Separation anxiety

One thing I can't get over lately, no matter how hard I try, is how distant my family has become.  Even if I tell myself it's something I can't change, that there is only so much I can do and I've done it all, I feel distraught, even grief-stricken over it.  We used to be close, and now that period in our lives is over.

I remember family vacations, times when we all came together to overcome adversity, and closeness that came with time.  I remember my mother coming with me to my ultrasound appointment.  We went shopping for maternity clothes.  She stayed with me in the hospital while I waited for my son to be born.  Then . . .

That was it.  She was gone.  She just started separating herself from my life.  It happened almost suddenly.  I could sense that a large part of it was that I had a baby, but I didn't know why she seemed to leave, and she wouldn't tell me.  And from that time on, she changed dramatically.  She has never been what I would call a warm and fuzzy person, or an open book, but we had our moments.  Then she just had a nonchalant quality about my visits, seemed critical of my parenting, and has even told me that she thinks my son is spoiled and tries to annoy her on purpose.  I don't get it.  He's a nerdy boy, quiet, and sensitive.  I don't see how she could get that from his actions, honestly.  And no one else tells me that, just her.  It hurts deeply.

Somehow that has affected the relationships I have with everyone in my family.  My sister (who lives with her) might agree just to have something to talk about with her, or who knows.  She and I have always been the closest, and now she's almost a stranger.  My other sister, who married and lives nearby, almost never visited me or allowed me to visit once my son was born because he would damage their collectibles, they said.  Even when we moved out of my old hometown, they rarely visited, and when they did it was only for a couple of hours and they would make the long drive home.

The only person to really make an effort to stay in my life is my closest sister.  When we feel close, we're close.  When we're separate, we're still the closest of my family.  I just don't have as much in common with her as I once did, and I see her as much younger than me psychologically, since I've grown a lot as a result of my life's decisions (comparatively).  I try to have a relationship with my father.  At least he seems to want one, but finances keep us apart, and his anxiety.  It's a long story.  And the good relationship I once had with my in-laws is stretching thinner as health problems plague them and change their personalities.  We've all changed, and in ways that have drawn us further and further apart.  And in all of that chaos, I've moved geographically farther apart.

Sometimes my father blames me for what he sees as a breakdown in my sister's mental state.  "She was better when you were here," he'll tell me.  As if my moving home will fix it all.  And I know it won't.  He worries.  Just wants to turn back the clock.  Maybe that's what I want, too.  Just to go back to how it was when we all loved and supported each other.  Now we never really talk, hide feelings from one another, and secretly resent each other.  I don't know how I could have lost my mother over the birth of my child.  It seemed like it would bring us closer together.  I don't know how she could just leave and not try to repair this.  If she's depressed, why won't she get help?  That's the reason she gave for leaving my father, that he had problems and wouldn't get help for them.  If that's the case, I can't forgive it.  I mean, she hated my father for that, and she's doing the same thing.  If she feels like she's "uncomfortable" around children, why doesn't she try to get to know him?  Why does she see him as a completely different person than I do?  And it's not my "love blindness" talking.  I've heard others tell me the complete opposite of what she tells me.  Obviously to me, something's wrong.  And time is flying by and she has absolutely NO relationship with him at all, and it's not going to get closer with time.

My heart aches as I write this.  Tears blur my eyes.  I can't stand how dysfunctional we've all become, and how little we know or feel about each other.  There will be a time when it's too late, and I don't know why she doesn't care.  And my sisters are all with her there, physically, and I'm here.  I know it would make no difference.  Even when I lived 1/2 a mile away she didn't visit me.  Only sissy C did.  And dad.  They're the ones I miss most.  And my son, too, since he actually has a relationship with them, unlike my mom and my other sister.  And that's virtually all we have left in our lives now, just them.  Our families are shrinking with illness and age.  I feel a sense of desperation about reconciliation, but I think I'm the only one.

