Anger

Bashed

/ Outrunning my demons / 7 Comments

I thought that I would finally be able to get some sleep last night…

It was 10 PM and my son wasn’t home. It didn’t seem right given the circumstances. My husband said that I worry too much and went off to bed.

Earlier in the evening, we bought our son a car. My husband made a bet with our kids when they were very little. If you beat me at chess, I’ll buy you a car. My son ate and breathed chess, even joined the chess club just to beat his dad. Paul is great at chess and I’ve never once since we were together saw anyone beat him in real life…until the day my son did. Immediately I went out and bought him a match box car and put a little bow on it.

That’s when the arguments started. My son wanted a souped up sports car and my husband wanted something practical for him. Finally they were able to find something they could agree on, a 2001 Audi with a stick shift and turbo boost. It is a beautiful car with a sporty look.

After we bought the car, he wanted to drive it over to his friends to show them. We really didn’t have a problem with this. But several hours passed and he still wasn’t home which seemed odd to me for swinging by and showing his friends.

I texted my son and he said he got into a bit of a mess with the car. WTH!!?! CALL ME!!

Alex said he picked up his friends and was driving through the old neighborhood. He was showing off his turbo boost and squealed the tires near several older guys that were outside partying. They were drunk and this pissed them off. (Yes, apparently some people get drunk and crazy on a Monday night in Wisconsin).

One guy got on his 4-wheeler and chased Alex down. He cut Alex off on the road. Alex slammed on his breaks and hit the guy smashing up the 4-wheeler and the front end of his car. The guy climbed off the 4-wheeler onto the hood of the car and tried to smash the windshield with his arm. The whole time the guy was screaming that he was going to kill Alex and his friends.

To put things in perspective, there were around 4 very intoxicated middle aged men chasing 3 teenage boys that squealed their tires near where they were partying. What??!? Who does that?

Meanwhile, a couple other guys got into a pick up truck with a lead pipe. Alex and his friends got away from the 4-wheeler only to be followed to his friend’s house by the guys in a truck that were a part of this group.

One of the men in the truck hit Alex’s car with the lead pipe. He also threatened to kill the boys and chased them into his friend Jay’s house. Thankfully, Jay’s dad was home. He pushed the guy with the lead pipe out of his house while the other guy got in. Jay’s dad threatened to call the cops. The man in Jay’s house said that if he called the cops, Alex would get in trouble for hitting the 4-wheeler.

Jay’s dad called the police and the men fled. Thankfully, Alex knew where the guys lived. Apparently the guy with the lead pipe was a convicted felon. They are facing criminal charges. My son ended up with almost as much damage to his new car as what we paid for it.

Seriously, we just got him the car and in less than a few hours it is bashed in already!!!!! Thankfully, no one got hurt with the exception of the guy that tried to smash the windshield with his arm.

Needless to say, we didn’t end up going to bed until after midnight.

 

The rails

/ Outrunning my demons / 4 Comments

My husband says that life is sometimes like a railroad track. On our journey, the rails of good and bad happen side by side simultaneously. Life is never all good or all bad. Sometimes the great and the horrible bombard us at the same time. I’ve never felt like that was more true than it is now. I don’t even know what to feel anymore..

Lately, I’ve been in a bit of a funk. My go to feelings these days are anger and a deep sorrow. I thought maybe a weekend up north in isolation would force me to reflect what my problem is. I am not a negative person, but right now the rose tinted glasses makes me want to gag.

What is my problem? Why can’t I have a light and fluffy blog? Is that even what I want? Probably not…

I consider myself a realist. But what happens when reality doesn’t even seem realistic?

The funny thing is that I achieved everything I wanted in life. I’ve worked really hard to accomplish my goals. I’ve turned out better than I even thought I would. That should make me happy, but it only leaves me wanting more. What can I conquer next? I already have a wall full of medals in my dream house.

Some things have really hit me hard…the terminal cancer diagnosis of a close friend…the death of a close friend’s child. I feel like I can’t talk to them anymore about the good or bad. How can I complain about my teen throwing a drinking party at my house when her teen daughter is dead??

