Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Feelings
I would suggest to all who are inclined to suppress them...don't.
I understand that PTSD amplifies everything, but if I hadn't suppressed every scary emotion for millions of years, I have a feeling that there would be less to amplify in the here and now.
It comes in waves. I never know if I'll laugh or cry, be angry or frustrated, or just overwhelmed -- but there is no doubt that emotions are washing through me at an inhuman pace. It used to be helpful to talk about this, but now, if someone tries to help me express, invariably I turn the emotion toward that person and it's always messy within fifteen minutes. Moral: If you try to help a trapped bee escape, more than likely you'll get stung.
I'm not sure what the solution is. I thought a cave might be a good idea, but Darrin says no.
In the meantime, I'm about as fit, cardiovascularly, as I've ever been. Running brings lots of relief. There's a possibility that I might be overdoing it--my hips and feet have been complaining a bit, and I'm on my fourth pair of shoes in the same number of months--sort of expensive--but it doesn't feel good to run with holes in the soles.
When the PTSD episodes are over (and it happens almost in a moment--I'm overwhelmed--and then I'm not), I have about three days when I feel very little. I don't particularly care about people or things. I'm a bit caustic and have even been called rude by sensitive individuals. Bummer.
On the upside, that happened yesterday. Today I'm still feeling the benefits of not caring--and this is good because my mom showed up at my house and invited me to go on a walk. This means she wants to talk to me--which she hasn't done for the last two weeks, because she's been upset that I got rid of all the mementos she so lovingly saved from the fire pile when I left home at age 17.
Predictably, she told some supposedly heart wrenching story about her neighbor who has been put in an assisted living facility because she has dementia. The story progressed to a supposed conversation my mom had with neighbor lady's son when he came to take care of the personal effects before the house was sold. Apparently, neighbor lady saved everything and he was incredibly grateful because "photos are priceless, just priceless." Not only that, he was able to contact his step-sisters and return their father's military uniform and medals to them, and "they just wept. They were so grateful. They said they thought they'd never see those things again."
So...yay. She got to say, in her parable, that I had messed up when I threw away the things she saved for me. But, sorry Mom, I don't really care. At all. Stupid man, hoarding all the junk his mother was too crazy to deal with. Silly girls--they'll box up the uniform and wonder where to store it because guilt won't let them say, "It fits none of us--why are we keeping it?" And as for photos--sometimes it's okay to let them go.
Did I say those things? Nope, because quite frankly, I don't want to waste my time, and she'd probably cry again. So, I let her talk, said I was glad neighbor lady was getting the care she needed, and changed the subject. Mom will believe that I'm riddled with guilt, which will make her feel better, and I will be relieved that the subject is closed and let it die. Not that it will actually die until a few more parables are shared, but seriously, if it makes her feel better, I'm fine with that. I just hope she spaces them out because if she tells them in a small space of time, I might have to throw up because they're so obviously contrived and I have little tolerance for people who drop hints rather than just saying what's on their minds.
I'm guessing that by Sunday I'll start to feel something again--until then I just have to say I'm loads of fun. Nothing bothers me, I have a delightful sense of humor and life is good.
Warning: This next part is explicit--I don't really care if it bothers anyone, but I do have good manners, so I'm letting you know you might not want to read it:
On a side note, the day that Adam pitched a fit in the doctor's office, I escaped, went to the front desk and scheduled a physical for myself. This will be my first in over ten years. Yeah--I have an extreme aversion to having men other than Darrin touching my breasts and vagina--even if it's in a medical vein. It sort of inspires all sorts of panic attacks and flashbacks and usually involves vomiting when I get home. And not being the largest of people, the speculum just hurts. That's the only way to describe it. Even if the small size is used. And I wasn't able to get an appointment with a female doctor, which means I get to endure larger hands--again--ouch. And I hate it when they say pap smears aren't painful. No, they're not excruciating, but take a sharp something and scrape off a bit of the inside of the your mouth--not painful? That's comparable to what it feels like to me.
Yes, I know this is preventative and could help me for the rest of my life. I'm still dreading it.
AtP said he'd come with me. So did Tolkien Boy. I really wish they could--modesty be damned.
I understand that PTSD amplifies everything, but if I hadn't suppressed every scary emotion for millions of years, I have a feeling that there would be less to amplify in the here and now.
It comes in waves. I never know if I'll laugh or cry, be angry or frustrated, or just overwhelmed -- but there is no doubt that emotions are washing through me at an inhuman pace. It used to be helpful to talk about this, but now, if someone tries to help me express, invariably I turn the emotion toward that person and it's always messy within fifteen minutes. Moral: If you try to help a trapped bee escape, more than likely you'll get stung.
I'm not sure what the solution is. I thought a cave might be a good idea, but Darrin says no.
In the meantime, I'm about as fit, cardiovascularly, as I've ever been. Running brings lots of relief. There's a possibility that I might be overdoing it--my hips and feet have been complaining a bit, and I'm on my fourth pair of shoes in the same number of months--sort of expensive--but it doesn't feel good to run with holes in the soles.
When the PTSD episodes are over (and it happens almost in a moment--I'm overwhelmed--and then I'm not), I have about three days when I feel very little. I don't particularly care about people or things. I'm a bit caustic and have even been called rude by sensitive individuals. Bummer.
On the upside, that happened yesterday. Today I'm still feeling the benefits of not caring--and this is good because my mom showed up at my house and invited me to go on a walk. This means she wants to talk to me--which she hasn't done for the last two weeks, because she's been upset that I got rid of all the mementos she so lovingly saved from the fire pile when I left home at age 17.
Predictably, she told some supposedly heart wrenching story about her neighbor who has been put in an assisted living facility because she has dementia. The story progressed to a supposed conversation my mom had with neighbor lady's son when he came to take care of the personal effects before the house was sold. Apparently, neighbor lady saved everything and he was incredibly grateful because "photos are priceless, just priceless." Not only that, he was able to contact his step-sisters and return their father's military uniform and medals to them, and "they just wept. They were so grateful. They said they thought they'd never see those things again."
So...yay. She got to say, in her parable, that I had messed up when I threw away the things she saved for me. But, sorry Mom, I don't really care. At all. Stupid man, hoarding all the junk his mother was too crazy to deal with. Silly girls--they'll box up the uniform and wonder where to store it because guilt won't let them say, "It fits none of us--why are we keeping it?" And as for photos--sometimes it's okay to let them go.
Did I say those things? Nope, because quite frankly, I don't want to waste my time, and she'd probably cry again. So, I let her talk, said I was glad neighbor lady was getting the care she needed, and changed the subject. Mom will believe that I'm riddled with guilt, which will make her feel better, and I will be relieved that the subject is closed and let it die. Not that it will actually die until a few more parables are shared, but seriously, if it makes her feel better, I'm fine with that. I just hope she spaces them out because if she tells them in a small space of time, I might have to throw up because they're so obviously contrived and I have little tolerance for people who drop hints rather than just saying what's on their minds.