I feel like such an idiot.  Crying about why my mom never showed me she loved me.  Why she doesn't love my son.  Even if she loves us, somehow, somewhere in there, she treats us like she wants nothing to do with us.  I stayed in her HOME on my last visit, and barely saw here.  She would retreat to her bedroom and talk on the phone or use her computer.  I traveled 1500 miles to be there, and made sure to bring my son so she could see him as he grows up so quickly, and she sat there in her room and did all the things she does every day when I'm NOT there.  How can I not feel hurt?  How can I reconcile this?  If we had NEVER been close, I could see it, but . . .

I feel like I've done something wrong somehow.  What am I not seeing?  What have I done?  What haven't I said?  I just don't know.  And why am I unable to let this go now that I can't change it?  Why am I still spending at least one night a week crying at midnight and unable to sleep?

Adjustments

I don't always find myself talking about good things that happen in my life.  I'm not completely sure why, but maybe it comes from a fear that people will think I'm trying to make them jealous, or just the fact that I lack a positive outlook on life.  But I need to focus more on the happy events that make life livable, know what I mean?

So, I feel bad that I haven't blogged about this before, but about 5 days ago my family adopted a new member of the family!  He's a sweet little chihuahua-dachshund mix, rescued from the animal shelter as a stray.  He's under a year old, but not quite a puppy.  Very energetic at times, but much quieter than my Pomeranian!  Hahahaha!  He's a cutie.  I'll post a pic next time I blog, since I don't have any on my computer right now.  But he has an amazingly complicated expression sometimes, like he's imagining himself in another world or something.  Just staring out the window or through the backyard gate seems like a porthole to a fantastical journey.  Other times, he has the naivete of a baby.  Just a bee flying through the air will puzzle him, and reflections in shiny objects surprise him and catch him off guard.  He wakes up in the best mood, tail-wagging and bouncy.  Maybe he dreamed of being back in the shelter or on the street, and awoke to the good news of having a real home.  I wonder sometimes.  He already learned his name, the clever boy:  Quincy.

The house is a little lighter with him here, making my other dog less lonely, and giving me something positive to focus on and enjoy, most of the time.  My medications are being adjusted, honestly.  We'll find out where to go from here, in that regard.  But it's a process, so in the meantime I'm moody and introverted.  Hopefully that will change soon.  I've been losing weight as well, but slowly.  At least I'm losing.  And I'm eating much healthier, fresher foods, and a mix of fruits and vegetables like I have never eaten.  Lots of home cooking, for a change.  And vegetarian meals, not really thinking about it.  I feel good about the changes, and I'm not really missing anything since I've added so many new things to my menu.  And I know I can have anything I want, as long as I control the rest of my meals that week, and as long as I don't do it as often as I was before.  Only one cupcake as opposed to the four or more I would have eaten in a day before.  Yep, I was out of control with food. 

So, good things happening, even though my mood isn't there yet.  At least I didn't wait for my depression to lift completely before making these changes, since I could have been waiting forever.  I am trying not to let it determine my life.  It takes effort on a daily basis.  Extreme effort.  But I am doing it, most of the time.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

I like watching "House".  It's a good show, well-written, well-acted, and always with a creative script and storytelling.  I've noticed through the course of the show how often the song "You Can't Always Get What You Want" is featured during the show's closing, especially in the first season.  I know it's meaningful when it's played, and ever since my recent trip home I've been thinking about it.  Especially the line, "If you try sometimes you find/You get what you need."  Maybe because I haven't noticed it to be true.

I'm sure it's because I'm depressed quite often that I don't see it.  Maybe if I were to sit and think about it, it's true, that I'm really lucky with the things that really matter.  But sitting here--maybe even moping--tonight, I feel like there's always something missing that I truly want, that I don't think I'll ever get.  What hurts the most is that I'll keep waiting for it, knowingly in vain.  And I'll put myself in a position to get hurt over and over and over again.

