So I said I had a lot to say today. There are 4 posts in all - well 5 but this is just the "intro" since they posted in the reverse order that I wrote them in. So if anyone is truly interested in reading them, you might want to start with the one at the bottom first.
And if you do read them all and won't try to take my children away from me and have me declared insane then you are a friend indeed!!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Random thoughts on things
Note: I started this post back in June!!
I have to say I was surprised this morning to see a comment from anyone other than Shari and Tammy! I do completely appreciate the feedback and it was funny, last night I was thinking about how I really needed to clarify some things because I do make DP out to be the most horrible person. And I do have some responsibility and fault for how bad things have gotten. This is my private blog so of course all my venting is going to be slanted in my favor and of course my side only!
Let me first say that I grew up in a very dysfunctional environment. On the outside we looked like your typical middle class, two parents working, go to church on Sunday family. Behind those walls was something totally different. And as I've gotten older and more family secrets have come out, we were even more dysfunctional than I realized as a child.
Here's what I knew as a kid:
My dad was an only child and quite spoiled, although middle class. His mother had 7 miscarriages before he was born. My grandparents were born in the USA right after their parents came over from Quebec and the Azore Islands. They were poor and my grandfather had to go to work after 8th grade. My grandmother did complete high school. They worked in the textile mills. My grandmother died of cancer when I was 5. I remember her like it was yesterday. She will remain the only person in my life who has ever loved me unconditionally. My grandfather died when I was 15. I was told that my dad was often unkind and disrespectful to his parents. He was ashamed of them. Other relatives have always told me what good people they were and I remember that about them. My dad goofed off in high school, had to go to prep school to get into college and then did not do that well and never got a degree. He did go on to have a successful career with the same company for over 25 years.
My mom came from a pretty broken up family. My grandmother's parents divorced and the girls stayed with the mom and the boys went with the dad who remarried. He did quite well for himself but the mom remained poor and bitter. My grandmother did not grow up seeing her brothers or her dad even though they lived in the next town. My great grandmother was drunk and crazy and when my grandmother was 10 great grandmother tried to kill her with the butcher knife. My grandmother grew up and married an alcoholic and had a lot of kids and turned into an alcoholic herself. My mom grew up very poor. She met my dad when she was very young and they got married and had 2 kids - me and my brother. My mom did go to college and she was a teacher. She stayed home when we were born and eventually went back to work when my brother went to school.
My parents were never happy together and I always knew that. I remember the fighting and the tension. My mom was a perfectionist and very regimented. Nothing was ever good enough for her. She was very strict. We were middle class, nothing fancy, but the bills were paid, we had food and clothing. But on the inside we were living with someone scarred by her own childhood - she was the classic "adult child of an alcoholic" syndrome - if you know anything about that. She was the caretaker in her family. I never had a good relationship with my parents. I never understood my mom and why she was so strict with me. I was a good kid. But my mom controlled everything about my life from my clothes to my hairstyle to what I could and could not do. I did not date or go to parties or participate in any school activities because I had to take care of my little brother after school when she went back to work. If I got a B it was why didn't I get an A. I could go on and on but it is enough to say that it was an extremely emotionally abusive environment.
As an adult I learned:
When I was very small my dad did some bad things and my mom, grandmother and 2 aunts knew about it. Nothing was really ever done about it. My dad blamed my mom and on the advice of a priest my father was "forgiven" and life went on. Many, many years later my dad left my mom for a while and one aunt decided to tell the whole family about the bad things my dad did. This is when I found out that my dad was a pedophile and some memories of what he may have tried to do to me came back. There was a lot of ugliness at that time. I also found out that my mom's dad had done some bad things too. I found out during a heart to heart with my mom and Verna (we met with my mom to try to resolve some of the issues). I found out that my grandfather forced himself on my mom when she was younger because my grandmother had kicked him out of the bedroom after the 6th baby and refused to ever have sex with him again. I learned more too about the effects abuse as a child can have on people and although it doesn't make the bad stuff go away, it helps me to understand everyone in my family. I learned that I should have been protected as a child and that some bad stuff may have happened to me as well. I've been though years of therapy and have a lot of anger and distrust for the family that did not protect me. I am very much like my mother. In fact years ago I became friends with someone who is a therapist and when I told her my life story about 2 years after we met - she said to me "I always wondered who the alcoholic was in your family". She was very surprised it was my grandparents and not my parents for I too have the classic symptoms like my mom. It just goes to show the very profound effect my mom had on me.