There is a certain isolation of not knowing what to say beyond…I’m sorry this has happened to you..Life is unfair..You are in my thoughts and prayers..What happens after you said this a dozen times? What happens when words run out to express your grief for them? Do you go back to talking about every day ordinary life? I don’t know what to say.

The death of Lisa’s daughter stings. It was so unexpected and tragic. This wasn’t my plan for either of my friends. A child shouldn’t die, a healthy person in their 40’s shouldn’t get cancer…Whereas, I have never felt healthier in my life. My body is a lean mass of muscle from running and working out consistently for the last ten years. I still get carded to buy alcohol when some of my classmates are getting asked for their AARP cards.

My children are all healthy and normal. I worried for years that I would have a severely autistic child like my brother. That worry slipped off the horizon many years ago to be replaced by other worries. But they are all normal worries that every parent has..

I have a wonderful husband. I have a great job. I am reaching the end of actively parenting three teenagers.

Yet, I feel this isolation. Change is hard, even if it is good. I love my new house, but I don’t know who my neighbors are. My youngest daughter will be going to a new school and doesn’t have any friends in the area.

I feel estranged from my extended family. I haven’t seen my siblings in months. We rarely talk.

I feel estranged from my church family with all of the controversy lately. My best friend Cindy left the church and we might too. All of my kids were baptized and confirmed there. Must everything change all at once?

My husband, aunt, mother, and son have been on a school trip for the last couple weeks. I haven’t seen them in almost a month. I spent a week in Vegas and when I got back, they left. It almost feels like they are gone from me too. Is this what it is going to feel like if I, in the natural course of life, outlive my husband and mom? This emptiness?

I’ve spent a lot of time alone in reflection this past month. It’s really dark and messy in there. I want to clean things up but I’m afraid of what would happen if I disturb the cobwebs. I have to be really strong to go into the deep, dark ugly places. I just don’t feel really strong right now. It’s not the best time to poke at my demons.

My family will be coming home tonight. Maybe my mood will improve. Maybe I will find my way out of this sorrow. Maybe I will finally accept change, the good along with the bad. I’m on the right track, I just need to keep chugging along..

 

The party uninvited

/ Outrunning my demons / 12 Comments

I knew that it happened. I won’t tell you how, I just knew.

I was angry, a feeling that hasn’t been fleeting lately.

I thought that once my teens became adults that I would be done with all of the crap. But now I find myself looking for babysitters, who btw were always in short supply in the first place.

Babysitters for adults? Laughable, almost.

I flipped through some parenting magazines. Did you ever notice that they stop giving advice right before children hit puberty? You know, the time when most parents really start needing advice.

I long for the days when sleeping through the night was my biggest concern. Scratch that, how I long to sleep through the night. It’s something I rarely do anymore.

I am worn down. It’s funny how parenting three teenagers can do that to you. I used to resent parents of teenagers before when my kids were little. They were always minimizing my problems…little kids, little problems…big kids, big problems.. Now I understand. If only I could capture the middle childhood years in a bottle like an expensive vintage wine. Those were the best years. I could rest easily back then.

Parents of children ages 6 to 11, enjoy it. Those are the best years. They are some of the busiest years too. Cut back. Don’t run your kids to this sport and that practice every single night of the week. Yes, now I am that obnoxious person giving advice.

Guess what? Sometimes I feel like the world’s worst parent. I felt that way this past weekend. Sometimes I want to end it all. I just want to kick my adult children out of my house. I want to cut them off completely and let them try to live on their own without the help of mommy and daddy. Maybe then they would wake up and I would finally sleep.

I probably never will do this (unless they are still living at home in their late 20’s), although at times I want to. When do you cut the cord? Do you ever really cut the cord? They are all still teenagers.

This past weekend, my daughter Arabella and I went up north. Arabella did not want to go up north with me, but at 15 I told her she was too young to stay alone. We actually had a nice time. Until I found out about the party, that is…

My daughter Angel stayed home Friday night last minute. When I left she had a college friend over (that had been staying a couple days since it was a long drive) and her boyfriend Dan. She also said that another couple might be stopping by for awhile. Okay, no problem. She is almost 20 and I trust her. Big mistake that was.

