- It’s been an unseasonably warm week. I love this weather, too warm to turn on the heat but not too hot to need the A/C. Plus the trees changing colors has been at its peak.
- Taking care of myself by going to my therapist and cranio-sacral massage therapist. I even fell asleep on the table for awhile which is unheard of for me in the morning.
- Supper with my best friend.
- When I got home after meeting with my best friend, I got a text from Arabella saying she left home for good. She wouldn’t tell me where she is staying. Although I will talk about this in another post, I do feel a lot of relief that she is not living here anymore.
- Even though she left, Arabella attended her appointments with the psychiatrist this week. They are switching up her medication from the phone conversations I’ve had with them regarding her mental health.
- Arabella is coming home to talk to us tonight.
- After Arabella left, Angel and I went thrifting. She wanted me to have a nice time and not talk about anything stressful. Angel has been very supportive.
- The following night Alex and his girlfriend came over for supper and games. I know Alex knew I was hurt by Arabella as well so he came over to visit Paul and I on a Friday night when he usually hangs out with friends.
- Yesterday I went wedding dress shopping with Angel. She found her dress. It was a very special time with her.
- Last night my best friend came over with her family for supper and games.
- I am grateful for Angel and Alex and our best friends to help Paul and I through this difficult time with Arabella. We have a small support group but they are wonderful and we love and appreciate them.
- Also this week, too close to home, there was a woman who was assaulted by a stranger on a trail while carrying her newborn. The baby was left near the trail and the woman was found nearby thankfully alive. No woman is safe until this man is caught. The following morning I went for a run. There was a man in a truck that pulled over as I was approaching him. He got out of his truck to adjust something hanging out of the back while I was walking on the other side of his truck. He scared the living crap out of me. I didn’t know why he got out of his truck and was approaching me at first. I started to panic. Even though I was on high alert to danger, I didn’t stand a chance against this guy in a relatively remote area of my run. I’m grateful for my safety as a runner as I’ve faced various dangers. Before the attack, I was even thinking about going trail running by myself. It’s just not safe anymore. I’m really sad that the world has to be this way. It’s horrible what happened to that woman. Anyone capable of attacking a woman with a baby in her arms is pure evil. I’m grateful she is alive and her baby wasn’t hurt.
The night before we left I had a dream that was too good to be true. So much so I considered it another nightmare. I dreamt my dad picked my son and I up in a van. My dad was loving and had a good conversation with Alex. In real life, my son hasn’t spoken to my dad in almost 2 years since discovering his crime. He never wants to see my dad again. In my dream, my dad dropped my son and I off at an apartment complex in a crime ridden ghetto. Instead of getting shot, a gangster gave me the shirt off his back for my trip. It was a fairytale dream that left me feeling sad.
I awoke early after the dream to finish packing. We had to leave early to drive to the airport a couple hours away. I had a hard time waking Arabella up and we ended up leaving later than I wanted to. I didn’t even check to see if she turned off her lights. We took my small car and couldn’t fit all our luggage in the trunk. My mom’s suitcase was wedged between my mom and daughter in the backseat.
The drive and check in at the airport was rather uneventful until we got on the plane. The pilot announced there was bad weather in Chicago and we would have a delay where we might have to deplane. We only had an hour to make our connecting flight. I could only hope that our connecting flight was delayed as well. Thankfully we were delayed less than we anticipated and our connecting flight was also delayed. But that also meant we would get to our destination later.
Although I wore pants and a sweatshirt, Arabella was hot. She decided to wear only a tank top and short shorts that were several sizes too small. Half of her large cleavage hung out and her cutting scars on her arms and legs were fully visible. She seemed to like the attention her appearance was receiving. I was rather embarrassed but she is 18 and not open to feedback.
We got to our destination at the Connecticut airport as the sun was starting to set. The car rental company said we could upgrade from a midsize car to a large SUV and considering our tight car ride to the airport and several hours of driving on our trip, we took it.