My mother has never been very demonstrative with emotions or encouragement or the like.  She's funny, she's genuine, and practical.  But not warm and fuzzy really, and there were times in my life when a bit of sensitivity from her would have gone a long way.  I have come to realize that's just the truth about her, and a survival strategy she had to develop as a young child with alcoholic parents (adoptive parents, to make it worse) and abandonment issues.  She tells me stories that bring tears to my eyes.  But she survived, maybe by distancing herself emotionally, maybe by surrounding herself with people who would depend on her, so they wouldn't leave . . .  My father was that sort, troubled and unreliable.  And so am I.  Maybe that's why she has such a hard time relating to me, and why she eventually left my father.  Trying to get something emotional to grow out of seeds sown in the wrong soil. 

I think I can deal with that, the fact that my mother loves me and doesn't show it.  What I can't deal with is that she doesn't love my son.  It breaks my heart into so many pieces that the shards hurt, too.  I always thought that she would get to know him and love him.  That they would spend time together and he'd be proud of where he came from, and I'd be proud of my family and my hometown.  But the last time I visited, the part that is still stinging from the slap across the face of my dreams, is how she treated him, how distant she was, and the delusions she came up with to feel the way she did.  She said she saw him "pushing her buttons" and trying to get a rise out of her, why I do not know.  I mean, why would he push her buttons when she's already being so abrasive?  And he doesn't even know her.  I didn't see it at all.  I saw a boy being polite and trying to bond over common interests.  He saw that she liked video games and wanted to talk about them.  My mother likes reality "competition" shows, and so does my son.  He tried to watch them with her.  But she just became annoyed with everything he said and did.  And she really and truly believes those things she said.  Which I don't get.  It hurts that she would believe that, that my son is just a brat.  No one else says that about him.  He gets along with other adults so well, who knows?  Maybe she's threatened by him?  Not sure.  She said she knew she was pulling away when he was a baby, and she watched him, and he cried.  She said she only dealt with it when we were babies because she had to, but now she can't.

She had started the conversation with me by saying, "You know I don't deal well with people."  Yeah, I know.  What I can't forgive is that she won't even try.  Won't get help.  Anyone else, I can understand.  No one likes to get help.  But it's the reason she's always given for leaving my father, that he wouldn't get help for his problems.  And now the tables are turned, and she doesn't see it.  Time is passing, and it will be too late.  He probably wouldn't even cry at her funeral, since he doesn't know who she is.  I constantly have to remind him that he has two grandmothers, since she's never acted like one.  And it hurts that it's my family acting like this.  And what would happen to him if something happened to my husband and I?  Where would he go?  There are no family members I trust, on either side of the family.  That hurts, hurts so so so much I can't bear it. 

I'm starting to think I shouldn't even go home.  I get hurt every time I do.  Maybe I didn't realize it at the time, but maybe that's why I left in the first place, to save myself.  I miss my home, but I miss the way it used to be.  It's not the same place anymore, not when I see everything and every relationship falling apart.  I feel more lost than I have in a long time.  No home to go to, and no home where I am.

Stress Reliever

Haven't blogged in a while, mostly due to the fact that I've been too distracted to think about writing.  My husband and I were sued in small claims court for breaking a lease just over a year ago, something we felt very justified about doing.  The landlord had even left a voice message the day after I had declared my intentions to move, and told me to do that very thing.  The day after we moved, however, we received a message from him saying that he had told us to move, yes, but he had never said he was letting us out of our lease, so pay up.  We felt cheated about all of this, like he had deliberately deceived us about everything up to this point, and this latest message was no exception.

So we went to court, well-prepared, found child care for our son for the morning, made sure he got to school okay, found time off work for my husband during a busy time, and showed up early.  But the plaintiff never showed up.  It's rotten, but he never has to show reason why he didn't, but if we had missed our court date, we would have lost our case immediately.  His case was simply dismissed "without prejudice" so he could file again.  And that he did.

So we prepare again, find child care, go to court early, and wait.  This time the plaintiff shows up.    Nerves begin.  I start shaking.  Hoping it will all turn out okay.  This time we had also filed a counter-claim, which we figured we had good reason to.  But the judge saw otherwise.  He didn't see that our reasons for moving, or that the landlord's obvious deceit had been all that serious.  So we lost our claim.  Now I am nervous.  What if we have to pay this guy even MORE money?  He already has our security deposit of one month's rent, and an extra month's rent we paid while a lawyer reviewed our case.  We didn't feel like he should get one more dime from us.  Not one more cent.