I'm guessing that by Sunday I'll start to feel something again--until then I just have to say I'm loads of fun. Nothing bothers me, I have a delightful sense of humor and life is good.
Warning: This next part is explicit--I don't really care if it bothers anyone, but I do have good manners, so I'm letting you know you might not want to read it:
On a side note, the day that Adam pitched a fit in the doctor's office, I escaped, went to the front desk and scheduled a physical for myself. This will be my first in over ten years. Yeah--I have an extreme aversion to having men other than Darrin touching my breasts and vagina--even if it's in a medical vein. It sort of inspires all sorts of panic attacks and flashbacks and usually involves vomiting when I get home. And not being the largest of people, the speculum just hurts. That's the only way to describe it. Even if the small size is used. And I wasn't able to get an appointment with a female doctor, which means I get to endure larger hands--again--ouch. And I hate it when they say pap smears aren't painful. No, they're not excruciating, but take a sharp something and scrape off a bit of the inside of the your mouth--not painful? That's comparable to what it feels like to me.
Yes, I know this is preventative and could help me for the rest of my life. I'm still dreading it.
AtP said he'd come with me. So did Tolkien Boy. I really wish they could--modesty be damned.
Okay...you're out of control...you have to stop...
Thanks to all of you who have been searching for my blog with endless creativity and snarkiness. I've loved all the entries.
However...
Can't we just communicate again? Send me an email? Write a comment on a blog post? Chat with me? Call me?
And yes, I admit it, some of them were pretty funny, but JB wins the prize for searching "samantha stevens is my favorite blogger." And I'm pretending that's true, regardless of whether it is or not, because every blogger should be someone's favorite.
Thanks for the giggles.
Now--stop it. I mean it.
However...
Can't we just communicate again? Send me an email? Write a comment on a blog post? Chat with me? Call me?
And yes, I admit it, some of them were pretty funny, but JB wins the prize for searching "samantha stevens is my favorite blogger." And I'm pretending that's true, regardless of whether it is or not, because every blogger should be someone's favorite.
Thanks for the giggles.
Now--stop it. I mean it.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Oh my goodness, YAY!!!
In keeping with the theme of my last post, I had a visitor from the Sacramento area who found me by Googling these:
1. why is samantha stevens friends with mr. fob who is very cool
2. is samantha stevens as cool as mr. fob?
3. who is sexier samantha stevens or mr. fob?
4. is mr. fob samantha stevens' favorite married gay man?
5. samantha stevens has a crush on mr. fob
6. samantha stevens thinks mr. fob is sexy
7. samantha stevens is really tolkien boy
Now, the IP address of this particular visitor places him very near Davis, CA (in fact, I actually have a street address for this one), which is about where Mr. Fob likes to live now, so this raises two possibilities:
1. Mr. Fob wants to join in the fun and give me some hilarious search results (and I wouldn't put it past him--please note the apostrophe in number four--who does that? not a normal person...).
2. Someone really, really likes Mr. Fob and feels threatened by the fact that I love him, too.
So if number one is correct, ummm....Mr. Fob, please stop it--or find a topic to search that's less weird.
And if number two is correct, well, no one can ever, ever, ever compete with FoxyJ, so the searcher is just out of luck. However, just for the record, I'll satisfy the search queries:
1. Because I'm very cool, too, and Mr. Fob and I like being friends with each other.
2. Absolutely, perhaps even more cool because I can do cartwheels better than he can.
3. Me. No question about it. Tolkien Boy told me so only a couple of days ago, so I know it's true (actually, he told me I was sexy, not sexier than Mr. Fob, but I'm extrapolating meaning to make it fit the situation).
4. No. But I don't have a favorite married gay man. And I could never choose Mr. Fob over Jason, or Beck, or Boo's husband, or Sir Ken, or The Great -L-. I love them all. I have difficulty choosing a favorite color, too. Bummer.
5. Of course I do! and on everyone else in my life. It's a personal weakness. I'm working on it.
6. Naturally, who doesn't?
7. Rats. You figured it out.
Thank you so much for your visit today. Come back again soon!!
1. why is samantha stevens friends with mr. fob who is very cool
2. is samantha stevens as cool as mr. fob?
3. who is sexier samantha stevens or mr. fob?
4. is mr. fob samantha stevens' favorite married gay man?
5. samantha stevens has a crush on mr. fob
6. samantha stevens thinks mr. fob is sexy
7. samantha stevens is really tolkien boy
Now, the IP address of this particular visitor places him very near Davis, CA (in fact, I actually have a street address for this one), which is about where Mr. Fob likes to live now, so this raises two possibilities:
1. Mr. Fob wants to join in the fun and give me some hilarious search results (and I wouldn't put it past him--please note the apostrophe in number four--who does that? not a normal person...).
2. Someone really, really likes Mr. Fob and feels threatened by the fact that I love him, too.
So if number one is correct, ummm....Mr. Fob, please stop it--or find a topic to search that's less weird.
And if number two is correct, well, no one can ever, ever, ever compete with FoxyJ, so the searcher is just out of luck. However, just for the record, I'll satisfy the search queries:
1. Because I'm very cool, too, and Mr. Fob and I like being friends with each other.
2. Absolutely, perhaps even more cool because I can do cartwheels better than he can.
3. Me. No question about it. Tolkien Boy told me so only a couple of days ago, so I know it's true (actually, he told me I was sexy, not sexier than Mr. Fob, but I'm extrapolating meaning to make it fit the situation).
4. No. But I don't have a favorite married gay man. And I could never choose Mr. Fob over Jason, or Beck, or Boo's husband, or Sir Ken, or The Great -L-. I love them all. I have difficulty choosing a favorite color, too. Bummer.
5. Of course I do! and on everyone else in my life. It's a personal weakness. I'm working on it.
6. Naturally, who doesn't?
7. Rats. You figured it out.
Thank you so much for your visit today. Come back again soon!!
Keyword Analysis
I love the fact that a certain percentage of my blog visitors come because of the results of an online search engine. Most of my hits through this venue have been to this post and I hope the visitors stop there, because they're obviously interested in planting flowers, not in abuse or homosexuality, or my therapy self-pity crap. However, there are other searches I find interesting, and some just crack me up. I find myself wishing some of the visitors would come back so I could find out what was on their minds when they listed the search (although sometimes it's pretty obvious).
So today, for your enjoyment (okay, mostly my enjoyment), I'm sharing some of the searches through which new cyberfriends whom I have not yet met, have found my lovely corner of the bloggiverse (all searches listed exactly as they were input by their originators).
Gardener friends:
1. perennial asylum flower
2. purple snap dragons.jpg
3. pictures white alyssum and pansies
Romantic friend:
1. wedding lines
Platonically curious friends:
1. is kissing someone on the cheek platonic?
2. platonic kissing
3. non-sexual touch
4. importance of non-sexual touch
5. non-sexual hugging
Anger management friends:
1. i don't want to be angry anymore
2. being raised by angry mother anger
3. we're not angry anymore angry anymore
4. happy not angry
Friends with very good taste in women:
1. dara torres latin roots
Confused friends:
1. i went beautiful lines words about someone to care him
2. mixed orientation marriage and negotiating
3. merrily, we roll alone
Porn star seeking friends (yup, I named my daughter after a porn star--not intentional, mind you, but what can you do?):
1. tabitha stevens blogspot
BEST SEARCH EVER!!!!!!! :
1. why is samantha stevens lds and an ssa lesbian who likes atp?
