Back to the blog by Rachel.  When I read these words:

At my loudest, I was heard the least.

At my loudest, I felt the most pain.

At my loudest, I caused the most hurt.

At my loudest, my voice was most voiceless.

I felt like she had gone into my heart and mind and grabbed the words right out of me.  My voice has not been there for quite some time.  Before I asked Robert to leave, he told me I talk too much, I feel too much, I share too much.  So, began my time of sinking into myself and watcing and limiting what I say and to whom I spoke to. I began to get angry at him.  At myself for having feelings or emotions at all.  So when I yelled last night at K, I was stunned at myself.  K was scared of me.  She curled herself into the corner of her bed and just looked at me crying and shaking.

I don’t want to cry anymore.  I cry too much.  Lately I cry all the time.  K sees me cry.  She tells me to stop crying.  The other day, she said I don’t even try anymore.  I went to my bedroom and yup, I cried.  I lay in bed and cry until I finally fall asleep.   I called my psych doc today, talked to his nurse and told her I think I need to get off some of my meds.  All they do is make me tired.  All I want to do is sleep.  And as Robert says….I talk too much.  I went on and on.  My anxiety is so high right now.  Between K’s behavior and language and school stuff, the rummage sale next week (that I am not ready for), getting ready to move by June 1, and still not knowing where I am going to live…..I can’t breathe.  I feel like I am drowning.  I know I am trying my best but I just can’t breathe.  There is a huge pile of stuff in my living room where some stuff is marked and boxed and ready to go to my garage.  My bedroom is a disaster….I have yet to go through some stuff.  K’s room is like a tornado went through it.  Everywhere I look…..I can’t breathe…..I need out.  I want to get out and just drive away….get as far away as I can.

war in my mind

 

 

 

 

That is what it feels like these days.  War, battle, conflict, struggle…..fear.  I don’t know what is next.  I know tomorrow, somedays.  But anxiety, fear.

“Words will never hurt me”

sticksandstones

(written in 2010)

When I was young

I heard “words will never hurt me”

I believed you when you said it.

As I grew older

I grew sick of taunting words

“What’s wrong with you”

” You are so fat and ugly”

Maybe those closest to me

Thought it would help me get thick skin

But it didn’t.

It dug a hole.

So very deep, and NOTHING can fill it

These words they said

Those names they called

I hear them daily in my head.

I hate each mirror that I pass

Only looking long enough to fix my hair, or try to smile.

Tears in my eyes

Ashamed of who I have become.

I’ve listened and taken in all those words….

They are what I have become…..maybe….

Not yet.  I can’t see anything but

Ugly in me.

verbalabuse-poster

Thankful day 15

Today I am thankful for the chance to have known a very great man who passed away last night. He has been a very good friend of mine for the past 26 years.
We had recently gotten together at the Riverside Bible Camp on Labor Day weekend. I was able to catch up with him and his wife and son. It was super. It was great catching up. I am grateful I had the chance to talk with him and share some great memories with him and his wife.

I thought I was ok

Tonight I am struggling. I wrote earlier about being angry and trying loving-kindness with myself. Well I failed miserably. I didn’t want to go on about how badly I was doing. I don’t want to complain all the time, which is what I feel like I am doing.

I think nighttime is just hard. After getting K in bed, the apartment is pretty quiet . I had the beginnings of an anxiety attack coming on before she went to bed. I knew it was not going to be easy. But I reached out to a few friends on FB. I focused on my breathing. After a bit….it just was getting worse. My heart was pounding, my hands were shaky and starting to get sweaty. It was hard to type. So I took my nighttime meds. And I waited. And waited. I continued to talk to my FB friends. But the anxiety didn’t let up. I put the computer down and stepped out on the balcony. It’s 35° out there. I went out there to pray. I wasn’t sure why or what to say. I just said, ” God, help me!
I can’t do this alone.”

When I first began, there were tears in my heart. I’m not sure why or where they were coming from exactly. I looked at the sky for a moment. I saw a few stars which was odd considering it was overcast most of the day and snowing pellets on us. But I knew God was there.

I came back in a tad frozen. Still focused on my breathing. Got back on FB and checked back in with my friends. Then it hit me again. This time in the form of having to binge. I made this pumpkin cake dessert for my mom and Tiny when they brought K back home on Sunday. I cut a piece. I ate that. Guilt set in. I had VSG surgery two years ago, I am not supposed to be eating l like that. But then I ate until the whole line of cake I had cut was gone. I had eaten it all.