The judge asked him if he had advertised the apartment for rent anywhere, in the paper, on the internet, with a rental agency . . .  The landlord said he hadn't, but he had a sign out front!  It had a phone number, where anyone who saw it could call and someone would answer, he asserted.  Wow.  I'm underwhelmed.  Luckily, the judge was, too, and said even though we were liable for the rent, the landlord had to make reasonable efforts to rent the place and limit his damages.  He had not.  So 2 month's rent was reasonable for him to have received from us, and that was all we owed!  So we didn't need to pay him any more money!!!  Woohoo!!

So even though we lost our counter-claim, it was a win for us, as far as we were concerned.  We just didn't want to pay more money to him after all we had been through.  And that's just what happened.  It's hard to believe after months of stressing over this, that it's finally over!!  We can relax a bit, and hopefully enjoy living here now, as much as I can anyway. 

And that's the basic outline of what happened.  That's probably all I'll write about the whole debacle since I'm sick of thinking about it.  Time to move on.  :)

Lessons

Went to therapy today, and wanted to put some thoughts down on paper.  So, why not share that with the whole damn freakin' internet, I asked myself?  So here I am.  All the better to blog ya with. 

So there have been a few "breakthrough" moments I've had lately, but a couple of the major ones were today.  For one, I realize I've been considering my mood to determine how I'm doing.  I mean, I am supposed to monitor it for therapy and to help regulate my medications, but I've let it completely determine everything.  On an average day, I would say I wake up, ask myself how I feel, then make a decision as to how productive I'm going to be.  Right now, I'm not doing too badly, depression-wise, but I've been lacking in motivation--and motivation to become motivated, for that matter.  It's led be back down the slippery slope, regardless of my medication, to then feel bad about myself for not fighting it more, and then to feel even less motivated than before.  Next, I grow to hate myself, do nothing, and nothing changes. 

My therapist reminded me to do my best to let my actions determine my life, not my mood.  My actions are my life, and if I'm depressed or doomed to be so for the rest of my life, I need to learn to live with it in some form.  I've done so little of the things I've always wanted to do, and my life is absolutely FLYING by so rapidly.  I've become hyper-aware of my birthday only a few days away, and I'm close to 40.  Not that life is over at that point, but I'm reaching stage where I had always expected myself to have done more as I looked into the future at whom I thought I was going to be.  And, even worse, my attitude, lack of motivation, and even my self-loathing are rubbing off on my son!  It's a worst case scenario, as far as I'm concerned.  I couldn't be more disappointed in myself, honestly.  I hear him say I'm boring, that he hates himself when he does something he regrets, or even say he wants to hurt himself, something I've never done or said, but he seems to take to heart.  It hurts me deeply.  I think I was so caught up in how the medication was doing, how I seemed to be feeling better, although slowly, that I kidded myself as to how critical the situation really is.  It's serious.  Time to take it seriously.

Not that I expect to pretend.  I am lousy at just burying my feelings deep inside and play-acting that everything is fine.  Won't do it.  But if I am busy living life, I'll have less time to feel lousy, won't I?  So that's what I'm going to be working on.  And no more self-insults.  Even the "clumsy me's" I tell myself when I drop something or stub my toe.  No more "what an idiot's" when I forget something and have to go back home.  Not going to do it anymore.  My son hears that, and does the same.  I'm not an idiot because I forgot something.  Everyone does it.  It's an inconvenience.  But I don't want to teach myself to hate myself.  Or teach my son to hate himself.  That's it.  The end.  No more.

Lastly, I took a lovely phrase from "Dirty Jobs" and Mike Rowe.  He said, "Don't follow your passion, but always take it with you."  So I don't have to think that my childhood fantasies need to have been fulfilled to have a fulfilling life, but I can be passionate about my life.  Everything I do can be worthwhile.  I can bring that passion to anything, and do it well.  I just need to try. 