I'm not kidding--someone really searched that. The searcher has a Mac and was searching from the BYU campus, but not using a campus computer, in the general vicinity of the HFAC (which could mean anywhere--bookstore, library, parking lot, whatever), IP address: 70.103.229.162.
I'm hoping that last friend comes back. I'd really like to know him/her.
Oh, and the last part of that search is completely wrong. I don't like AtP. I adore him. Forever.
So today, for your enjoyment (okay, mostly my enjoyment), I'm sharing some of the searches through which new cyberfriends whom I have not yet met, have found my lovely corner of the bloggiverse (all searches listed exactly as they were input by their originators).
Gardener friends:
1. perennial asylum flower
2. purple snap dragons.jpg
3. pictures white alyssum and pansies
Romantic friend:
1. wedding lines
Platonically curious friends:
1. is kissing someone on the cheek platonic?
2. platonic kissing
3. non-sexual touch
4. importance of non-sexual touch
5. non-sexual hugging
Anger management friends:
1. i don't want to be angry anymore
2. being raised by angry mother anger
3. we're not angry anymore angry anymore
4. happy not angry
Friends with very good taste in women:
1. dara torres latin roots
Confused friends:
1. i went beautiful lines words about someone to care him
2. mixed orientation marriage and negotiating
3. merrily, we roll alone
Porn star seeking friends (yup, I named my daughter after a porn star--not intentional, mind you, but what can you do?):
1. tabitha stevens blogspot
BEST SEARCH EVER!!!!!!! :
1. why is samantha stevens lds and an ssa lesbian who likes atp?
I'm not kidding--someone really searched that. The searcher has a Mac and was searching from the BYU campus, but not using a campus computer, in the general vicinity of the HFAC (which could mean anywhere--bookstore, library, parking lot, whatever), IP address: 70.103.229.162.
I'm hoping that last friend comes back. I'd really like to know him/her.
Oh, and the last part of that search is completely wrong. I don't like AtP. I adore him. Forever.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Odd Conversation
Me: I've been blaming bad timing, but I think that's wrong. I never really had good timing--it's just glaringly obvious right now.
Friend: Why is it a big deal?
Me: I keep saying and doing the wrong things.
Friend: If people really care about you, it won't matter. They might get pissed occasionally, but that's kind of their problem.
Me: It's my problem, too. I don't know how to deal with people being upset with me.
Friend: How would you deal with it at work?
Me: It's not a problem unless I care about the person. At work, I'd just say something diplomatic and wait for the other person to cool off.
Friend: What if you're the one who caused the problem.
Me: Then I'd probably laugh, apologize, and do what I could to make things right.
Friend: You'd laugh?
Me: Reflex. It's what I do.
Friend: And do you laugh when someone you care about gets mad at you?
Me: I don't know. It hasn't happened enough.
Friend: It happened at least once. Did you laugh?
Me: Why is this pertinent?
Friend: I'm just wondering.
Me: No.
Friend: What did you do?
Me: I don't want to talk about it.
Friend: It could help.
Me: I'll just feel miserable.
Friend: I still think it might help to tell someone.
Me: I had flashbacks.
Friend: Why?
Me: That's the question of the day. Why do I have flashbacks?
Friend: I wasn't being mean. I just meant, what was the connection that caused the flashback?
Me: I don't know anymore. It seems whenever my emotions aren't under control, they happen.
Friend: What did you do after the flashback?
Me: What I always do when they happen lately, because I'm stupid, and weak. I cried.
Friend: It's not stupid.
Me: It IS!! It's not real. It's not happening. There is no need to cry.
Friend: I don't think you're crying because of the flashback. I think it's something else.
Me: What else?
Friend: I don't know, it's like lots of things have been bothering you lately. Things that wouldn't usually.
Me: You know what? Sometimes I want someone to cry with me. Darrin can't. He just gets mad and wants to kill everyone who hurt me. He's not sad, he's angry. I want someone to just feel what I feel. Tolkien Boy says I can't ask that, but I still want it. And I want to know someone feels sad that I hurt. I want to touch their tears. Most of me feels guilt for wanting this, and I know if I wait long enough I can put it all away and not want it anymore. But right now...
Friend: People don't feel or cry on cue.
Me: No.
Friend: I think it's good that you're finally feeling it.
Me: Yes.
Friend: I think you'll feel better when you get all the sadness out.
Me: Yes.
Friend: Some thing's really bugging you about what I just said.
Me: Maybe.
Friend: What?
Me: It's just that I went through everything the first time, all alone. And now that I'm going through the feelings, I have people who know, people who love me, but I still have to cry alone. It would be nice to have someone hold me, or at least hold my hand.
Friend: You don't like people to touch your hands.
Me: I've come a long way, baby.
Friend: Maybe this is all part of of it. Some things we just have to do alone.
Me: Yeah. I hoped I could change that. Like everything else, I can't. Just not magic enough, I guess.
Friend: I think you're magic.
Me: Delusions are not helpful.
Friend: And I love you.
Me: I love you, too
Friend: Why is it a big deal?
Me: I keep saying and doing the wrong things.
Friend: If people really care about you, it won't matter. They might get pissed occasionally, but that's kind of their problem.
Me: It's my problem, too. I don't know how to deal with people being upset with me.
Friend: How would you deal with it at work?
Me: It's not a problem unless I care about the person. At work, I'd just say something diplomatic and wait for the other person to cool off.
Friend: What if you're the one who caused the problem.
Me: Then I'd probably laugh, apologize, and do what I could to make things right.
Friend: You'd laugh?
Me: Reflex. It's what I do.
Friend: And do you laugh when someone you care about gets mad at you?
Me: I don't know. It hasn't happened enough.
Friend: It happened at least once. Did you laugh?
Me: Why is this pertinent?
Friend: I'm just wondering.
Me: No.
Friend: What did you do?
Me: I don't want to talk about it.
Friend: It could help.
Me: I'll just feel miserable.
Friend: I still think it might help to tell someone.
Me: I had flashbacks.
Friend: Why?
Me: That's the question of the day. Why do I have flashbacks?
Friend: I wasn't being mean. I just meant, what was the connection that caused the flashback?
Me: I don't know anymore. It seems whenever my emotions aren't under control, they happen.
Friend: What did you do after the flashback?
Me: What I always do when they happen lately, because I'm stupid, and weak. I cried.
Friend: It's not stupid.
Me: It IS!! It's not real. It's not happening. There is no need to cry.
Friend: I don't think you're crying because of the flashback. I think it's something else.
Me: What else?
Friend: I don't know, it's like lots of things have been bothering you lately. Things that wouldn't usually.