As an adult: I've never had a lot of friends, never been good at relationships with people. Just like my mom. Growing up I never had to share a room, clothes, anything at all. I spent a lot of time in my room with the door closed. I always liked girls but was embarrassed by it. I did not have any good gay role models and I tried very hard to fit in and be normal. I went to an all girls high school and college where people were very into boys. In college I dated a bit when friends set me up and at 19 was the victim of date rape. Every guy I ever dated only wanted sex. I never dated anyone who was interested in me so that just added to my insecurities and feelings of worthlessness from childhood. I still had no good gay role models and refused to personally acknowledge my attraction to women. When I was 23 I met a guy who actually liked me enough to not try and have sex with me right away. He seemed safe and I thought he would protect me so I married him. It was what was expected of me and I just wanted to be like everyone else in the world and I wanted to have kids. Well he was not a bad person but he was lazy and immature and eventually, although we lived together and were married, we lived separate lives, had separate bedrooms, etc. We each did what we wanted to do and sometimes did things together. It was like being married to your best friend. It wasn't awful, but I wanted more. Through therapy for other issues I began to open up about my other feelings and was eventually able to accept and embrace the fact that I was gay. I have only been in 2 long term relationships with a woman, DP being the second one.
Written today: So fast forward to the present and I'm left with a mom I do feel sorry for yet am filled with so much anger that she left me at the risk of suffering the same horrible abuse she suffered. I'm left with a father I hate, who has Alzheimer's now and who I never had the strength to confront and now it's too late. The same will be true of my mom because all she wants now is to say poor me. She'll never own the fact that she subjected her children to extreme danger never mind all the other kids my father ever got near. I hate my whole family, yet feel some pity for them because they are sick. It's so funny, from the outside we are normal. But when you look deep, we are the stuff of Jerry Springer shows. I'm so embarrassed by it. I'm not my parents, yet I feel I wear the scarlet letter of my family. I feel used and damaged and broken. And so long as my family stays in my life, I will be held captive by the sins of the past. I really feel that the only way to truly live and heal and be happy is to break free. And guilt, some sick, twisted, Catholic school girl, honor thy father and thy mother, crap that was force fed into my head for a lifetime (3rd grade through college and Sunday school during the 3 years I was not in Catholic school) keeps me from truly being free.
And the sad thing is that it is also going to kill my relationship with DP because if I could just let go and live some of our problems would become non-issues. Of course other problems would still be there. I'm not so stupid as to think that life would be perfect "if I could only change this one thing". But it would allow me to finally live and breath free and unchained and that would help me to be a better partner. Because believe me when I say that so much of my life force is sucked up by this past that haunts me.
So wow, there, I did it. I've been saying for a long time that I want my blog to be an honest place. That I don't want to care if people read it and know my horror. I learned in therapy that I will never get better if I am not honest with myself. And this is what this blog is. If it shocks you or makes you think I am a bad person, I can't worry about that. I'm not writing to an audience. I'm writing to myself. In my dreams this would be a happy blog, one that anyone could read. But maybe that blog will come later. The one where I post the happy family pictures and updates with funny little stories. But this blog, this is my heart and soul. This is where I hurt and heal.
I have to say I was surprised this morning to see a comment from anyone other than Shari and Tammy! I do completely appreciate the feedback and it was funny, last night I was thinking about how I really needed to clarify some things because I do make DP out to be the most horrible person. And I do have some responsibility and fault for how bad things have gotten. This is my private blog so of course all my venting is going to be slanted in my favor and of course my side only!
Let me first say that I grew up in a very dysfunctional environment. On the outside we looked like your typical middle class, two parents working, go to church on Sunday family. Behind those walls was something totally different. And as I've gotten older and more family secrets have come out, we were even more dysfunctional than I realized as a child.
Here's what I knew as a kid:
My dad was an only child and quite spoiled, although middle class. His mother had 7 miscarriages before he was born. My grandparents were born in the USA right after their parents came over from Quebec and the Azore Islands. They were poor and my grandfather had to go to work after 8th grade. My grandmother did complete high school. They worked in the textile mills. My grandmother died of cancer when I was 5. I remember her like it was yesterday. She will remain the only person in my life who has ever loved me unconditionally. My grandfather died when I was 15. I was told that my dad was often unkind and disrespectful to his parents. He was ashamed of them. Other relatives have always told me what good people they were and I remember that about them. My dad goofed off in high school, had to go to prep school to get into college and then did not do that well and never got a degree. He did go on to have a successful career with the same company for over 25 years.