So here's an outline of my pact with myself, to work toward happiness, a better life, and becoming a better role model for my son.  I sometimes fool myself into thinking he won't imitate me, that he isn't learning everything unless I intend to teach it to him, but that's not true.  He's learning a lot about life from me, and how to deal with it.  It's time I started to deal with it.

I'm not the droid you're looking for . . .

I haven't been feeling well.  Not just mood-wise, but I've been coughing and sneezing and fatigued.  I'm not saying I'm sick, but I'm not necessarily thinking about blogging, either.  So the other day, I jump in the shower right after I've dropped my son off at school, just to make sure I have time to nap before I pick him up, and make sure it's a GOOD nap, too.  Then I hear an engine outside, car doors, then footsteps to my door, knocking in a somewhat jaunty and confident fashion . . .


My dog is barking at this point, and I wonder for a few moments if I can wait it out, and these people I probably don't know will leave, when the doorbell rings, my dog goes ballistic, and I know the nap is officially postponed.  When I see the outline of a badge on someone's chest through the glass in the door, I know for SURE the nap is postponed. 

I answer, and it's two BOUNTY HUNTERS!  WTF?  Right?  I mean, I am the most BORING person you could meet, so I know there's no way they are looking for me.  They ask if I know Blanky Blank, and I say no, then ask if I've ever seen her, show me a picture to which I answer no.  They look confused, sure I must know this person, but I tell them I don't.  They ask who I am, how long I've lived here, if I rent or own, and realize I'm telling the truth, I don't know the woman they are looking for.  And she drives a similar car to me, to add to the confusion.But then it dawns on me that I get tons of phone calls for the woman who used to live here, and even though they must have had a different phone number, mine is now associated with this address and prone to having bill collectors find it.  So apparently she's in some kind of financial difficulties.  I ask the last name again, and it matches.  It's her sister!

So I give them every detail I know, even give them old mail that wasn't forwarded, tell them the house I saw them walk over to, everything I can think of.  They say her sister is wanted in three states and in Canada for identity theft and fraud.  Wow.  Hope they catch her.  The men also warn me to check my own credit, that she's just that crafty.  And her sister doesn't sound so trustworthy, either.  Great.  Just great.  Did I pick the right address or what?

But I tell you, I had the most interesting Facebook status update for the day!  ;)

Pick me up . . .

Know what's funny?  I am probably one of the few people in the world who does NOT enjoy soda or cola of any kind.  Really don't like it much.  I can easily pass it up.  I know people who are hooked on Diet Coke, and rarely drink anything else, even water!  But it really isn't any treat for me.  I can pass.  Coffee I like.  Tea now and then.  But not soda.

At the moment, though, I'm hooked on ginger ale!  Yum!  Maybe it's the ginger zing, I don't know!  :)  I really like ginger, and ginger lemonade is the best!  I found I like the Jamaican style ginger ale more than regular Canada Dry, but I'll take it anyway!  :)  Just something that's been a little pick me up lately.

Other than that, I'm pretty friggin' lonely.  Waiting for some new friendships to build on.  But I'm also nervous about jumping in and opening myself up for more disappointment and putting my son through emotional commitments that don't pan out.  It's hard for him because he makes friends with MY friends, and it's sad when they disappear.  He doesn't get it, why mommy just thinks someone is nuts and needs to be out of our lives.  So when my most recent close friend decided she was angry at me for something I didn't do, I was fine with it.  Good, bye-bye.  Not to say our friendship hadn't meant anything to me, because that's not true.  But she had made me feel like I was never good enough, and for someone with low self-esteem, that's never good.  Just made me feel good long enough for her to take her frustrations out on me, then apologize enough to do it all over again.  When I finally got out from under that spell, I was relieved to say the least.  But now I want to be careful when choosing someone to build a friendship with, and I know it's hard to do that in such a technical, non-emotional manner.  I just can't take "crazy" right now.  Crazy as I might be, I'm all I can handle right now.

I used to think I related to people with mental problems more than "regular" people.  But I've since recognized that probably EVERYONE has some sort of mental problem, some just aren't diagnosed, and some are probably just not severe enough to interfere with their normal functioning.  So that former distinction doesn't seem to apply right now.  I just need to find people to bring close to me who don't bring me down but build me up.  I'm at a state where I need to do some serious healing.  And I've put myself off way too long.