Me: You know what? Sometimes I want someone to cry with me. Darrin can't. He just gets mad and wants to kill everyone who hurt me. He's not sad, he's angry. I want someone to just feel what I feel. Tolkien Boy says I can't ask that, but I still want it. And I want to know someone feels sad that I hurt. I want to touch their tears. Most of me feels guilt for wanting this, and I know if I wait long enough I can put it all away and not want it anymore. But right now...
Friend: People don't feel or cry on cue.
Me: No.
Friend: I think it's good that you're finally feeling it.
Me: Yes.
Friend: I think you'll feel better when you get all the sadness out.
Me: Yes.
Friend: Some thing's really bugging you about what I just said.
Me: Maybe.
Friend: What?
Me: It's just that I went through everything the first time, all alone. And now that I'm going through the feelings, I have people who know, people who love me, but I still have to cry alone. It would be nice to have someone hold me, or at least hold my hand.
Friend: You don't like people to touch your hands.
Me: I've come a long way, baby.
Friend: Maybe this is all part of of it. Some things we just have to do alone.
Me: Yeah. I hoped I could change that. Like everything else, I can't. Just not magic enough, I guess.
Friend: I think you're magic.
Me: Delusions are not helpful.
Friend: And I love you.
Me: I love you, too
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Phobias
Adam has one. He hates needles. He becomes absolutely, irrationally, afraid when one is going to be poked into him.
So--he had to have immunizations before school, which meant three shots. I told the doctor it wouldn't be easy.
In the end, after hauling him out of the bathroom, insisting he sit down, explaining that there was no other way, denying him the privilege of administering the shots himself, it was time.
DJ restrained one leg. The doctor restrained the other. I held Adam's hands and arms in place. One nurse perched above him on the exam table, another knelt next to him on the floor just beneath the exam table nurse, and a third stood on the other side of him.
Adam was allowed to count to three. On three all the nurses injected him at once while DJ, the doctor and I held Adam in place.
As I drove out of the parking lot, Adam said, "That didn't even hurt."
I'm thanking God I don't have to do this again until next year.
So--he had to have immunizations before school, which meant three shots. I told the doctor it wouldn't be easy.
In the end, after hauling him out of the bathroom, insisting he sit down, explaining that there was no other way, denying him the privilege of administering the shots himself, it was time.
DJ restrained one leg. The doctor restrained the other. I held Adam's hands and arms in place. One nurse perched above him on the exam table, another knelt next to him on the floor just beneath the exam table nurse, and a third stood on the other side of him.
Adam was allowed to count to three. On three all the nurses injected him at once while DJ, the doctor and I held Adam in place.
As I drove out of the parking lot, Adam said, "That didn't even hurt."
I'm thanking God I don't have to do this again until next year.
This can't go on forever, right?
I sort of feel that I'm coming to a milestone.
Don't ask me what that means because I still haven't figured it out. But I see Therapist in about three weeks, and for the first time I feel completely out of control. I can be overwhelmed by tears at any time, for no reason. I never know how I'll feel about anything or anyone. I cannot seem to work out logical solutions for anything in my life anymore. My graphs make no sense. My polls have unusable data. I am, in short, a mess.
I'm distraught over the fact that there are holes in my life that I cannot remember. Important people I do not recall. Complete blanks in reference to names, places, and events. It makes me uneasy and frightened. Why won't I remember?
Anyone who knows me has had opportunity to witness one of my unique gifts--I have an unusual memory. I rarely forget things, especially things I've read or written. To have no memory, not even an inkling, means I gave myself permission to forget. It was intentional. Why?
In the meantime, I'm overwhelmed with seemingly random thoughts and emotions. It feels very much out of control. I was telling a friend about it recently. She said, "Sounds normal to me. I think most women feel that way. It's how our brains and hormones are wired." All I can think is, please let her be wrong! This is not how I wish to spend the rest of my life.
I'm still trying to figure out the relationship thing. But at this point, I've figured out how everyone I love fits into my life--I just don't understand my part in theirs. It's difficult to fathom how people feel about me. My former paradigm said, "Sam is funny, entertaining at best, stubborn at worst, nice to have around occasionally, but it's okay if she doesn't stay because there's really no permanent place for her in anyone's life--she's welcome to visit occasionally, though, if she doesn't stay a long time." Now I'm beginning to feel that paradigm's wrong. Some friends have told me they wish for me to be in their lives indefinitely--they've actually said words to that effect. I don't understand how that works.
In the meantime, it's gratifying to know there's always someone on my side. Sully and I were taking a walk a couple of days ago. I was talking about our trip to my childhood home. I was trying to tell him how unhappy I was that I had difficulty going upstairs to the room that used to be my bedroom just because of... I started stammering and searching for words--nothing was coming out right. Sully interrupted with, "...some asshole..." which seemed exactly right in describing my cousin in reference to the many times he raped me And regardless of the rights and wrongs of it, my heart was grateful that I wasn't the only one in the world who sometimes had disdainful thoughts for another human, especially one who had mistreated me in such hideous ways.
I'd love to wrap this up in some brilliant, thoughtful way, but the truth is that I haven't had thoughtful clarity in some time now. I hope it returns soon. In the meantime, I guess I've said all I want to say.
Don't ask me what that means because I still haven't figured it out. But I see Therapist in about three weeks, and for the first time I feel completely out of control. I can be overwhelmed by tears at any time, for no reason. I never know how I'll feel about anything or anyone. I cannot seem to work out logical solutions for anything in my life anymore. My graphs make no sense. My polls have unusable data. I am, in short, a mess.
I'm distraught over the fact that there are holes in my life that I cannot remember. Important people I do not recall. Complete blanks in reference to names, places, and events. It makes me uneasy and frightened. Why won't I remember?
Anyone who knows me has had opportunity to witness one of my unique gifts--I have an unusual memory. I rarely forget things, especially things I've read or written. To have no memory, not even an inkling, means I gave myself permission to forget. It was intentional. Why?
In the meantime, I'm overwhelmed with seemingly random thoughts and emotions. It feels very much out of control. I was telling a friend about it recently. She said, "Sounds normal to me. I think most women feel that way. It's how our brains and hormones are wired." All I can think is, please let her be wrong! This is not how I wish to spend the rest of my life.
I'm still trying to figure out the relationship thing. But at this point, I've figured out how everyone I love fits into my life--I just don't understand my part in theirs. It's difficult to fathom how people feel about me. My former paradigm said, "Sam is funny, entertaining at best, stubborn at worst, nice to have around occasionally, but it's okay if she doesn't stay because there's really no permanent place for her in anyone's life--she's welcome to visit occasionally, though, if she doesn't stay a long time." Now I'm beginning to feel that paradigm's wrong. Some friends have told me they wish for me to be in their lives indefinitely--they've actually said words to that effect. I don't understand how that works.
In the meantime, it's gratifying to know there's always someone on my side. Sully and I were taking a walk a couple of days ago. I was talking about our trip to my childhood home. I was trying to tell him how unhappy I was that I had difficulty going upstairs to the room that used to be my bedroom just because of... I started stammering and searching for words--nothing was coming out right. Sully interrupted with, "...some asshole..." which seemed exactly right in describing my cousin in reference to the many times he raped me And regardless of the rights and wrongs of it, my heart was grateful that I wasn't the only one in the world who sometimes had disdainful thoughts for another human, especially one who had mistreated me in such hideous ways.