We were spending our first night in Vermont which was another hour and a half drive from the airport. It wasn’t easy to drive the huge SUV as dusk was nearing, an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar vehicle. We wanted to find somewhere to eat as we neared the end of our drive for the evening. We wanted to eat something local to Vermont since we were only spending one night there. Arabella wanted to eat at the chain restaurant she worked at at home but no one else wanted to. We wanted to try something new so we kept driving. We ended up out in the middle of nowhere stopping at the only restaurant that looked open.
Arabella was angry because we didn’t stop where she wanted to eat. She also got angry because her dad said he would not buy her alcohol. She was pissy during the whole meal and only ordered dessert to eat. Afterwards, Paul talked to her alone and apologized that he did not stop to eat where she wanted as it was her vacation too. I didn’t think he needed to because he wasn’t out of line, she was. We both wanted everyone to get along, but that wasn’t going to happen.
The rest of the car ride was very difficult. Paul drove trying to find our Airbnb. We were out in the middle of nowhere. It was pouring outside. The roads were winding and mountainous. For the rest of the ride, Arabella attacked Paul. She accused him of being a horrible father. She said he was abusive. She was angry that we never gave her an actual graduation gift like a stuffed animal although we said the trip was her gift and we were spending a lot of money to take her. She screamed at Paul while the rest of us sat in silence. I was angry at Arabella and worried about what the rest of the trip would be like. I felt sorry for Paul because he was bending over backwards trying to be nice to everyone and he was viciously attacked.
We got to our Airbnb which resembled an old haunted farmhouse. It was cool and damp. It poured all night and the rain ended just before we left. In the morning we found that we were between two rundown houses. It was strange at the house we rented because two of the bedrooms didn’t have curtains on the windows. The host was really nice though and said we could help ourselves to anything in the fridge or cupboards. We found some Vermont pancake mix and Paul ran to the store to buy maple syrup. He made us a nice breakfast in the morning then we were on our way.
Here I am waiting at the pharmacy. We are leaving tomorrow and Arabella is sick again. Thankfully the strep test came back negative. But she does have tonsillitis and the doctor wants to put her on steroids. At least it’s not COVID as she had that last month. Never a dull moment.
My mom said she wasn’t doing the best either. She said her heart was racing again and she is afraid her cancer came back. Seriously I’d be surprised if there isn’t an ER visit as a stop on this trip.
Besides being worried about my mom and daughter, I am anxious that my kids at home are going to fight. I’m trying to calm down and tell myself that this is going to be a fun trip. If nothing else, with my mom and Arabella it should be an adventure.
I have been so stressed out lately I’m not sure it’s even worth it. I know, I know. I should worry about myself and let everyone else figure their own lives out. I haven’t been taking good care of myself with all this worry but I’m trying.
Nothing that happens will be the end of the world unless the world really does end and all this stuff really wouldn’t matter anymore anyway.
I am excited to travel again and I’ll be sure to tell you of our adventures on the road.
Let’s go! I’m trying to let it go…
The day started out rough. Or should I say the night as neither Paul nor I slept well. I had another nightmare, woke up crying which awoke him and pretty much kept him up. Last night I had this dream where someone stole my car, totaled it, and ran off leaving me to take the blame. The last month has been bad with the insomnia and nightmares. I don’t know what to do about it.
I had a dream that a guy sexually assaulted my dog and pretty much left him to die bleeding, whimpering, and crying. But it was okay because somehow I took money from the guy. I awoke crying and sickened. That was the first and worst nightmare.
I had a dream that the end of the world was coming. A few minutes before it happened, terror struck the room in a premonition that something bad was going to happen. People started screaming, the lights buzzed and flickered, time went in slow motion, and then there was nothing.
I had a dream I was at the family reunion and no one knew my kids’ names. I had a dream I was sitting next to a lady who was laughing at and mocking my daughter because she had no idea she was mentally ill.