Thanks for reading.

Ponderings on Insanity

Didn't I say I was a bad blogger?  I did, didn't I?  Well, yeah.  I'm just not very consistent, am I?  Maybe inconsistency is my consistency, if that makes any sense!  Ha!  Life intervenes, usually.  I seldom participate in my hobbies anymore, but a lot of why I think I CAN'T is probably in my head.  I could if I made the time somehow.  I think I usually think I SHOULD be doing something else, so I don't do the things I enjoy.  I often feel guilt when I make time for myself.  I'm not trying to rant and berate myself, it's just something I've been working on, to realize when my feelings are justified and when they are not. 

At the moment, I've been fighting depression.  I am starting to wonder, however, if it is more than that, or an entirely different problem altogether.  I just assumed it was depression, since the worst part of it all was the sadness, the unyielding unhappiness . . .  But as I think back to my childhood, and then to my adolescence, I remember being more than just sad.  I was . . . quirky, even WEIRD.  What if it's a personality disorder I've been fighting all these years, and I just didn't know it? 

I've been reading about schizotypal personality disorder recently, mostly trying to see if I could find a label for what my sibling's problems might be, but even though I didn't exactly identify with the symptoms, I wondered if some of my behaviors and personality quirks from prior to my "medicated life" might have been more markedly schizotypal or related to another disorder.  I stop short of saying my belief in the paranormal is a symptom, mostly because I am so extremely skeptical.  I believe in the possibility that energy can exist in some form after death, but I don't believe in demons, orbs, UFOs, SLI, or things like that.  Even psychic powers I have a tough time with, since what people see could so often be mistaken hallucinations or psychotic delusions.  I have at times felt I was psychic, when I was about 10-12 years old, but that was also at the height of my quirks and alienation from society.  At that age, it was the first time I really remember wanting to die.  I was so depressed day in and day out, nothing helped.  I dressed differently (very geeky, in fact) and excelled in school, because I felt like I was supposed to, but also because I didn't have the distraction of friends or a social life.  I believed I had psychic ability, that I could see ghosts.  That's when I had my first paranormal experience, that I've been unable to shake my whole life.  I wonder now if it was real.  But the recordings and evidence I've gathered since then help to reinforce the belief, as well as meeting so many experts in the field out here in California.  But that possibility it's "mental illness" that is responsible for that core belief still nags me.

I wonder if it was the situation that made me what I was, or if I was who I was.  Even into college, as much as I wanted to make friends, I could say things that someone took the wrong way, not knowing how far to take a joke, not knowing exactly how someone would read something I said.  Often I would come away from a situation with a different take than those around me.  For example, I took a class where the professor took us to his home and to his studio as a sort of field trip.  The idea was to show us how working artists lived and worked, what kinds of things he did to keep his office organized, software, etc.  At the time, I remember being extremely annoyed that he had done this, thinking it was an overtly conceited gesture, showing us what a "big shot" he thought he was, and thinking his way was the best way . . .  My boyfriend at the time (now husband) told me he thought it was just because he had access to his own studio and office, that it was easy, and it made sense.  I blew off what he had said, thinking he just "didn't understand" the B.S. that existed in the art world, and therefore didn't know what he was talking about.  But now that I think back, I think he was right.  And I wonder if those kinds of events are common for schizotypals.

I'll discuss all of this with my mental health professionals.  But it's been on my mind, so now it's on my blog.  Time to find out what's wrong, so I can fix it.  And maybe, by extension, my sibling.  I worry so much that he/she isn't getting the help he/she needs.  So I can only live by example, can't I?  

Good news, bad news . . .

Good news first?  Yeah, what the hell.  It's my lame attempt at optimism. 