I'd love to wrap this up in some brilliant, thoughtful way, but the truth is that I haven't had thoughtful clarity in some time now. I hope it returns soon. In the meantime, I guess I've said all I want to say.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
You should take this quiz...
Not because I believe it's accurate, but because the pictures are amazing.
Your result for The Perception Personality Image Test...
NBPC - The Daydreamer
Nature, Background, Big Picture, and Color
You perceive the world with particular attention to nature. You focus on the hidden treasures of life (the background) and how that fits into the larger picture. You are also particularly drawn towards the colors around you. Because of the value you place on nature, you tend to find comfort in more subdued settings and find energy in solitude. You like to ponder ideas and imagine the many possibilities of your life without worrying about the details or specifics. You are in tune with all that is around you and understand your life as part of a larger whole. You are a down-to-earth person who enjoys going with the flow.
The Perception Personality Types:
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Loving the Olympics
I'm watching men's beach volleyball, and one of the teams has the word "BRA" on their uniforms.
Darrin's explanation: They're from Brazil, and that's just an abbreviation for their country.
Sam's explanation: They're jealous that the women's beach volleyball teams actually get to wear bras, and they wish they had the same privilege, so they put it on their tank tops to make them feel better.
I'm right, of course. Who would live in a country abbreviated BRA? That's a place you only visit during spring break when you're between the ages of 18 and 27. Or perhaps that's called BRA-LESS.
Also, as a final announcement, men's beach volleyball team USA just won gold.
Men's beach volleyball team BRA won silver. Perhaps, had they been allowed to wear bras, as they wished, they would have taken gold. It's shameful how conventions stifle people and take away their dreams.
Darrin's explanation: They're from Brazil, and that's just an abbreviation for their country.
Sam's explanation: They're jealous that the women's beach volleyball teams actually get to wear bras, and they wish they had the same privilege, so they put it on their tank tops to make them feel better.
I'm right, of course. Who would live in a country abbreviated BRA? That's a place you only visit during spring break when you're between the ages of 18 and 27. Or perhaps that's called BRA-LESS.
Also, as a final announcement, men's beach volleyball team USA just won gold.
Men's beach volleyball team BRA won silver. Perhaps, had they been allowed to wear bras, as they wished, they would have taken gold. It's shameful how conventions stifle people and take away their dreams.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
What/Who I am missing tonight
1. AtP hugs--because they're amazing.
2. Darrin--because I want to go to bed, but he's not home yet, and it's just not the same without him.
3. DJ--because he's playing with friends, and someday he won't come home anymore because he'll live somewhere else.
4. The sunset--because it was breathtaking tonight and didn't last long enough.
5. The Boomerang--because it's my favorite amusement park ride, and I have a yen to be on it tonight.
6. Strawberries--because someone ate the last of them and I want them now.
7. Tolkien Boy--for no particular reason, but maybe because I always feel like we only talk when we're both too busy to really say anything.
8. Jason--because we talked on the phone tonight and that always makes me miss people even more.
9. Ambrosia--because I made a spinach salad tonight and I thought of her because even though she doesn't like spinach, she's been sweet enough to eat my salads without complaining.
10. Sully--just because I miss him perpetually.
11. Edgy--because it seems like forever since we had lunch.
12. O.M., J.B., and Pinetree, because they all started new word games with me and I didn't even have to give them cookies.
15. Tomatoes--no reason, I just do.
16. Running in the dark--because Darrin has asked me not to do that anymore. It makes him nervous.
17. Underdog the Cartoon--which I don't really remember, but I've been told I watched it as a toddler, and I think I must have liked it.
18. Playing duets with my dad--which I haven't done since I was nine. Weird.
19. Homemade Root Beer--because I really like it. I don't know if it's the dry ice smoke or the taste, but I suspect the former.
20. Me--because lately I haven't been certain who I am, and I'd really like to know. I think that's important.
2. Darrin--because I want to go to bed, but he's not home yet, and it's just not the same without him.
3. DJ--because he's playing with friends, and someday he won't come home anymore because he'll live somewhere else.
4. The sunset--because it was breathtaking tonight and didn't last long enough.
5. The Boomerang--because it's my favorite amusement park ride, and I have a yen to be on it tonight.
6. Strawberries--because someone ate the last of them and I want them now.
7. Tolkien Boy--for no particular reason, but maybe because I always feel like we only talk when we're both too busy to really say anything.
8. Jason--because we talked on the phone tonight and that always makes me miss people even more.
9. Ambrosia--because I made a spinach salad tonight and I thought of her because even though she doesn't like spinach, she's been sweet enough to eat my salads without complaining.
10. Sully--just because I miss him perpetually.
11. Edgy--because it seems like forever since we had lunch.
12. O.M., J.B., and Pinetree, because they all started new word games with me and I didn't even have to give them cookies.
15. Tomatoes--no reason, I just do.
16. Running in the dark--because Darrin has asked me not to do that anymore. It makes him nervous.
17. Underdog the Cartoon--which I don't really remember, but I've been told I watched it as a toddler, and I think I must have liked it.
18. Playing duets with my dad--which I haven't done since I was nine. Weird.
19. Homemade Root Beer--because I really like it. I don't know if it's the dry ice smoke or the taste, but I suspect the former.
20. Me--because lately I haven't been certain who I am, and I'd really like to know. I think that's important.
True Confessions
I love words beyond what is considered acceptable in mixed company. And I have no idea what that last sentence means, nor do I care, as long as it expresses the fact that I'm so much in love with words that it is an obsession. Tabitha hates the vocabulary part of English--something I cannot even begin to understand. I adored learning vocabulary--not the stupid workbooky things, but just finding more words one could use to express different things. One of my teachers taught us Latin roots and then we'd find related words and guess their meanings based on the origin. I was in heaven.
For awhile I tried actually using my new words in common conversation. Most of my responses ran along the lines of, "Huh?" or "What did you say?" or "Is that even a word?" So, naturally, I gave up. The purpose of talking is, of course, to aid in communication and if the person with whom one is trying to communicate is not a logophile, well, it's best to stick with the basics. But while I curtailed my urge to share my love of words, I continued to avidly seek out new and unusual letter combinations which made me swoon. And, yes, I still do.
In tandem with this love of words has come the love of word games--all of them. I adore them. But the problem is finding someone who wishes to play with me. I've cajoled several friends into playing Scrabble and Boggle (under their real and fake names) with me online, but they lose interest after awhile. Only Edgy voluntarily continues our perpetual Scrabble game, with an occasional Boggle. Original Mohomie will humor me occasionally, but I believe AtP just rolls his eyes when I suggest we play. He's even allowed one of our games to DIE!!! I seriously considered cutting off all contact with him when that happened. Jason plays with me occasionally, but admits that he cheats (I still don't see how that can be fun--come on!!--we're talking about WORDS here!).