We just moved into a beautiful new house. Everything is perfect, except for one major flaw. There is a balcony that overlooks the pool that seems to have a magnetic force that strongly attracts idiots of all sorts. I have now heard of at least 4 people that jumped off of the second floor balcony into the pool. Apparently this is a social media event worthy of recording. But one misstep could turn it into a fatal flaw.

Angel invited one more friend over on Friday night. This friend found out that a) we have an indoor pool which is super cool, and b) Angel’s parents weren’t home. This ‘friend’ invited 25 of her friends over. These friends showed up in droves with cigarettes and drunk on cheap beer.

Angel got a little sick of it after awhile. Kids were showing up steadily at the door all night. It became unmanageable. Angel hollered out that the neighbors called the cops and everyone left to victimize the next house. Although nothing was broken or stolen, I do feel violated. She may have not intended for our home to be the site of a wild underage drinking party, but it was.

I am not going to be too harsh on her since this is the first time that she really got in deep water. Frankly, I thought that her brother would be the first one to do this. Maybe some good did come of it. It is forcing us to come up with some new strict house rules.

In the meantime, I am wondering how to place a wanted ad for a nanny for adult children.

I wonder what kind of advice the parenting magazine would give me.

Emerging from the ashes

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I am angry.

I am angry with my mother.

I am angry with Matt.

I am angry about my childhood.

I am angry.

There I said it.

It was difficult to admit and hard to post yesterday about feelings of anger. I must have edited the post a million times as the minutes slipped away. I cut and hacked the angry words away. I almost scrapped the post altogether. I thought about deleting it after I posted it.

Anger…I was taught that it was wrong to feel that way.

You shouldn’t feel angry, it agitates Matt.

You shouldn’t feel angry, he can’t help it.

You shouldn’t feel angry, you are normal.

You shouldn’t feel ANGRY!

You shouldn’t feel angry…

You shouldn’t feel…

I didn’t feel…I stopped feeling. I was numb inside. I could no longer feel pain, but could no longer feel joy. I was empty inside. I became devoid of color. I lived in a cold, barren desert. No more tears, no more laughter. I could stare at the same spot on the wall for hours. I was sinking inside of myself.

My mom sent me to a therapist.

How do you feel, Alissa? I don’t feel.

Yes, you do. Take a look at the feelings chart. I don’t know.

Over time I started to feel again. But the feelings right away weren’t good. I felt everything that I wasn’t trying to feel before. It was a dark place. I was afraid that I wouldn’t make it through to the faint light in the distance. Sometimes the empty void called me back. You don’t want to feel if you have to feel like that.

It was a long journey to get to the place I am now.

I had to lock away the demons that tore at my soul. But I still kept the key.

Sometimes, in the dark of night, the flame from the fire that burns through the keyhole draws me in. I’m curious if I can stoke the fire without getting burned. I keep looking in. I pick at old wounds to see if they still hurt. The scars are starting to fade.

I’m holding the key. I feel strong enough now to slowly unlock the door…

I think the person that emerges from the ashes will make walking through the fire worthwhile.

 

 

On ffffffeeling angry

/ Outrunning my demons / 7 Comments

My mom called me first thing Monday morning. She told me that she wanted to work on her feelings of anger. She thought it would be a good idea if I did too. Maybe, she said, I should think about seeing a therapist.

She point blank asked me if I was angry with her. No, mom. She asked me if I would tell her if I was angry with her. Sure, mom.

My mom asked if I was angry that my autistic brother Matt hurt my daughter Angel. Mom, that happened over 15 years ago.

My mom asked if I was angry that she spent/spends more time with Matt than she did with me. Mom, Matt needs you more than I do.

Right now I spend my time angry about other things. Arabella is starting to get late assignments. Her straight A’s are starting to slip…Not to mention that she rolls out of bed 10 minutes before the bus comes and expects to have enough time to take a shower and get ready. And somehow that ends up being my fault.