This morning I got a call from one of the AirBnB’s saying they needed to cancel our reservation next week due to remodeling. Why would they start a remodeling project at the end of tourist season?? I was immediately suspicious because I got a call from them a couple months back saying they double booked the cabin but not to worry they would take care of it. I pretty much spent all morning trying to find other accommodations.
I am already stressed about the trip. I’m afraid that my son and daughter at home will fight like they did the last couple of trips. My daughter Angel and I got into a fight about it this morning while we were discussing it. I’m afraid that my mom won’t do well on the trip. She is already mentioning she is feeling really anxious about going. I will be surprised if I don’t have to take her to the ER on this trip.
Arabella is also going on the trip for a graduation gift. I am worried about that as well. I don’t think she is doing well. She is sleeping all day and staying up all night. How is that going to work on this trip?? I think she slept 12 hours yesterday. I tried to wake her up at supper time but she kept sleeping. Not that she would eat with us anyway, but I keep asking. I recently read that wake sleep cycle dysregulation could be a serious health problem.
Arabella must’ve gotten up after I went to bed last night because I heard her come home at 5 AM from somewhere. She had to work at 10:30 AM. I had some errands to run but when I got back home she left for work. Shortly after her scheduled shift, she came back home and went back to bed. I asked her if everything was alright. She told me to leave her alone. I am still afraid she is going to lose her job. She has been late a lot lately especially for the morning shifts. She is refusing to talk to me.
I hope she has a psych eval soon. I have been noticing more troubling behavior. I know without a doubt she is borderline. I think she might be bipolar but I am questioning if she does have schizoaffective disorder like her psychiatrist mentioned before. My daughter is delusional. Now she thinks she is psychic. She has the ability to look at people’s pictures on Tinder and know things about them that they don’t even know. SHE PICKS UP VIBES OFF OF PICTURES ON TINDER. Do you know how terrifying that is as a parent???? She can tell if people are safe or not by looking at pictures. She goes out at night by herself when I am trying to sleep. I think I am a pretty good judge of character, but even I can be fooled sometimes after I’ve known someone for years. My God, I hope she doesn’t get murdered. But not to worry, she live streams on social media everywhere she goes.
The other troubling thing is that she is obese but thinks she is anorexic. She doesn’t eat with us. She sits in her room and binge eats junk food. She probably lost 15 lbs. when she got COVID. She said she needed to gain weight because she was getting way too thin. What??? She could lose 100 lbs. and people would not think she is thin. Not only that, but she is showing us and people who come to our house her stomach. She thinks she has 6 pack abs. She does not. The other day she chased her sister down as her sister was leaving in her car and had her stop to show her her abs. She thinks everyone is obsessed with her.
Arabella was always a bright girl, but I see her mental illness taking away all the dreams I had for her and it is horrifying. I really think it’s a matter of time before I need to put her on some kind of disability. She will never be able to take care of herself. She can’t even manage her medication and appointments. The only hope I have is if she can hold down this job. I’m grieving the loss of who she was, the bright girl with an even brighter future. It really sucks.
I’m trying to let go and live my own life. But how can I?? I feel like I’m drowning. Some days it just takes all I’ve got trying to keep my head above water.
Right before Paul left to go back to work away from home a couple nights, we had an argument about the COVID vaccine. We weren’t on the best of terms when he left. But nonetheless, he called me that night and everything seemed to be alright.
It was the next day that was a problem. I found out on Facebook that someone we knew was going to be at the same place Paul was with his clients. I commented on their status to say hi to Paul if they saw him. Now these people are really nice but are heavy drinkers. Part of the argument too was over Paul drinking. That evening the people we knew sent me blurry pictures of Paul saying they found him. He didn’t call me that night like he usually does. Now going through my head were a lot of scenarios. I thought perhaps something happened to him or maybe he met up with these people and had too much to drink.