Scrabble presents the element of chance to our games, so it's highly possible that I will lose. Regardless of how many words I know, if my letters don't cooperate, or my opponent is able to use those cute colored squares to add bonus points to the words played, well, knowledge can't trump luck, can it? Boggle, however, presents everyone with a level playing field. All the letters are of equal value and you earn points simply by finding the words. I love it. I've been slacking off on my Boggle games lately, though, because I've been playing while I chat with clients at work. This is a bad idea. The game is timed, and often I forget I'm playing if my client is sufficiently distracting. Result = loss. Which also messes with my rating.
So last weekend I devoted all my attention to my online Boggle games. This has brought about a couple of results.
1. My online rating has increased dramatically as I've consistently racked up high scores.
2. No one wants to play with me anymore. My customary thirteen games, which normally move smoothly from turn to turn, have been stalled for about two days. This is not good.
So, today I returned once again to playing while I chat with customers, because, let's face it, it's sort of impossible to play without an opponent. Even the live games with strangers aren't as fun, because I like playing with friends.
And just because I want people to come back and take their turns, I'll give you a hint. Look for these words:
ootid
ulu
aerobe
teazle
acquaintance
Okay, fine, I know that won't help because the board is different every time, but really, don't let our games die!! I appeal to your finer sensitivities...Do I have to make you cookies?
For awhile I tried actually using my new words in common conversation. Most of my responses ran along the lines of, "Huh?" or "What did you say?" or "Is that even a word?" So, naturally, I gave up. The purpose of talking is, of course, to aid in communication and if the person with whom one is trying to communicate is not a logophile, well, it's best to stick with the basics. But while I curtailed my urge to share my love of words, I continued to avidly seek out new and unusual letter combinations which made me swoon. And, yes, I still do.
In tandem with this love of words has come the love of word games--all of them. I adore them. But the problem is finding someone who wishes to play with me. I've cajoled several friends into playing Scrabble and Boggle (under their real and fake names) with me online, but they lose interest after awhile. Only Edgy voluntarily continues our perpetual Scrabble game, with an occasional Boggle. Original Mohomie will humor me occasionally, but I believe AtP just rolls his eyes when I suggest we play. He's even allowed one of our games to DIE!!! I seriously considered cutting off all contact with him when that happened. Jason plays with me occasionally, but admits that he cheats (I still don't see how that can be fun--come on!!--we're talking about WORDS here!).
Scrabble presents the element of chance to our games, so it's highly possible that I will lose. Regardless of how many words I know, if my letters don't cooperate, or my opponent is able to use those cute colored squares to add bonus points to the words played, well, knowledge can't trump luck, can it? Boggle, however, presents everyone with a level playing field. All the letters are of equal value and you earn points simply by finding the words. I love it. I've been slacking off on my Boggle games lately, though, because I've been playing while I chat with clients at work. This is a bad idea. The game is timed, and often I forget I'm playing if my client is sufficiently distracting. Result = loss. Which also messes with my rating.
So last weekend I devoted all my attention to my online Boggle games. This has brought about a couple of results.
1. My online rating has increased dramatically as I've consistently racked up high scores.
2. No one wants to play with me anymore. My customary thirteen games, which normally move smoothly from turn to turn, have been stalled for about two days. This is not good.
So, today I returned once again to playing while I chat with customers, because, let's face it, it's sort of impossible to play without an opponent. Even the live games with strangers aren't as fun, because I like playing with friends.
And just because I want people to come back and take their turns, I'll give you a hint. Look for these words:
ootid
ulu
aerobe
teazle
acquaintance
Okay, fine, I know that won't help because the board is different every time, but really, don't let our games die!! I appeal to your finer sensitivities...Do I have to make you cookies?
Monday, August 18, 2008
Here we go again...
Dear Concerned Email Person,
No, it is not inappropriate for me to announce on my blog that I have a crush on someone other than my husband because:
1. Just because I'm married doesn't mean I feel nothing for other human beings.
2. It seems you missed the part where I said I'm attracted to members of the female race. No, this does not make me evil. No, this does not make me disgusting. It simply means I'm wired a bit differently than my heterosexual counterparts, who, by the way, I might be attracted to occasionally.
3. He knows. It's not like I'm sneaking around falling in love with women all the time. I'm quite certain he understood what I meant when I said, "Wow. She's amazing," about 20,000 times. Also, I told him, and he laughed with me.
4. I also understand that my husband can develop crushes on other women. It's called being human. However, I'm quick to remind him that the person he's looking at is not as smart, sexy, or beautiful as I am--and he agrees. Really, she doesn't stand a chance against me (not because of the above things, but because my husband really is in love with me--as I am with him).
5. DANG IT!! IT'S MY BLOG!! STOP TELLING ME WHAT I SHOULD AND SHOULD NOT WRITE!!
6. It's funny. And no matter how much you click your tongue at me, and disapprove, and judge, you still have to admit that it's funny. And I believe you're laughing when you think no one's looking. Don't bother to deny it. You know it's true.
Bottom line--there is no implied infidelity. Just me, expressing the oddities of my life and not feeling guilt for having feelings. Darrin feels no threat. He knows that no matter how hot Dara is, he and I belong together and my heart will always be his.
Next time, I think you should just giggle with the rest of us and be tickled by the realities of life, instead of becoming upset over nothing. And no, I don't think I need to discuss this with my bishop. Remember, Darrin is a bishop. I've discussed it with him. We think it's pretty silly.
The End.
No, it is not inappropriate for me to announce on my blog that I have a crush on someone other than my husband because:
1. Just because I'm married doesn't mean I feel nothing for other human beings.
2. It seems you missed the part where I said I'm attracted to members of the female race. No, this does not make me evil. No, this does not make me disgusting. It simply means I'm wired a bit differently than my heterosexual counterparts, who, by the way, I might be attracted to occasionally.
3. He knows. It's not like I'm sneaking around falling in love with women all the time. I'm quite certain he understood what I meant when I said, "Wow. She's amazing," about 20,000 times. Also, I told him, and he laughed with me.
4. I also understand that my husband can develop crushes on other women. It's called being human. However, I'm quick to remind him that the person he's looking at is not as smart, sexy, or beautiful as I am--and he agrees. Really, she doesn't stand a chance against me (not because of the above things, but because my husband really is in love with me--as I am with him).
5. DANG IT!! IT'S MY BLOG!! STOP TELLING ME WHAT I SHOULD AND SHOULD NOT WRITE!!
6. It's funny. And no matter how much you click your tongue at me, and disapprove, and judge, you still have to admit that it's funny. And I believe you're laughing when you think no one's looking. Don't bother to deny it. You know it's true.
Bottom line--there is no implied infidelity. Just me, expressing the oddities of my life and not feeling guilt for having feelings. Darrin feels no threat. He knows that no matter how hot Dara is, he and I belong together and my heart will always be his.
Next time, I think you should just giggle with the rest of us and be tickled by the realities of life, instead of becoming upset over nothing. And no, I don't think I need to discuss this with my bishop. Remember, Darrin is a bishop. I've discussed it with him. We think it's pretty silly.