Okay, so I had some extremely-EXTREMELY-uncomfortable dental experiences in my youth.  The guy was a true sadist, and not at all kind to children.  Whether my mother knew about this, didn't believe me, or just couldn't do anything about it for monetary reasons is unknown to me.  But it was like being tortured again and again and again as I had almost a dozen teeth pulled to get ready for braces.  To this day, even the smell of Novocaine causes me pain in my gums, and that is not an exaggeration!  So I already didn't like dentists, and avoided going if I could.  In my early 20s, I had a good dentist who was very kind, but his hygienist was a bitch.  So I would avoid going just to avoid her.  But I still went on a semi-regular basis, even if it was every 1 1/2 to 2 years. 

Lately, though--well, I've lived in 3 different cities in the last 6 years, had 7 different mailing addresses, and had a baby.  Two close pets passed away.  My husband got laid off.  Financial uncertainty.  So I didn't make time for the dentist.  I admit it, but mistake.  I did the best I could to take care of my teeth in spite of this, but I still knew I was putting off something really important.  So, when my son got his first ever dental exam recently, I felt like I should set a good example and finally take care of that myself.  So today was that appointment! 

Let me say, if you have put this off, make sure you get your teeth cleaned soon!  The hygienist scraped and clawed and grunted at my teeth harder than anyone ever has, and said, "You're making me work today!" in an exasperated tone.  At that, I reminded her, "I'm not enjoying it very much, either!"  She laughed, said that made it better . . .  Hahaha!  Still, she was nice about it, just said I'd waited too long, but she understood.  At least I was there taking care of it now, you know what I mean? 

But the good news is, my exam and x-rays were absolutely STELLAR!  The dentist said he couldn't believe it had been that long since I had been out of dental care, and that my teeth were in the good shape they were in!  Yea!  I really needed the good news!  Healthy teeth and gums!

I really needed the good news, because as I was having my enamel and gums scraped, my husband texted me to say he had gotten served court papers again.    Yeah, the guy did it again.  AB is back.  At least it's still in small claims court.  But here in California, the upper limit is $7500!  That's kind of a lot for most people, and for a family on a single income, it's even more.  Gonna study and be prepared again, hopefully it will turn out well.  But that was not good news.  Not at all.  Although, I really expected it soon.  So it wasn't a real surprise or anything.

On that note . . .  Well, I'll end by saying life keeps coming at us, but we keep living.  I've been doing my best to take care of business, get things under control, so I don't feel as much in chaos as I sometimes do.  I'm always a work-in-progress, but at least I can say I'm progressing, right?  Last time we got served court papers I panicked, cried, and generally freaked out, then pigged out on pizza.  Not this time.  And as I'm finding this out I'm at the dentist?  Still didn't freak out?  Proud of myself for that.  Maybe I'm getting stronger.  I like to think so.

Flaky and Nutty

Since this is the only venue in which I have talked about this, where I can be as anonymous as I choose, I feel I can write about my court date today.

I want to say it went well, but nothing happened.  The plaintiff did not show up.  I'm not sure exactly why, but the case was dismissed without prejudice.  If we had missed the court date, we'd have a judgment against us, and we'd have to show good cause to have missed the court date and have the judgment vacated.  However, he can miss it completely, never show just cause, and file again.  Doesn't seem fair.  Maybe he just realized that he filed incorrectly, that he should have used his business name instead, and chose to be vindictive and make us show up to court.  Maybe he's toying with us, harassing us in some way.  It took a good deal of scheduling and coordinating to get us there, to get someone arranged to take my son to school, and get to court on time.  I'm disgusted with him right now.  Call him A.B.  Well, A.B., we will still be prepared if you file again.  We'll perhaps be even more prepared, if possible.  Anything I can find, I will use.

I've also spoken with a friend of mine who claims to be more in touch with the spirit world than I.  What an interesting conversation!  I think I've always been in denial a bit about whether or not I possess certain abilities.  I'm a skeptic, to say the least.  And even though I believe in ghosts or paranormal activity or whatever you want to call it, I've had few experiences that I'm willing to call "paranormal" without a doubt.  Most experiences I've had, I've doubted.  But there are a few times in my life where I can't quite explain it away, and a couple of times where I felt I was getting messages.