I am angry that I got a letter from the police department regarding a fine my son received over break for doing donuts in a parking lot…a minor incident nonetheless, but we didn’t find out until we got a letter in the mail. We told him that he had to pay his own fine to find out later in the week that he pissed away most of his hard earned money from his summer job on fast food.

This is what boils my blood now.

But I don’t tell my mother that. I barely talk to her at all about anything personal anymore. I don’t tell her about the things that make me angry. I want to protect her from that. She has had a hard life. She shouldn’t have to deal with any more problems during her last years.

To tell you the truth, sometimes I am angry with my mom. I am angry that I gave up my childhood to take care of my brother. Then when I needed her the most, I felt like she wasn’t there.

My mom did the best that she could. So why should I feel angry?

So what if she babies and spends more time with my disabled brother?? He needs her more.

Why do I feel anger towards my mother sometimes for something she had little control over??

The more important question is why don’t I feel anger towards my dad?? He had an ideal childhood, but wasn’t a good parent. He was lazy. My mom worked long hours to be the main breadwinner. She supported the family. My dad worked part-time jobs here and there.

My dad stuck around but wasn’t there. He was more interested in TV than being an active father or supportive husband. When he was involved, he was reactive and abusive.

My mom did everything and needed help. So I stepped up to the plate to help my mom raise my 3 younger brothers.

That being said, why should I feel angry towards my mom?? Why not my dad? She did the best she could. He could’ve done so much better.

How come feelings don’t make any sense?? There really is no logic behind them. They are so complex that I barely understand my own feelings much less the feelings of others.

No, mother, I am not angry…says my mind…but on some days my heart tells me differently. Why??

A smashing idea…

/ Outrunning my demons / 5 Comments

Lately my technology has been going out more than I have.

This month has been a total technology fail for me. Here is the list of things that went out this month alone:

  • My computer at work
  • My printer
  • My monitor
  • My cell phone

Last month my daughter convinced me to upgrade my iPhone 5 at a Black Friday sale. I was hesitant. I hate updates and upgrades. It makes me feel like an idiot. Just when things work perfectly fine, there is another update that I have to spend 3 hours learning. I had the phone over 3 years and just figured out how to use it. Not to mention that it has been almost impossible getting another phone case for my running belt…Knowing my luck, the phone would probably fall out when I am running breaking my new phone and my leg in the process using the old case.

But my phone was starting to glitch out on me. Sometime it would freeze. The worst thing was that I no longer received my WP notifications…Blogging just wasn’t the same without the WP ping. It made me feel like I was writing on paper with a sore inky south paw hand.

On Black Friday, I upgraded to an iPhone 7. I didn’t spend the extra money on the insurance plan for myself, but did for my kids. Seriously, like adults need to worry about cracked screens or smashed phones??

Last week I smashed my new phone.

I was in a hurry like I always am…running late. I grabbed my phone as I ran out the door. My husband was waiting for me in the truck. As I lifted my leg to get into the truck, my phone must have slipped out of my jacket pocket. Once we got to our destination, I couldn’t find my phone. I thought I must have forgotten it at home. It was kind of like a ‘did I turn off the oven’ back burner thought to me. I thought I took it with but second guessed my memory in the rush to get out the door.

I couldn’t find my phone when I got home. Finally my husband found it frozen in the driveway. It looked fine on the outside. I wrapped it in my arms to warm up. But it was too late. It was dead. I took it in to get fixed. Once they opened it up, it was smashed inside.

I had to buy another phone. I also got a new computer, printer, and monitor at work. Now I even have two monitors so I can read your posts when I am sitting half the day on hold at work. I won’t even mention the internet, software, or phone problems at work…just this month. It’s insane!

I spent so much time this month irritated by technology. I even had the opportunity to hear our IT guy swear for hours on end as I sat helplessly watching. What a waste of time!

I want to take all of these items that failed me into a dark room with a baseball bat. I want to bash the monitor…crack my cell phone…smash the computer to bits…and pummel my printer to paper pulp. I might need a padded room. Not for myself! I don’t want to chip the walls.