While I was waiting, my mom called. She said that she and her siblings decided that no unvaccinated people were allowed to go to the family reunion in a couple of weeks. I was no longer welcome. I was angry but I didn’t know why. After I processed it I realized why. That excluded my brothers and I from attending as we were planning on doing. She could have suggested the plan that all unvaccinated people needed to get tested before attending and abstain if they were sick. They could wear masks. That has been the protocol for a lot of events. But I hardly think my mom would suggest something that someone else might not want even if it excludes her whole family. Maybe if Matt couldn’t go she would put up a fight. She never stood up for us with anything and that was triggering.
I was also angry because she is the one that drilled into us as kids that chemicals of any kind were bad. While our cohorts were guzzling down Kool-Aid, we weren’t allowed to drink the Kool-Aid. Artificial colors and flavors were of the devil. We didn’t have Twinkies or any of that stuff in our house. Fluoride was bad so we had to rinse our toothbrushes in peroxide and dip them in baking soda. I wasn’t allowed after awhile to take the green fluoride rinse that was wheeled into our classroom on the little carts about once a month. Just another way I was the weird one.
My mom took it a step further and also said what Matt ate caused him to be violent. He ate something with dairy and had a reaction that caused him to attack a stranger. We didn’t have milk or cheese often at our house. We weren’t allowed to drink it at school. Chemicals and allergens caused his hallucinations. We had to be extremely careful about food in our house. Because of the Agent Orange his body couldn’t handle any more chemicals. They ripped out the wood stove because wood causes allergies. We couldn’t have a Christmas tree because of allergies. Tree pollen caused violence. I literally freaked out once I got into the real world where people used chemicals liberally.
Imagine my surprise when my mom and Matt were the first in line for the shot.
Now she says I can’t be around the extended family if I’m not vaccinated? But it’s okay for her to live at our house.
I also realized not only do I have a lot of fear but I’ve lost a lot of hope. I thought that life would be back to normal by now. I thought if we did our lockdown and wore our masks everything would settle down. But I don’t see it ending anytime soon. Not only that but there are so many negative things happening in the world right now that it’s easy to feel discouraged. I’m sick of people arguing about who’s vaccinated and who’s not. Can’t we just agree that we don’t know when this is going to be over and everyone is doing the best they can? No, let’s fight about it because you didn’t make the decision I did and I’m right.
People are ending long term friendships and families are torn over this. When is it going to end?
Then my mom told me that my brothers were planning on getting together the following weekend to work on a huge project at the cabin. Again, this left me upset. They didn’t even talk to me about it and I know they will be complaining that I don’t do my fair share. I’m not going to be around when they want to do the project. We could’ve set up a time where I could help along with my husband, son and his buddies, daughter and future SIL. I could’ve offered up more manpower but they didn’t bother to ask me.
I didn’t sleep hardly at all that night. I was furious. I thought my marriage was in trouble. I entertained the thought of not seeing my family for another year of holidays. I started thinking seriously about leaving. I wanted to go to an area where no one knew my name. I was at a point where I just didn’t feel like I could take it anymore. I was done with COVID. I was done with being responsible for people and situations I have no control over.
I was still angry at my husband the next morning when he called. He apologized for worrying me. He said he got back late and didn’t want to wake me. He said he is so afraid that something is going to happen to me because I didn’t get vaccinated. I worry that his drinking is going to hurt him too. We were only worried about each other. Once I understood that, I felt a little better.
My mom called today. Her counselor told her that she backslid since she went back home. She hasn’t been staying with us since before Arabella’s grad party a couple weeks back. Paul and I were gone on our sailing trip then Arabella got COVID otherwise she would’ve been here. To be honest, I think it’s better for me when she is not here. She still doesn’t feel comfortable coming over because of COVID although I’m pretty sure she would be fine at this point. Then Paul and I have another sailing trip planned for next week so I told her maybe after Labor Day. She was distraught that we would be gone. She said she couldn’t handle being around my dad and she was too afraid to be alone up north. She was going to call her siblings to see if she could stay there.