My mom came from a pretty broken up family. My grandmother's parents divorced and the girls stayed with the mom and the boys went with the dad who remarried. He did quite well for himself but the mom remained poor and bitter. My grandmother did not grow up seeing her brothers or her dad even though they lived in the next town. My great grandmother was drunk and crazy and when my grandmother was 10 great grandmother tried to kill her with the butcher knife. My grandmother grew up and married an alcoholic and had a lot of kids and turned into an alcoholic herself. My mom grew up very poor. She met my dad when she was very young and they got married and had 2 kids - me and my brother. My mom did go to college and she was a teacher. She stayed home when we were born and eventually went back to work when my brother went to school.
My parents were never happy together and I always knew that. I remember the fighting and the tension. My mom was a perfectionist and very regimented. Nothing was ever good enough for her. She was very strict. We were middle class, nothing fancy, but the bills were paid, we had food and clothing. But on the inside we were living with someone scarred by her own childhood - she was the classic "adult child of an alcoholic" syndrome - if you know anything about that. She was the caretaker in her family. I never had a good relationship with my parents. I never understood my mom and why she was so strict with me. I was a good kid. But my mom controlled everything about my life from my clothes to my hairstyle to what I could and could not do. I did not date or go to parties or participate in any school activities because I had to take care of my little brother after school when she went back to work. If I got a B it was why didn't I get an A. I could go on and on but it is enough to say that it was an extremely emotionally abusive environment.
As an adult I learned:
When I was very small my dad did some bad things and my mom, grandmother and 2 aunts knew about it. Nothing was really ever done about it. My dad blamed my mom and on the advice of a priest my father was "forgiven" and life went on. Many, many years later my dad left my mom for a while and one aunt decided to tell the whole family about the bad things my dad did. This is when I found out that my dad was a pedophile and some memories of what he may have tried to do to me came back. There was a lot of ugliness at that time. I also found out that my mom's dad had done some bad things too. I found out during a heart to heart with my mom and Verna (we met with my mom to try to resolve some of the issues). I found out that my grandfather forced himself on my mom when she was younger because my grandmother had kicked him out of the bedroom after the 6th baby and refused to ever have sex with him again. I learned more too about the effects abuse as a child can have on people and although it doesn't make the bad stuff go away, it helps me to understand everyone in my family. I learned that I should have been protected as a child and that some bad stuff may have happened to me as well. I've been though years of therapy and have a lot of anger and distrust for the family that did not protect me. I am very much like my mother. In fact years ago I became friends with someone who is a therapist and when I told her my life story about 2 years after we met - she said to me "I always wondered who the alcoholic was in your family". She was very surprised it was my grandparents and not my parents for I too have the classic symptoms like my mom. It just goes to show the very profound effect my mom had on me.
As an adult: I've never had a lot of friends, never been good at relationships with people. Just like my mom. Growing up I never had to share a room, clothes, anything at all. I spent a lot of time in my room with the door closed. I always liked girls but was embarrassed by it. I did not have any good gay role models and I tried very hard to fit in and be normal. I went to an all girls high school and college where people were very into boys. In college I dated a bit when friends set me up and at 19 was the victim of date rape. Every guy I ever dated only wanted sex. I never dated anyone who was interested in me so that just added to my insecurities and feelings of worthlessness from childhood. I still had no good gay role models and refused to personally acknowledge my attraction to women. When I was 23 I met a guy who actually liked me enough to not try and have sex with me right away. He seemed safe and I thought he would protect me so I married him. It was what was expected of me and I just wanted to be like everyone else in the world and I wanted to have kids. Well he was not a bad person but he was lazy and immature and eventually, although we lived together and were married, we lived separate lives, had separate bedrooms, etc. We each did what we wanted to do and sometimes did things together. It was like being married to your best friend. It wasn't awful, but I wanted more. Through therapy for other issues I began to open up about my other feelings and was eventually able to accept and embrace the fact that I was gay. I have only been in 2 long term relationships with a woman, DP being the second one.
Written today: So fast forward to the present and I'm left with a mom I do feel sorry for yet am filled with so much anger that she left me at the risk of suffering the same horrible abuse she suffered. I'm left with a father I hate, who has Alzheimer's now and who I never had the strength to confront and now it's too late. The same will be true of my mom because all she wants now is to say poor me. She'll never own the fact that she subjected her children to extreme danger never mind all the other kids my father ever got near. I hate my whole family, yet feel some pity for them because they are sick. It's so funny, from the outside we are normal. But when you look deep, we are the stuff of Jerry Springer shows. I'm so embarrassed by it. I'm not my parents, yet I feel I wear the scarlet letter of my family. I feel used and damaged and broken. And so long as my family stays in my life, I will be held captive by the sins of the past. I really feel that the only way to truly live and heal and be happy is to break free. And guilt, some sick, twisted, Catholic school girl, honor thy father and thy mother, crap that was force fed into my head for a lifetime (3rd grade through college and Sunday school during the 3 years I was not in Catholic school) keeps me from truly being free.