The End.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Thank you Word-entry mode
Actual text message conversation (all apparent typos are real):
DJ: Are you guys home yet?
Me: Not even close. Your dad decided he needed to go shopping. :)
DJ: So where are you guys at now?
Me: Rock Springs.
DJ: So, like 3 hours away? did you get me c present?
Me: Yes. No.
DJ: Cool. Dang. I have meat.
Me: I don't even know what that means.
DJ: My boss at the bank buys a 4H any every year and divides it up between the employees. Hence, I have meat.
Me: What's a 4H any?
DJ: Any = cow which is what I meant.
Me: Okay. Um...yay?
DJ: Not really. I'm giving up meat for a while. But I thought dad might be happy.
Me: Dad says Yay.
DJ: K. I will see you tonight.
Me: Okay. I love you.
DJ: I love you too. Tell everyone hi for me.
DJ: Are you guys home yet?
Me: Not even close. Your dad decided he needed to go shopping. :)
DJ: So where are you guys at now?
Me: Rock Springs.
DJ: So, like 3 hours away? did you get me c present?
Me: Yes. No.
DJ: Cool. Dang. I have meat.
Me: I don't even know what that means.
DJ: My boss at the bank buys a 4H any every year and divides it up between the employees. Hence, I have meat.
Me: What's a 4H any?
DJ: Any = cow which is what I meant.
Me: Okay. Um...yay?
DJ: Not really. I'm giving up meat for a while. But I thought dad might be happy.
Me: Dad says Yay.
DJ: K. I will see you tonight.
Me: Okay. I love you.
DJ: I love you too. Tell everyone hi for me.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Okay, I'll admit it...
I have a crush on Dara Torres. I can't help it! She's fit, she's beautiful, and she looks amazing in silver. And, come on!! an Olympic medalist at 41!!
Admit it... you kind of have a crush on her, too...
Admit it... you kind of have a crush on her, too...
Friday, August 15, 2008
Fragments
I went back to the home where most of the abuse in my life took place.
My mother told me there were a couple of boxes of my things there she would like me to go through.
Darrin, Adam and I walked upstairs to the room where I was raped more times than I remember. I made it to the doorway, then turned and ran. Coward!
I threw up twice. Stupid!
I went back up to the room with Darrin and Adam and spent 15 minutes looking through the boxes before I got sick again.
I didn't sleep that night. I got up at 6:30 and went running. It was beautiful. I ran eight lovely miles. On the way home I started feeling weird. I was running in the same place I ran as a teen trying to relieve stress, trying to stay alive.
I woke my family and we left to go fishing. I saw an old man working in his yard. We stopped. I walked up to him and said, "Do you remember me?" He smiled, opened his arms and said, "Samantha, I would know you anywhere." Then he hugged me. I introduced him to my family. He told me I looked beautiful. Then he showed me the car he bought for his 90th birthday. He's 90. I haven't seen him for nearly 15 years.
We stopped to buy fishing licenses. A woman came to help us. She said to me, "Why do you look familiar?" I said, "Because you're my mom's cousin. I'm Samantha." She laughed and hugged me, too. She asked why I haven't been home, why I've not attended a family reunion, for so many years. I said I'd been busy.
We drove away with our fishing licenses. I wanted to cry. So many years I've avoided family members and people I love because I didn't want to encounter memories...or my cousin. Why do I look familiar? Where have I been?
Darrin left Tabitha, Adam and I near the fishing hole that was my favorite 15 years ago. I baited their hooks and showed them how and where to cast their lines--and caught a trout immediately. Each cast brought another fish. This is why I love to fish here--I used to read the river, watch where the fish jumped. I used to catch fish all summer long. My family ate them--I didn't. We soon caught our limit. Darrin joined us and caught his limit. Tabitha told him next time he should stay with me--I knew where the fish were.
We went home. Darrin cleaned the fish while Adam, Tabitha, and I showered. Then I fixed lunch while he showered. I made the traditional meal my family always made when I brought home fish: trout, salad, fried potatoes...then I cut up a cantaloupe, knowing I'd eat neither fish nor potatoes.
We ate. Adam ate nearly all the potatoes. Tabitha picked most of the avocados out of the salad. I thought about the boxes of memorabilia upstairs.
We played games for a few hours. Then I went upstairs by myself and retrieved the boxes. Tabitha, Adam, and Darrin continued to play games while I went through the boxes. They left and went on a walk. They came home and fixed dinner. I stayed where I was, reading papers I had written, looking at pictures, going through stacks of letters.
I threw nearly everything away. I hated the memories. I didn't want the cards or the letters. I was highly upset. There were letters from people I don't remember--not just one, but years of correspondence from people who obviously knew me, spent time with me, were concerned about me. They said they missed me and loved me. I don't know who they are. I threw the letters away.
I didn't sleep that night either.
I got up the next morning and told Darrin I had to leave. He suggested we go to Utah, have dinner with some friends who were planning to meet us at my old home but had been unable to make the trip, and then spend the night with my sister. So we did.
But I'm still freaked out and feeling upset and miserable inside.
And when I told my mom I threw everything away, she started to cry. She said I should have saved the things I wrote. She said I shouldn't have thrown away the pictures. She said, "Why would you do that?"
I just told her I didn't want them anymore.
My mother told me there were a couple of boxes of my things there she would like me to go through.
Darrin, Adam and I walked upstairs to the room where I was raped more times than I remember. I made it to the doorway, then turned and ran. Coward!
I threw up twice. Stupid!
I went back up to the room with Darrin and Adam and spent 15 minutes looking through the boxes before I got sick again.
I didn't sleep that night. I got up at 6:30 and went running. It was beautiful. I ran eight lovely miles. On the way home I started feeling weird. I was running in the same place I ran as a teen trying to relieve stress, trying to stay alive.
I woke my family and we left to go fishing. I saw an old man working in his yard. We stopped. I walked up to him and said, "Do you remember me?" He smiled, opened his arms and said, "Samantha, I would know you anywhere." Then he hugged me. I introduced him to my family. He told me I looked beautiful. Then he showed me the car he bought for his 90th birthday. He's 90. I haven't seen him for nearly 15 years.
We stopped to buy fishing licenses. A woman came to help us. She said to me, "Why do you look familiar?" I said, "Because you're my mom's cousin. I'm Samantha." She laughed and hugged me, too. She asked why I haven't been home, why I've not attended a family reunion, for so many years. I said I'd been busy.
We drove away with our fishing licenses. I wanted to cry. So many years I've avoided family members and people I love because I didn't want to encounter memories...or my cousin. Why do I look familiar? Where have I been?
Darrin left Tabitha, Adam and I near the fishing hole that was my favorite 15 years ago. I baited their hooks and showed them how and where to cast their lines--and caught a trout immediately. Each cast brought another fish. This is why I love to fish here--I used to read the river, watch where the fish jumped. I used to catch fish all summer long. My family ate them--I didn't. We soon caught our limit. Darrin joined us and caught his limit. Tabitha told him next time he should stay with me--I knew where the fish were.