COVID, Arabella got the shot and tested positive. She was really sick but responded well to the antibody infusion. My daughter Angel got sick too. She didn’t get the shot but had COVID a couple months back. She tested negative and a few days later lost her sense of taste and smell. So she quarantined along with her sister because she thought it could be a false negative. So it’s likely that Paul and I were exposed before and after we came back from our trip although we limited contact when we got home after we found out.
A couple days after we got home, we went in to be tested. Paul had no symptoms and was vaccinated. He tested negative. Two days after I got home I had a low grade temp, body aches, and this general feeling of malaise. I did not get the shot. I tested negative. I have no way of knowing this but all I can say is that I think my body was fighting it off. I started feeling better in 3 days. But was it a false negative? I decided to stay home and quarantine too just to be on the safe side.
But in all of this, I noticed something I haven’t noticed as much before until now. Fear. Sure, everyone was afraid when the virus first came out. We pretty much all did what we could. We did the lockdown. We rarely ventured out and if we did we had our masks on. We got tested if we felt sick and even if we didn’t. I’ve had 3 negative tests now.
Then the vaccine came out. Some people wanted to be first in line. Some people wanted nothing to do with it. I think this is where a lot of the trouble started. People started choosing sides. Right now the last I heard our state has a 50% vaccination rate. We are right down the middle and I feel it right down to our own house. People are hating and name calling. Now some medical facilities are forcing employees to get vaccinated. This has really caused people to be up in arms and protests. The fighting around here is more vicious than it was during the election. I don’t know how that is even possible.
What ever happened to my body, my choice? Oh wait, my bad, that is the slogan for another social issue. But seriously, if you want to get the shot get it. If you don’t, don’t. There is never going to be 100% compliance especially if it becomes forced. When there are elections 100% of the votes don’t go to one candidate. If you want to get the shot and trust the science, then trust your science. If you want to trust drinking bleach to protect you it’s pretty stupid but that’s your choice as well.
But as for me, I am afraid. I am afraid to get the shot because once I do it I can’t change my mind. I’m not saying that I will never get it but I want to see the research first. I want to make an informed choice backed by data. That’s my choice. I am not a trusting person. If I feel forced before I am ready I probably won’t.
I spent most of my life afraid. I grew up in an environment where we didn’t trust. My dad was a Vietnam vet. Ever since I was little I thought I had poison running through my veins called Agent Orange. I felt lucky because Matt had a lot more than I did and ended up the way he did. My mom was terrified of chemicals. We weren’t allowed to wear mosquito spray because it was poison. I remember staying at my cousin’s for a week one summer when I was about 12. Her mom sprayed us with mosquito spray even though I protested. I remember where we were. It was dusk and we were at a ball field by a playground. I thought I was going to die.
When the farmer’s sprayed chemicals we had an hour to evacuate the area in sheer panic. We had to pay attention to signs that the area was decontaminated such as several days would pass or there was a rainfall. We didn’t park the cars in the garage. Fresh newspapers weren’t allowed in the house because they smelled of chemicals. We did not spray our lawn or kill weeds with chemicals. That was poison that once we got in our system we would have a hard time getting out. I’ve never used weed killer. I wouldn’t even know how. I’ve realized over time that my mom was paranoid about these things. Other people don’t seem to be quite so concerned about it so that tells me that maybe all chemicals are not the devil. We lived in an extreme chemical free environment for Matt.
Then when my oldest daughter was born the study came out that linked autism with the MMR shot. My mom threw all the other theories away and jumped on that bandwagon. She didn’t want my kids to get vaccinated. I did get all my kids vaccinated but at my own pace. I especially waited on the MMR shot. Because what if it was true?
So as far as the COVID shot goes, I’m just not ready yet. Neither are my brothers or their families. No doubt COVID is a real threat. But I just don’t trust the shot yet. My mom, however, was the first in line to get the shot for herself and Matt. It’s as if she threw away everything she taught us and left us wondering if any of it was true. It’s hard to break myself from the fear that if I get the shot I will die. I’d rather take my chances.