And the sad thing is that it is also going to kill my relationship with DP because if I could just let go and live some of our problems would become non-issues. Of course other problems would still be there. I'm not so stupid as to think that life would be perfect "if I could only change this one thing". But it would allow me to finally live and breath free and unchained and that would help me to be a better partner. Because believe me when I say that so much of my life force is sucked up by this past that haunts me.
So wow, there, I did it. I've been saying for a long time that I want my blog to be an honest place. That I don't want to care if people read it and know my horror. I learned in therapy that I will never get better if I am not honest with myself. And this is what this blog is. If it shocks you or makes you think I am a bad person, I can't worry about that. I'm not writing to an audience. I'm writing to myself. In my dreams this would be a happy blog, one that anyone could read. But maybe that blog will come later. The one where I post the happy family pictures and updates with funny little stories. But this blog, this is my heart and soul. This is where I hurt and heal.
Evil Thoughts
I have been having a lot of evil thoughts lately and I'm feeling really guilty about it. I know God is going to punish me for it. The situation with my family is never going to improve. DP asked me the other day if I was feeling some relief from not having talked to or seen my mom in a while. My aunt was here again and we could not see her due to us all being sick and me leaving for the conference. Well, I told DP, no I don't feel better because it's always mixed emotions. I do feel better in one sense about not having to deal with my mom. But then I feel guilty for being a bad daughter, or I feel sad and depressed that I can't have a normal family, or I feel angry that DP can't just "put up and shut up" when it comes to my family. And then of course I live on pins and needles, dreading the moment she is going to call and want to see us, and dreading having to deal with it and DP's attitude about it.
So lately I've been thinking a lot how in some ways I just wish my parents were dead. Then I'd only have to deal with the guilt of being happy they are gone.
God is going to punish me, He really is. Why of why did I have to suffer the Catholic indoctrination of guilt?
And then there are the dogs. I've written about this before. When the big boys started fighting we had to separate them. I realized yesterday that it's been over 3 years of this routine. I conceived DS in October 2005 and we were already on the separation routine. Three years. I don't know how much longer I can take it. Six dogs, each one living separate, each one being walked to and from the kennels each day, each one let out on a lead into the back yard, alone and one at a time. Poop every day times 6 and usually twice a day per dog. It's become no life for any of us. Living in a 10 x 10 kennel by day and (albeit the largest on the market and bigger than they each need and bigger than the recommended guidelines) sleeping at night in a crate. And if it's bad weather being in that crate 24/7 except for when I let each into the back yard to go potty and stretch. Getting up earlier in the morning because the dog routine takes at least 30 minutes. Having no time to play with them because I can't possibly have the time to play individually with each of the 6 dogs every day. But none are adoptable. Gigi hates cats, men, other small animals, kids, and any dog she has ever met except for Sydney. Sydney hates random people and will bite if he decides he doesn't like you. He must be the alpha male but will submit to an alpha female. He also hates black people which makes me sad that I have a racist dog. He's also suffered his whole life from chronic ear problems and skin problems. Dakota must also be the alpha male and he's destructive if he gets bored. He and Sydney will both pee in the house if they get mad. He also has a nervous problem and licks his paws and barks at his dishes. Max has major anxiety issues and becomes very destructive. He's eaten a window sill, jumped through screens, ate through the laundry room door because he somehow got himself closed up in there, tore up the vinyl on the laundry room floor and attempted to chew through 2 door frames. Molly digs at everything, the yard, the floor, the carpet. She has also torn up some flooring. Sasha, the little one, has nervous habits too and she barks and barks and barks until you are ready to go insane. They would all need super special homes and would probably need to be the only animal there. And only Molly and Max can be trusted with kids.
So lately I've been wishing that they would just quietly pass away too. Gigi and Sydney are 8-9 now and I'm not going to be able to afford major vet care as they age and fall ill. Already, without the rescue's help any more I can't afford heart worm and soon the basic vet care will be too much. I'm on an monthly plan and it's just over $100 a month for all of them. While still a good deal, it is getting harder and harder to care for them.
But here's where my guilt comes in again. I thought this is what I wanted to do so I committed to caring for them. Since it will be almost impossible to find homes for them the only other option is to take them to the county pound where they will be put to sleep. How can I do that? I have to see them to their natural end as best I can. And then I am done. I know now, a little too late, that animal rescue of more than one at a time, is not for me.
And to make matters worse DP would go to the poor house for them. Is it too cruel to say we should have a DNR or Living Will for the dogs? No heroic efforts? If they get sick then let them go? DP thinks I'm cruel and barbaric. I say I'm just being realistic.