We went home. Darrin cleaned the fish while Adam, Tabitha, and I showered. Then I fixed lunch while he showered. I made the traditional meal my family always made when I brought home fish: trout, salad, fried potatoes...then I cut up a cantaloupe, knowing I'd eat neither fish nor potatoes.
We ate. Adam ate nearly all the potatoes. Tabitha picked most of the avocados out of the salad. I thought about the boxes of memorabilia upstairs.
We played games for a few hours. Then I went upstairs by myself and retrieved the boxes. Tabitha, Adam, and Darrin continued to play games while I went through the boxes. They left and went on a walk. They came home and fixed dinner. I stayed where I was, reading papers I had written, looking at pictures, going through stacks of letters.
I threw nearly everything away. I hated the memories. I didn't want the cards or the letters. I was highly upset. There were letters from people I don't remember--not just one, but years of correspondence from people who obviously knew me, spent time with me, were concerned about me. They said they missed me and loved me. I don't know who they are. I threw the letters away.
I didn't sleep that night either.
I got up the next morning and told Darrin I had to leave. He suggested we go to Utah, have dinner with some friends who were planning to meet us at my old home but had been unable to make the trip, and then spend the night with my sister. So we did.
But I'm still freaked out and feeling upset and miserable inside.
And when I told my mom I threw everything away, she started to cry. She said I should have saved the things I wrote. She said I shouldn't have thrown away the pictures. She said, "Why would you do that?"
I just told her I didn't want them anymore.
Ugh.
I don't fight with anyone--ever.
I don't goad people.
I don't issue ultimatums.
I don't make people angry.
And yet, somehow, I've managed to do all those things in the space of three weeks--to more than one friend.
This is not me. I have no idea who it is.
I have tried to make peace with the people involved in the unfortunate situations above, but there are problems...
1. I still think that in more than one case I needed to express myself. I don't agree with the way I did it. I believe I was being self-centered and ugly. But I can't give up the thought that, somehow, what I was feeling needed to be discussed.
2. There were things said to me that were hurtful. I don't believe that was the intention--which doesn't change the fact that it still hurt. Two years ago I would not have cared even a little bit. Today, I do.
3. Much of what I said was misconstrued, which leaves me feeling that I should never have made the communication attempt in the first place. I dislike being misunderstood, even if the misunderstanding is purposely stated simply to make a point.
4. I don't like anything about this. Everything that happened is completely out of character and I'm having difficulty getting past it--any of it. I can't reconcile the fact that I let myself lose control of my words and emotions in a situation where I could hurt others and I could also be hurt. I don't do that. I can't seem to forgive myself. And forget trust altogether--it doesn't exist.
How did I let this happen? I feel very much like screaming.
I don't goad people.
I don't issue ultimatums.
I don't make people angry.
And yet, somehow, I've managed to do all those things in the space of three weeks--to more than one friend.
This is not me. I have no idea who it is.
I have tried to make peace with the people involved in the unfortunate situations above, but there are problems...
1. I still think that in more than one case I needed to express myself. I don't agree with the way I did it. I believe I was being self-centered and ugly. But I can't give up the thought that, somehow, what I was feeling needed to be discussed.
2. There were things said to me that were hurtful. I don't believe that was the intention--which doesn't change the fact that it still hurt. Two years ago I would not have cared even a little bit. Today, I do.
3. Much of what I said was misconstrued, which leaves me feeling that I should never have made the communication attempt in the first place. I dislike being misunderstood, even if the misunderstanding is purposely stated simply to make a point.
4. I don't like anything about this. Everything that happened is completely out of character and I'm having difficulty getting past it--any of it. I can't reconcile the fact that I let myself lose control of my words and emotions in a situation where I could hurt others and I could also be hurt. I don't do that. I can't seem to forgive myself. And forget trust altogether--it doesn't exist.
How did I let this happen? I feel very much like screaming.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Time Out
Probably it's not that noticeable. I notice because it's my blog, of course. But I haven't been writing as frequently lately. It's not because I don't need it, or because it's not helpful. It's because some things have happened in the past couple of weeks that have made me feel less inclined to talk. A giant step backwards? Perhaps.
Sometimes I wish there were great big holes for people to jump into when they feel as I have lately. And we could all just stay there for as long as it took for the feelings to wear themselves out. We wouldn't have to worry about saying or doing stupid things that normally we would never think of doing or saying.
Unfortunately, that's not the way life works. So, I'm trying once again to convince myself that the world is a better place because I help make it that way. Bawb asked me where I would live if I could choose--and I told him "Northwest Territory," and then I laughed. But I truly meant it.
None of this post makes sense unless you've lived in my skin this month.
It's not like this has been an all bad month. Lots of good things have happened. My favorite sister came to visit a couple of nights ago, and Ambrosia and Bawb came for a day. I love it when people are with me. It's just that this has been a month when I've not been very good at managing the crap inside me. And I said some things I wish I had not. Still trying to make my way past that. It's not easy.
I thought I was ready to blog again, but it seems I might need more days to think.
Sometimes I wish there were great big holes for people to jump into when they feel as I have lately. And we could all just stay there for as long as it took for the feelings to wear themselves out. We wouldn't have to worry about saying or doing stupid things that normally we would never think of doing or saying.
Unfortunately, that's not the way life works. So, I'm trying once again to convince myself that the world is a better place because I help make it that way. Bawb asked me where I would live if I could choose--and I told him "Northwest Territory," and then I laughed. But I truly meant it.
None of this post makes sense unless you've lived in my skin this month.
It's not like this has been an all bad month. Lots of good things have happened. My favorite sister came to visit a couple of nights ago, and Ambrosia and Bawb came for a day. I love it when people are with me. It's just that this has been a month when I've not been very good at managing the crap inside me. And I said some things I wish I had not. Still trying to make my way past that. It's not easy.
I thought I was ready to blog again, but it seems I might need more days to think.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Wow!
Last night Darrin decided to be domestic and try his hand at making homemade chocolate pudding. I heard him exclaim, "Oh, Crap!" and went upstairs to find that somehow the can of cocoa had exploded all over him. I was delighted, of course. My two favorite things, chocolate and Darrin, all mixed together, and I told him he had never been sexier even if his hands looked like they belonged to an Oompa Loompa.
He didn't think I was funny.
And he didn't let me lick off the chocolate. Spoilsport...
He didn't think I was funny.
And he didn't let me lick off the chocolate. Spoilsport...
Friday, August 1, 2008
Well, of course!
Your result for The Personality Disorder Test...
Perfectly healthy
-1 Histronia, -2 Paranoia, 1 Antisocialness, 2 Narcissism, -2 Schizoidism and -2 Dependence!
As your scores indicate, it is likely you would not be diagnosed with any of the personality disorders tested above...congratulations.
Take The Personality Disorder Test at HelloQuizzy
Because, after all, HelloQuizzy is the bottom line when it comes to predicting personality disorders...but hey...I'll take it...
Picture me giggling...
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