But regardless of whether we are vaccinated or not, we all live in fear and that is not a good place to stay. I give it zero stars.
I’ve been reading a lot of memoirs and books (not to mention blogs) lately about people who struggle themselves or have family members with mental health issues. I have seen a common theme that I can’t disregard. One of the most important factors in recovery that I can’t deny is having parents who are supportive through this struggle.
If I think about it, the most difficult thing about my dad was not his porn addiction. It wasn’t his hoarding. It also wasn’t his lack of good hygiene. For the most part, he just didn’t care and that was a good thing. We tried hard to keep under his radar because we didn’t want him to notice us. Him noticing us involved bursts of explosive anger. He frequently told us how stupid we were or how we would never amount to anything. Our dreams, aspirations, and goals were ridiculous. He laughed when we cried.
The hardest part though for me was when he would taunt us with the things we were most afraid of. He amplified our fears. For example, he knew I was afraid of weeds. One of the few times he went in the lake with us as kids, he grabbed me and forced me to stand in the muck and weeds. I cried as he laughed at all of the things that slithered under the weeds that my feet could be touching. It was horrifying. I screamed and I cried for him to let go while he laughed. When he finally let go I ran for shore while he chucked weeds and even a dead fish at me while calling me names.
Then at times in my life when I am afraid, I wonder why God hates me. I wonder why I have trust issues that no one else seems to have. I wonder why I almost feel better at the thought of a distant God than one who hates me. Duh?
My relationship with my mom is much more complicated. She always expected too much from me, perfection. I felt this way since I can remember. But the first real memory of this for me was when my mom had me watch my three younger brothers in the lake by myself so she could spend time with my dad in the cabin. I was 6 and one of my brothers almost drowned. That’s too much responsibility.
My mom never confronted my dad for his poor behavior. But she would move heaven and earth for Matt. If someone gave him a wrong food just to be nice she would call the school and chew that person out. But when I had to go to school to try out for cheerleading while I had the flu and a high fever and I was the only person that didn’t make the team nothing was done.
My mom loved playing the martyr card. She got a lot of attention for having a special need’s child and an asshole husband. But she never did anything about it. She never gave Matt the skills to live without her. She never confronted my dad for being cruel to their children or anything else other wives would’ve left him for.
She also likes to manipulate, control, and guilt trip. She was jealous when I had friends because I was her best friend. She pulled me out of school from 8th through 10th grade where I lived in extreme isolation. She didn’t like the guy I was dating so she set me up with my ex without me knowing it. She made me feel guilty about even thinking about leaving the area to go to college or living my own life that didn’t revolve around helping her or caring for Matt. But the hard part is that I think my mom is a genuinely good person. She just saps the life out of everyone she is around with her negative energy.
My dad struggles with depression, my mom with anxiety. I can’t remember a time in my life before I started struggling with anxiety and depression. Not only was it modeled to me but there probably was a genetic component as well. I really could’ve used their help with my own struggles. I could’ve used their help when I was raising my own children. I could’ve used their help when I had to deal with my own children’s mental health struggles. But they always needed me to help them. It’s no wonder why I feel so alone. My husband doesn’t have any family either.
I guess maybe the moral of the story is that I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. If I needed to be a certain way such as untrusting in order to survive then maybe I shouldn’t shame myself for having a lack of trust. It might just take a little longer than most people to get there. If nothing else my husband and I, although neither one of us has had it, try to be supportive parents of our children when they are struggling with their own mental health issues. At one point I even thought that maybe they wouldn’t struggle if we were good enough parents. Unfortunately that’s not true. There’s hardly a sane person in the family. What did I expect??
But we can do our best to help them through. Besides, sane is boring anyway!! I’ll keep telling myself that.
I got invited into the popular group once in middle school. They gave me a handful of candy. I threw it away.
I could never bring them to my house anyway. The outside of the house was brick, big and beautiful. But inside was another story altogether. I couldn’t do slumber parties and sleepovers.