I can almost hear the glass shatter in my mind. I love the sound of it.

It is so hard to be gentle towards our fragile devices that cause so much rage.

I’ve always had the fantasy of smashing computers…almost like having the car seat burning party I talked about but never had once I was done with all of that.

It sounds like a smashing idea, doesn’t it??

Grandma’s rocking chair

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My eye hurts really bad. It feels like it is on fire as the tears roll down my face.

Matt is screaming again. He poked me in the eye on purpose. We are both screaming now.

I told Grandma that I hate Matt.

She didn’t tell me that I should feel lucky that I am normal. Nor did she say that I shouldn’t be upset since Matt can’t help it. She didn’t tell me that Matt has it harder either. Those were the things that Mommy and Aunt Grace said.

She didn’t push me away to comfort Matt.

Instead, Grandma picked me up and rocked me in her gentle arms. She sang me beautiful songs until my tears dried and I fell asleep.

Quieting the voices again

/ Outrunning my demons / 7 Comments

Last week I shared some really personal stuff about my childhood. What I haven’t told you was that every time I read, write, or think about my past I experience the negative emotions that go along with it. Maybe it is a part of the whole healing process, I don’t know.

I was feeling angry at my mom. This is a real struggle for me because a) she is getting up in age and probably doesn’t have a lot of time left, b) I feel like she was the best parent she could be, and c) she probably was as much of a victim in this whole mess as I was. It is not fair to be angry with her now about things that happened a long time ago.

I should be angry with my dad. He was a) never there for me, b) emotionally abusive, and c) a crappy parent. But I am not angry with my dad.

To add fuel to the fire, the previous weekend when I spoke to my mom she said that the family was going for one last impromptu trip up north. My whole family was going up to celebrate my niece’s birthday and I wasn’t told about it until the day of.

My mom cared about me, but she always cared about Matt more. What I am angry about is that Matt hurt me all of the time and she never did anything. She never told him that his behavior was wrong. She comforted him after he hurt me. She told me that I was in the wrong for feeling angry and wanting to retaliate. Would it have changed anything to tell him what he did was wrong? Probably not, but it would’ve made me feel better.

Did she say she was sorry when Matt attacked my friends? I lost all of my childhood friends because Matt hurt them. I was put in a position where I had to choose between my family and my friends.

When Matt was too violent to go to school, my mom pulled all of us out of school. I was Matt’s caregiver up until my second child was born. I went to college close to home. As a teenager, instead of screwing around with my friends, I was in charge of showering my brother.

When I needed my mom the most, I felt like she wasn’t there…If I dwell on it, my anger boils. I felt rather despondent all weekend. My husband thought I was angry with him because I didn’t feel like talking.

I decided to call my mom over the weekend. I asked her how the birthday party went. She told me that she dropped off the cake and gifts and went back home. She spent half of the car ride home crying. Apparently my brother Luke was not ready to have Matt around his children but that was not communicated. Luke said some harsh words to my mom which was upsetting to his daughter and everyone around.

A couple of months back, Matt was taken off of his anti-psychotic meds. He started hallucinating again and became obsessed with my niece. He talked about killing her. He is back on his medication and hasn’t hallucinated in over a month. But Luke is not ready.

I understand because Matt attacked my daughter Angel at her birthday party. He was obsessed about hurting her too. I’m sure that my brother was thinking that he didn’t want his daughter to get hurt at her birthday party either.

Matt is an adult and our daughters are little girls or were at one time. After Matt hurt Angel I had to cut ties with my family for awhile. At the time, Matt was still living at home with my parents. Matt has always been fixated on hurting girls. Never boys.

My mom pressured me to have Matt get together with the family after that happened. Not long after the incident, I became pregnant with my second daughter. I found out the sex of my baby but never told anyone because it was too painful to tell my family that we wouldn’t be together for a long time.