If you know anything about weight loss surgery you know our stomach can only hold about 3-4 oz of food this far out. I felt absolutely sick. And the guilt set in. If course, had taken my night meds, I was getting sleepy too. So I decided to go to bed. While laying here trying to get comfy, I grabbed the box of crackers, mindlessly, and ate some. About a half hour later I was feeling sick. I went to the bathroom and purged. And purged some more. I know this sounds so gross, but I have to write it out our the guilt will kill me.

About half way through this post I had to get up and do it again. I feel so much shame . And guilt. I hate who I am when I do this. I know God loves me and wants me to beat this. But I don’t know what I go from here.

I see Amanda tomorrow at the Emily Program…..I guess that is a place to start to get honest.

I hear her

As I close my fogged over eyes,

i hear her hear breathe.

like so many times before.

i hear the rustle of the blanket she holds close to her.

it’s soft and pink, the one she got for her last birthday.

i remember days long ago just listening to her breathe.  how that sound just make my heart melt.

the softness of each breath, in and out….

i wonder what she dreams about?  I still wonder what she dreams about?

Do she dream about about the angry things we said to each other the night before?

does she dream about or remember that i love her, every night that I tell her that I really do?

Does she remember the little stupid things I say in the heat of the moment of my despair and anger that slip past my tongue before I realize i have said them?

oh my heart hurts in anger for what i have done.

I believe that i have damaged her so much.

People have told me that I haven’t.  before she was sent to grandmas when she was 5…K and i was as close as a mom and kid could get.  i didn’t just disappear out of her world, i could come and see her whenever I wanted to.  whenever i   needed t.  And i i did.

It wasn’t the same.

but now, i listen.  in the early morning here.  i listen to her breathe.  she is 10 years old.  she struggles every day dealing with me.  a volatile mom.  a sad mom.  a kid herself trying to understand why her ADD and RAD makes her act and react the way she does.  I can’t bear the thought to losing her again.  ever.  I can’t bear the thought of being separated from her again.  it breaks my heart to think that.  I know I need help.  I know I need something.  I am afraid to ask because, I  don’t want them to take her from me.  i love her that much and more.

to the moon and back….around the sun and the moon and the stars….forever and ever…to infinity and beyond.  I love you Stinky Face.

soooo…..

never let anyone treat my daughter this way

 

I went to therapy again to talk with Adam today.  We talked about K mostly.  About the fact she asked about her father again.  She asked me last night if I had a picture of him.  I don’t know if I do or not.  I know I have seen one around here somewhere in a box or something.  I told Adam that I wasn’t sure I wanted to show it to her yet.  But he said that maybe I should.  Why?  I don’t want to hurt her.  But I know she has that right to know what he looks like.  she has that right to know the good qualities he has too.  Adam and I talked about that also.  Besides all the crap that he had done to me and then leaving me before she was even born…..he does/did have some great qualities about him, otherwise I would have never been with him in the first place.  I did love him at one time in my life.  It does make me really sad that he doesn’t and hasn’t ever seen her or had anything to do with her.  She doesn’t even know him at all.  I can’t imagine what kind of pain that is for her.

My dad passed away when I was 30.  I knew my dad.  I mean, I grew up, knowing my dad and what he was like and who he was and is and what he liked and didn’t like….I still remember….even 13 year later.  And I miss him.

I guess i need to look for that picture.  And ask a few of my old friends if they have a picture of him and me together when we lived back in that area in Iowa.  There were good days.

I think I understand now

Maybe…..

as i have been sitting here tonight after k has been in bed…
thinking about this time of year….
what has happened at this time of year….
i have been filling out papers for this new shrink….for k’s new in-home skills worker, asking about my past…asking about past hospitalizations, doctors, therps, medications, suicide attempts, et etc etc
in 2010, i had my last hospitalization….it was when i had my last miscarriage. Dr. Z wanted to make sure i wasn’t going to fall over the edge.   i was 14 weeks pregnant.   my meltdown……i get it now.
i don’t want to lose k again.  i am making myself crazy trying to NOT lose her that i feel like i will lose her.  i am angry at myself because of everything that has gone wrong.  everything that is wrong with me.  everything i want to fix.  and i can’t. i feel like i am failing at getting to where i want to be.  i can’t lose her again.  i won’t go through the pain of losing a child again.
does that make sense?