My dad roamed the house in his underwear. He answered the door that way. On occasion, he mowed the lawn that way. Sometimes he would even get the mail that way. The truth is that he was more interested in porn than his own wife and kids. He never hugged me, held me, or told me that everything would be okay. Maybe it was a good thing he had an aversion to touching me.
Our house was a hoarder’s paradise. Piles of magazines and papers littered all seating surfaces, our table, and floors. My mom hoarded food so there was always rotting food in the fridge. There were cupboards full of food, a fruit cellar, freezer upon freezer, refrigerator upon refrigerator. But we knew the newest food was always in bags on the dining room floor. There was always a stack of unwashed dishes on the counter full of you guessed it rotten food. The whiff of rot hit you as soon as you entered the door.
If that wasn’t bad enough, there was always pee on the bathroom floor and a dirty sink. My dad was a greasy guy in more ways than one. He rarely showered and criticized us for showering daily as if we were the strange ones. My dad didn’t brush his teeth but wiped them on the hand towel so I always had to strategically plan where to dry my hands in a spot I thought would be the cleanest. I don’t know how I ever survived the 8th grade hand washing compulsion.
Then there was my brother Matt. He was the school ‘retard’. That’s what my classmates called him anyway as they mocked his bizarre behaviors. He heard voices that told him to attack other children and he listened. He ruled our house and my mother bowed down to him. Anything for Matt. Never mind her three other kids.
We had crazy rules to live by for the sake of Matt. For example, no one could come into our house that was wearing perfume. That is why you could find me before middle school started ratting my hair in the middle school bathroom along with the girls that changed their clothes into outfits not allowed out of the house. My unscented hairspray had too much scent. For awhile we had to brush our teeth with peroxide and baking soda. We had to shut the windows if there was an east wind blowing auto exhaust fumes into our house. We didn’t have A/C back then. My mom even took down her brand new curtains because of the formaldehyde and hung old blankets on the windows. We had to take shelter if a neighbor was spraying his fields. The air purifier ran constantly. But none of those things stopped the voices or the attacks.
So you can see I had to reject the popular kids before they had the chance to reject me. I hand selected a few close friends but in the end I lost them anyway because of Matt.
I hated my life. I didn’t belong. To make matters worse, kids looked at the outside of my big brick house and thought I was richer than they were. In high school I drove a bright red Firebird. I was an exceptionally beautiful child voted most likely to be a supermodel by the graduating class which did nothing to help me fit in when boyfriends of potential friends flirted with me. People envied and hated me for the things they saw outside. Things that I didn’t have any control over. In a heartbeat I would’ve given it up to just have a normal healthy family.
The kids at school could never see the pain and sadness inside of me. After awhile I stopped caring about what people thought. I hated small talk and following all the stupid rules anyway. I said screw them and became a rebel, strong and unreachable. When I got hurt, I retreated to the corner and licked my wounds alone. I had to take care of myself because no one else really cared.
I am still the same person. I try to play the best game with the hand I’ve been dealt. On the good days, I thank God for all my blessings. On the bad days, I reject God because I feel he has rejected me. I can’t sing that God has been good to me all my life when I don’t believe it. Why do I feel like God hates me when I try hard to be a good person? I spent a lot of my life trying to be perfect but it didn’t matter.
What is the purpose of pointless suffering? How has it made me a better person? How does it help anybody else? There will always be a part of me that feels alone no matter how many people are around. Maybe God will always be off in the distance and uncaring just like everybody else. I can’t seem to reach him either. I could never find a way to connect to normal people. My life has been way too crazy. I’ve had very different life experiences.
I will never be the motivational speaker that others seem to be. I am not the one who will tell you my anxiety went away by praying more or that my depression was cured by positive thinking. I don’t have the answers, just more questions. I am a broken person that will never be put back together right. Before my brain finished developing I experienced trauma more than compassion and love. I didn’t have that one teacher who made a difference in my life.