I've been working on a post about my family issues. I may post it today just so everyone can realize just how much is on my shoulders. I learned to say no and stand up for some things a little too late and now I carry a great deal of baggage around with me.
But time will evolve these things away and one day I will be free.
So lately I've been thinking a lot how in some ways I just wish my parents were dead. Then I'd only have to deal with the guilt of being happy they are gone.
God is going to punish me, He really is. Why of why did I have to suffer the Catholic indoctrination of guilt?
And then there are the dogs. I've written about this before. When the big boys started fighting we had to separate them. I realized yesterday that it's been over 3 years of this routine. I conceived DS in October 2005 and we were already on the separation routine. Three years. I don't know how much longer I can take it. Six dogs, each one living separate, each one being walked to and from the kennels each day, each one let out on a lead into the back yard, alone and one at a time. Poop every day times 6 and usually twice a day per dog. It's become no life for any of us. Living in a 10 x 10 kennel by day and (albeit the largest on the market and bigger than they each need and bigger than the recommended guidelines) sleeping at night in a crate. And if it's bad weather being in that crate 24/7 except for when I let each into the back yard to go potty and stretch. Getting up earlier in the morning because the dog routine takes at least 30 minutes. Having no time to play with them because I can't possibly have the time to play individually with each of the 6 dogs every day. But none are adoptable. Gigi hates cats, men, other small animals, kids, and any dog she has ever met except for Sydney. Sydney hates random people and will bite if he decides he doesn't like you. He must be the alpha male but will submit to an alpha female. He also hates black people which makes me sad that I have a racist dog. He's also suffered his whole life from chronic ear problems and skin problems. Dakota must also be the alpha male and he's destructive if he gets bored. He and Sydney will both pee in the house if they get mad. He also has a nervous problem and licks his paws and barks at his dishes. Max has major anxiety issues and becomes very destructive. He's eaten a window sill, jumped through screens, ate through the laundry room door because he somehow got himself closed up in there, tore up the vinyl on the laundry room floor and attempted to chew through 2 door frames. Molly digs at everything, the yard, the floor, the carpet. She has also torn up some flooring. Sasha, the little one, has nervous habits too and she barks and barks and barks until you are ready to go insane. They would all need super special homes and would probably need to be the only animal there. And only Molly and Max can be trusted with kids.
So lately I've been wishing that they would just quietly pass away too. Gigi and Sydney are 8-9 now and I'm not going to be able to afford major vet care as they age and fall ill. Already, without the rescue's help any more I can't afford heart worm and soon the basic vet care will be too much. I'm on an monthly plan and it's just over $100 a month for all of them. While still a good deal, it is getting harder and harder to care for them.
But here's where my guilt comes in again. I thought this is what I wanted to do so I committed to caring for them. Since it will be almost impossible to find homes for them the only other option is to take them to the county pound where they will be put to sleep. How can I do that? I have to see them to their natural end as best I can. And then I am done. I know now, a little too late, that animal rescue of more than one at a time, is not for me.
And to make matters worse DP would go to the poor house for them. Is it too cruel to say we should have a DNR or Living Will for the dogs? No heroic efforts? If they get sick then let them go? DP thinks I'm cruel and barbaric. I say I'm just being realistic.
I've been working on a post about my family issues. I may post it today just so everyone can realize just how much is on my shoulders. I learned to say no and stand up for some things a little too late and now I carry a great deal of baggage around with me.
But time will evolve these things away and one day I will be free.
Depression
I'm really worried about what effect this is going to have on the baby inside me. I felt great with DS. But with this baby I'm feeling pretty awful emotionally. There is a lot of stress and I am truly questioning my sanity of wanting to bring another child into this world.
It's funny though, this time around, I do have a hope for the future. I think it is because I'm finally learning to live with my depression. I was diagnosed with dysthymia with periods of double depression. I've tried years of therapy - very helpful and medication - not so helpful. Oh and PMDD - I have that too. So for the most part I'm blue all the time - I don't respond well to medication. Then I have these periods of major depression. But you know what, I always come out of them. And I think that's what's different this time. In the beginning I didn't know what it was like to come out of it. This time I know it can be better again. I just have to ride it out. And I am stronger this time. I still think about taking my son and running away. But I don't think about killing myself like I did in my teens and 20's.
So that's progress right? It means that I'm finally learning to manage my illness. Well that's what I'm telling myself. It works for me!