It took years before I allowed my daughters to be around my brother for more than just a passing glance through the window. Luke is planning on reintroducing Matt to his daughters at my house next month for Thanksgiving. Matt never hurt my nieces. He seems to be doing better. He no longer mutters to himself or laughs at what the voices are saying. The voices are quiet again. Maybe we can move past this. He will have to stay on that medication for the rest of his life.

Delving into the past and the recent events have brought up a mixture of emotions, mainly anger on my part.

I will share some old journal entries with you this week (some of them are funny). Then I will have to put it aside for awhile. I really have a hard time over the holidays because it stirs up all of these family issues. For my mental health, I have to know when to set it aside for awhile.

 

Who am I?

/ Outrunning my demons / 2 Comments

Who am I?

Sometimes I wonder who you think I am.

Have the things I told you painted a picture in your mind?

Do you know the kind of person I am by the words I write?

I sometimes think about this in the dead of night…or the early morning light..

Who am I?

Sometimes I don’t even know.

This past week I finished reading journal 4. Last year I started the project of slowly going through all of my old childhood and early adulthood journals. It has been a healing process for me…to finally come to grips with my life…my demons..

My oldest daughter has been begging to read my journals for the past year now. I now am also tasked with the duty of reading my journals with the thought that someday they will belong to my children. I want them to have a certain image of me in their minds, even after I am dead.

Journal 4 was difficult. I was angry. I could feel the rage coursing through my words. I tore out half the pages of my journal, ripped them up, and threw them out (recycling). I crossed out some of the writings with a black pen. I never destroyed a part of my life’s writings before.

To tell you the truth, I didn’t recognize myself. It was like I was reading about another girl.

Maybe I don’t really want to know myself??

I just don’t want my kids to see my darkest days. I am describing a girl that is gone now..

I just started reading journal 5 which was written before journal 4. I will probably be sharing some stories with you…

But how will you know me if I don’t recognize the old me in me anymore??

Do you really want to know the real me anyway??

Or do you think of me as a character in a book with a twisted plot?

 

On casting the first stone

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This weekend something happened to me that caused my blood to boil. I felt furious enough to punch someone.

Saturday morning I did a 12 mile run outdoors. It was a lovely fall day that drew many people outside on bike, foot, and car.

As I was running mile 7, I saw a lady about 10 years older than me walking in front of me with her unleashed dog. A car was coming towards us in our lane. There weren’t any cars in the opposite lane. The lady in the car did not move over or slow down for the dog or the walker. After she passed them, she veered in my direction. Then she quickly swerved back into her lane as she sped by.

I was really upset and complained to the walker about crazy psycho drivers. I slowed down to walk next to her. I didn’t think I could run past her without her dog chasing me. After petting her dog a couple of minutes and venting my rage, we introduced ourselves.

The walker told me of a man that ran by her house all of the time. She thought perhaps I would know him. She said that she started seeing him many years ago and that he lost a lot of weight. He always runs with a beagle dog that, although old, never seems tired. And on and on she went about how wonderful the strange man was…

Maybe I know who he is?? Yes, he’s my husband!

When I got back home, I told Paul about his secret admirer. I told him that I had a conversation with her after our run in with a careless driver.

Paul gets very upset when I tell him about my close calls out on the road. I’d like to say that it doesn’t happen very often, but it does. It makes me even more enraged when people do not move over or slow down when there are animals or children on the road.

Paul said that he had the perfect solution. He said that I should carry a rock while running. If they almost hit me, I should take the rock and chuck it at their car. Perfect!

Forget the mace and rape whistle! My biggest threat isn’t from dogs or the creepy guys that cat call as they drive by. My biggest threat is from the psycho drivers that almost run me down as they speed by. I was even wearing my ‘honk if you’re going to hit me’ shirt. But the words are on the back of the shirt, not the front. My bad!

Carrying around a rock was Paul’s best idea ever. It seemed out of character for him to give that kind of advice. He regretted his words immediately after uttering them.

What if your hobby of running gets you in trouble with the law?? What if they get out of their car and beat the crap out of you?

Seriously, who cast the first stone?

**Honey, if you are reading this…Not to worry, I probably won’t start taking your advice anytime soon.**