What can I say? I have a lot of trust issues. Who else has my back better than me? How am I supposed to trust?
Maybe someday I’ll get it right. Maybe someday I won’t feel angry anymore. Maybe even someday I will trust. But one thing I do know for sure. Soon I will be telling the full story. And it’s far from boring…
It started this morning. A shifting in my mind like a veil torn away. A new anxiety replaces an old. Like no longer worrying about becoming impregnated once you are, but fearing what it will do. It doesn’t belong yet it’s a part of you.
The lines on the window appear darker, crisper, blunt while other ones smear bleak and blurry. It seems kind of funny somehow that what once was unchanging can look so different today.
My body aches. It lingers shortly then circles around. My knees. My head. My eyes. My back. Maybe I worked out too hard yesterday.
I’m so tired I could rest forever but there are things to do.
My temperature fluctuates between normal and a little warm. Maybe from sitting in the hot sun I console myself but don’t believe it to be true.
I sniffle, I sneeze, I cough. Just allergies, perhaps?
I decide to get tested. My daughter is sick. But I am not?
Why do I deny the truth? Is it the truth? I’ll know for sure in a couple of days.
- Summer! The last couple of days the weather has been perfect. If only we had this weather last week so we could cross Lake Michigan. But I’m not complaining. I’m going to hold on to these nice days as long as they last.
- Even though we weren’t able to cross the big lake, we were able to go to some nice places. The pictures turned out great and maybe just maybe I’ll share some later this week.
- Although Angel tested negative for COVID, both of my daughters lost their sense of taste and smell. But they are both feeling a lot better and so far no one else has gotten sick that I know of.
- Although I love to travel, it is nice to be back at home and sleeping in my own bed.
- It’s nice to have a week with nothing planned until the weekend. I decided to spend some time today in the pool and started a new book. I try to remind myself that we were still supposed to be on vacation when I feel like I am being lazy by taking it easy.
- I’m grateful to find out what I don’t want. Paul and I are thinking ahead to our 25th anniversary next year. I was thinking that it would be fun to sail somewhere beautiful for our summer anniversary. But after the frustration of not being able to do anything that we planned months in advance for this last trip I would rather do something else.
- I started reading My Sister’s Keeper. It’s a great piece of fiction. I wanted to read more memoirs like Educated which was phenomenal. I decided this fall I will start the second edition of my book. I want to read some good memoirs in the mental health genre in the meantime. I want to analyze them to see what makes them great (if they are). Really good books in that genre are hard to find. If anyone has suggestions for books especially dealing with family members with mental health struggles, please let me know.
- As much as I hate to admit it, I’m grateful to have a crazy life to write about.
- I’m grateful that I don’t have a gas leak in my house especially since after we left we had the rest of the household lose their sense of smell.
- After I couldn’t find any in the stores, I’m grateful that my husband was able to order goat macaroni and cheese online for me. No, it’s not made out of goats but it is dairy free and delicious.
- I’m grateful for my husband, who was a big part of the leadership for the Lake Michigan crossing cruise, for the difficult decisions he had to make in order to keep everyone safe. We had a total of 5 boats wanting to make the crossing. A majority of the sailors have never sailed across before including all five people on our boat. Some of the boats were small. The rest, besides our boat, had only one experienced sailor with either inexperienced crew, incapacitated crew, or passengers that were very nervous. In some ways I’m grateful we didn’t cross because I couldn’t relax with a sick child at home. I guess it wasn’t meant to be this year.
- I’m also very grateful for the people we tried to cross Lake Michigan with, especially those on our boat. Everyone was very kind and supportive after we received the news that our daughter has COVID. Some offered rides home. No one expressed anger or irritation that they could’ve been exposed through us or that we wanted to go home early. Everyone seemed to have the attitude that being sick or exposed was the new world we live in now. I’m grateful to be around a wonderful group of people with a similar hobby.
- I’m grateful that my best friend has a new grandbaby.