It's funny though, this time around, I do have a hope for the future. I think it is because I'm finally learning to live with my depression. I was diagnosed with dysthymia with periods of double depression. I've tried years of therapy - very helpful and medication - not so helpful. Oh and PMDD - I have that too. So for the most part I'm blue all the time - I don't respond well to medication. Then I have these periods of major depression. But you know what, I always come out of them. And I think that's what's different this time. In the beginning I didn't know what it was like to come out of it. This time I know it can be better again. I just have to ride it out. And I am stronger this time. I still think about taking my son and running away. But I don't think about killing myself like I did in my teens and 20's.
So that's progress right? It means that I'm finally learning to manage my illness. Well that's what I'm telling myself. It works for me!
My life is the lesser of 2 evils
I have a lot to say today so be prepared for multiple posts. First of all, I have to get back on the ball at work so I am going to limit my blog reading time to the first 1/2 hour of the day and my posting time to a 1/2 hour at lunch. After today of course since I have so much to say - lol.
So I was reading my new reader's - hi Cindy! - blog and she was having a debate with someone about our current presidential candidates. I didn't read all the comments but basically she was talking about the lesser of two evils and DP and I discuss the same thing almost every day. DP thinks Obama is the Antichrist as well and she's one of those rare gay Republicans - gasp! I still don't know what I, a Massachusetts born, Kennedy-loving, liberal Democratic, am doing with her. There's a group of gay Republicans. I usually forget the real name and call them the Argyle Sweater Republicans but I think it's really Log Cabin or something like that. As usual, I digress. So Hillary was my girl. She wasn't perfect, but there was something about her that I really liked. There is no way I am going to vote for Obama. I don't trust him. He sneers when he smiles. So that leaves me with McCain? I've been through the whole lesser of two evils argument. I thought, why vote? They both suck. But then I realized that if I truly don't want Obama, I have to give my vote to McCain. Because the truth of the matter is, we are going to get one of them, like it or not. It's a sad, sad state of affairs our country. Europe looks better and better all the time. I've always wanted to live in France or Italy...
So that all got me thinking about my relationship with DP and everything that is wrong and my fear of being alone. BIL's death made me think about it even more. And I realized how sad that I am choosing the lesser of two evils for my life. Life with DP is hard and I'm most likely suffering verbal and emotional abuse that I don't always deserve. But somehow, to me, being alone would be far worse. And I'm not kidding when I say this is the end of the relationship road for me. What's worse about being alone? The feeling of loneliness is overwhelming to me. I don't have the love of my family - don't really want it anymore either. I guess I need what little bit I can get from DP. And it's sad, really. I wish I were stronger.
I did nothing last night beyond cleaning up after dinner. I'm so damn tired and the baby was up twice last night. Cindy, thanks for the suggestions. They would be great except for the fact that DP doesn't see her "job" as being the one to do everything at home. She resents having to be the cook, the gardener, the maid and the nanny - as she puts it. She just doesn't see it. And she complains how she can't get anything done unless DS naps because he has to be watched constantly since he is in to everything. She's a hypocrite, simple and true. She gets on me for being fat and lazy and depressed, but she's the same. And yes, she's the same with the money as your beloved. But I'm going to force her to take over the finances because I want her to see how little we have. I'm tired of saying no and dealing with the attitude and pouting and being the bad guy. But most of all I'm tired of the stress. So this way she can see how it is. She won't save - doesn't believe in that - can't take it with us when we die she says. But that's fine. She's overweight, has HBP, a heart condition and smokes 2 packs a day. I don't think she'll be around when I'm worrying about retirement. Yikes, I didn't just say that - I'm in a bad mood today. I have a small retirement investment from my first job and I pay into the state system here so I think I'll be okay. Heck I'm the one who can live on nothing so if I do end up alone one day, I'll be okay.
So my world is now reduced to deciding between the lesser of two evils. Depression is an ugly thing. It forces me to have such a negative outlook, to lose all hope of anything good. I'll choose McCain and I'll choose DP because with them I'll suffer a little less than I would with Obama and loneliness.
So I was reading my new reader's - hi Cindy! - blog and she was having a debate with someone about our current presidential candidates. I didn't read all the comments but basically she was talking about the lesser of two evils and DP and I discuss the same thing almost every day. DP thinks Obama is the Antichrist as well and she's one of those rare gay Republicans - gasp! I still don't know what I, a Massachusetts born, Kennedy-loving, liberal Democratic, am doing with her. There's a group of gay Republicans. I usually forget the real name and call them the Argyle Sweater Republicans but I think it's really Log Cabin or something like that. As usual, I digress. So Hillary was my girl. She wasn't perfect, but there was something about her that I really liked. There is no way I am going to vote for Obama. I don't trust him. He sneers when he smiles. So that leaves me with McCain? I've been through the whole lesser of two evils argument. I thought, why vote? They both suck. But then I realized that if I truly don't want Obama, I have to give my vote to McCain. Because the truth of the matter is, we are going to get one of them, like it or not. It's a sad, sad state of affairs our country. Europe looks better and better all the time. I've always wanted to live in France or Italy...
So that all got me thinking about my relationship with DP and everything that is wrong and my fear of being alone. BIL's death made me think about it even more. And I realized how sad that I am choosing the lesser of two evils for my life. Life with DP is hard and I'm most likely suffering verbal and emotional abuse that I don't always deserve. But somehow, to me, being alone would be far worse. And I'm not kidding when I say this is the end of the relationship road for me. What's worse about being alone? The feeling of loneliness is overwhelming to me. I don't have the love of my family - don't really want it anymore either. I guess I need what little bit I can get from DP. And it's sad, really. I wish I were stronger.
I did nothing last night beyond cleaning up after dinner. I'm so damn tired and the baby was up twice last night. Cindy, thanks for the suggestions. They would be great except for the fact that DP doesn't see her "job" as being the one to do everything at home. She resents having to be the cook, the gardener, the maid and the nanny - as she puts it. She just doesn't see it. And she complains how she can't get anything done unless DS naps because he has to be watched constantly since he is in to everything. She's a hypocrite, simple and true. She gets on me for being fat and lazy and depressed, but she's the same. And yes, she's the same with the money as your beloved. But I'm going to force her to take over the finances because I want her to see how little we have. I'm tired of saying no and dealing with the attitude and pouting and being the bad guy. But most of all I'm tired of the stress. So this way she can see how it is. She won't save - doesn't believe in that - can't take it with us when we die she says. But that's fine. She's overweight, has HBP, a heart condition and smokes 2 packs a day. I don't think she'll be around when I'm worrying about retirement. Yikes, I didn't just say that - I'm in a bad mood today. I have a small retirement investment from my first job and I pay into the state system here so I think I'll be okay. Heck I'm the one who can live on nothing so if I do end up alone one day, I'll be okay.
So my world is now reduced to deciding between the lesser of two evils. Depression is an ugly thing. It forces me to have such a negative outlook, to lose all hope of anything good. I'll choose McCain and I'll choose DP because with them I'll suffer a little less than I would with Obama and loneliness.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Sad news
DP's brother-in-law died yesterday from liver cancer. He suffered greatly at the end and now he is at peace. It has been very hard and we spent most of the day moping around the house, very depressed, doing only what we had to do to care for DS and the animals. I don't think I even brushed my teeth and I cried all day. The couple of days before had been pretty good. No fighting and some nice little family outings with DS. But then yesterday I felt more depressed than I have in ages. And not long ago, I wrote the same thing. But yesterday was worse. I think it has hit me hard because biologically I am carrying BIL's grandchild. A child he will never know. And then I cried because DP and her family are so close and my family, well I hate them and this evil part of me wishes my parents were already gone so I didn't have to deal with them. And DP is depressed, worse than she's been in years. She actually said we were crazy to bring another child into the world with the financial stress we are under. She wants to give our children better than we had. Well of course you can't live on just love, but if we make some adjustments we could live on store brand and clothes from Walmart! Hell I'm going to head over to Goodwill to look for some size 22's to get me through until I'm forced to wear maternity clothes and I'm getting a few borrowed outfits from a plus size friend at work who is about to deliver. I'm not too proud to beg! But DP is I'm afraid. And in a way I understand. I don't want my children to grow up hearing, like I did, sorry there's no money for that. But somehow I think this is a call to teach that there is more to life than things. DP and I both grew up poor, but somehow we did not turn out the same.
I dragged my butt to work today simply because I do not have the time to take. Based on my calculations, if I use no time between now and April, I will have 4 weeks. Reality says I'll go early due to my high risk and that I'll never be able to comp all my appointments, even with working from home. I have no idea how much time to even hope for through the shared leave program. I'm hoping my van pool family will find it in their hearts to give a whole 8 hours each. That would give me 2 more weeks. I'm trying not to worry about it. It's in God's hands. Only He knows if my water will break at 31 weeks again. At least I have some short term disability, it's not great, but if we stock up on diapers and pay what we can over the next few months, 60% salary will at least pay the major bills. And hopefully a good tax refund can be had before the baby is born to pay off any credit card use between now and then.
On a good note, we did qualify for legal aid to help fight for DP's benefits. The next hurdle is getting the local office to take the case and an extension on the hearing. I should know the results in the next day or two. And we are getting hooked up with disability services to hopefully get some mental health services for DP. I'm beginning to be very fearful of her being with DS all day. I know he's not in any danger so to speak, but I fear he's not getting the activity and stimulation he needs because DP is unable to leave the house alone these days. The pressure on me is overwhelming. I have all I can do to get to work, take care of this baby inside me, and get through basic chores at home each night. I need DP to be stronger.
Was I so selfish to want another baby? Am I going to be able to get it together and be a good parent to 2 children? I'm feeling very guilty right now for all the better moms out there who are still waiting. I'm having too many feelings right now to even get it all out.
And I'm not focused on work. I'm getting behind in everything. I've got to pull it together. I can't ruin this life!
I dragged my butt to work today simply because I do not have the time to take. Based on my calculations, if I use no time between now and April, I will have 4 weeks. Reality says I'll go early due to my high risk and that I'll never be able to comp all my appointments, even with working from home. I have no idea how much time to even hope for through the shared leave program. I'm hoping my van pool family will find it in their hearts to give a whole 8 hours each. That would give me 2 more weeks. I'm trying not to worry about it. It's in God's hands. Only He knows if my water will break at 31 weeks again. At least I have some short term disability, it's not great, but if we stock up on diapers and pay what we can over the next few months, 60% salary will at least pay the major bills. And hopefully a good tax refund can be had before the baby is born to pay off any credit card use between now and then.
On a good note, we did qualify for legal aid to help fight for DP's benefits. The next hurdle is getting the local office to take the case and an extension on the hearing. I should know the results in the next day or two. And we are getting hooked up with disability services to hopefully get some mental health services for DP. I'm beginning to be very fearful of her being with DS all day. I know he's not in any danger so to speak, but I fear he's not getting the activity and stimulation he needs because DP is unable to leave the house alone these days. The pressure on me is overwhelming. I have all I can do to get to work, take care of this baby inside me, and get through basic chores at home each night. I need DP to be stronger.
Was I so selfish to want another baby? Am I going to be able to get it together and be a good parent to 2 children? I'm feeling very guilty right now for all the better moms out there who are still waiting. I'm having too many feelings right now to even get it all out.
And I'm not focused on work. I'm getting behind in everything. I've got to pull it together. I can't ruin this life!
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Back in town
I've just come back from a lovely conference in Florida! I thought I would have lots of time to blog while I was in my hotel room, but just before I left we got a notice about budget cuts so I decided not to spend money on Internet in my room and just used the free service provided in the main conference room in between sessions.
So just for a quick update:
DP took the no money situation very well and we managed to do the shopping for the week on $54. I was very proud of her! She's also agreed to take over the finances after this month. We do have some other stresses on the horizon. Social security called and wants to meet with her in person. We are battling them on an overpayment claim they have and now we think we are going to have to get a lawyer. They paid her for some months they say she was not entitled to and we disagree on 2 of those months and on the other months they told us they would be monitoring and reducing her payment if necessary (she tried to work for a short time) and when they didn't and sent us a letter saying they were not cutting her benefits we didn't think anything of it. Now THREE years later they say they made a mistake. Anyway, she gets social security for her heart condition. I don't know how I'll pay for an attorney. I have the day off tomorrow and we're going to see if the state legal aid will take her case. Since we are not married, they can't count my income. I don't know what else to do.
The conference was good and I learned a lot and I LOVE Florida. We want to move there. DS is up to lots of 2 year old trouble and poor DP is worn out. I had to travel on Sunday so I'm getting a comp day tomorrow - I have the best boss.
The pregnancy is going along well. The nausea and fatigue are easing up little by little, although heartburn is setting in!
I won't be around again until next week, but once I get caught up at work I'll try to post more!
So just for a quick update:
DP took the no money situation very well and we managed to do the shopping for the week on $54. I was very proud of her! She's also agreed to take over the finances after this month. We do have some other stresses on the horizon. Social security called and wants to meet with her in person. We are battling them on an overpayment claim they have and now we think we are going to have to get a lawyer. They paid her for some months they say she was not entitled to and we disagree on 2 of those months and on the other months they told us they would be monitoring and reducing her payment if necessary (she tried to work for a short time) and when they didn't and sent us a letter saying they were not cutting her benefits we didn't think anything of it. Now THREE years later they say they made a mistake. Anyway, she gets social security for her heart condition. I don't know how I'll pay for an attorney. I have the day off tomorrow and we're going to see if the state legal aid will take her case. Since we are not married, they can't count my income. I don't know what else to do.
The conference was good and I learned a lot and I LOVE Florida. We want to move there. DS is up to lots of 2 year old trouble and poor DP is worn out. I had to travel on Sunday so I'm getting a comp day tomorrow - I have the best boss.
The pregnancy is going along well. The nausea and fatigue are easing up little by little, although heartburn is setting in!
I won't be around again until next week, but once I get caught up at work I'll try to post more!
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