I'm not sure, even in this anonymous environment, that I feel I can fully disclose these events.  They are very personal, and they bring to mind moments of enormous grief in my life.  I hesitate to dredge that up now, on a day when my emotions are so close to the surface.  I can be general, though.  Both of the "messages" I felt I was getting from the "spirit world," or whatever you want to call it, came right before someone close to me passed away.  Within 48 hours of passing, actually.  It felt like I was given a chance to say goodbye, but I wasn't sure.  Now, years later, I'm sure.  Recently, I've begun to feel some kind of "influence"--or something-- in my life.  This conversation with a friend over coffee led me to believe I would feel cold if they were trying to tell me something.  And when I was in the courtroom waiting for our case to be called, there was a chill over me the entire time.  My husband said he never felt cold, and when I first walked in the courtroom, it felt warm.  I could say it was my nerves or something, could keep denying this, but I could also consider the possibility that my "guides" were telling me it would be okay.  It could be true, right?  Maybe there are some kind of guides trying to help me in my journey, if I'll only hear them.  Hmm.  Makes me think.  And life away from the crushing influence of religion in the South has only made me more spiritual, in a way.  I've been leaning away for so long, so tired of hearing it all, so tired of everything being made to seem like God is out there, I was glad to move to a place where atheism isn't a bad word.  I'm still an atheist, don't get me wrong, but I'm starting to think that just because there isn't an omnipotent force doesn't mean there can't be energy out there, something that lives after the body dies.  From a scientific standpoint, it makes sense. And the energy could find a way to communicate, just not as clearly as a person can, since it's not complete energy.  Complete as in "energy combined with a corporal form" that makes a person able to communicate the way they do.

I digress.  Starting to ramble.  It's been a rough week, to say the least.  And I know the whole lawsuit thing isn't over, which doesn't help.  But I'll be less nervous if we ever go back.  That helps.  I'll know what to expect and be waiting.  And I've been homesick like you wouldn't believe.  I've never wanted a pair of cowboy boots so bad in my life!  LOL!!  I really was never a fan, but somehow I want them like never before!  Hahaha!  Cavender's gift card, please!  :D  Okay, that's it.  I'll be back in a better mood after this.  The boy has a day off on Monday, and I've been looking forward to time off of all the schedules.  Later!

Grilling

Have a barbecue to go to this afternoon.  It's with a couple my husband met through the internet, and their son loves our son.  I'm kind of neutral on the parents.  They seem nice enough, but they bicker, and the husband started to badmouth my hometown before I changed the subject.  I hope I'm not being immature about it, but it's quite a turnoff when someone does that.  It's not like we left home because we didn't like it, we left because we had job opportunities elsewhere.  I still miss home like crazy.  It's a great place to live and grow up, and quite frankly, my son is missing out by growing up here.  But I digress . . .

So I'm not excited about going, but hopefully it will be fun anyway.  Just watch the kids enjoy themselves.  And tomorrow we have company coming over to our place.  It's a couple and their 2 kids we feel a lot closer to--so far.  We don't know them too well yet.  But it's nice to meet some other southerners like us.  It should be fun.  I'm excited to have them over, for yet even more barbecue, and to have the boys play, especially since one of their boys seems like he might be gifted like my son is, and maybe they can relate well.  And it's nice to have friends who "get" you, and who understand the whole marriage-kids dynamic that a lot of people I've met here just don't understand.  Hopefully we'll get along, and hopefully we can become close, if it works out.  I'm just hoping for some close friends here, finally.

So even though I qualify everything with potential for disappointment, I'm actually pretty optimistic.  Looking forward to tomorrow and the potential for friendships.  And my son has his pinewood derby going on with the cub scouts tomorrow, too, which he is excited about.  He probably won't do well, since it was his first attempt at building a car, and it was a little bit light and the wheels are a bit crooked.  But he's excited, and who knows?  Maybe he will surprise us!  Should be fun.

Next week is our court date, for the small claims case we are defendants in.  Then WE will be grilled.  At least it will finally be over, one way or another.  Looking forward to the week after, honestly.  Nervous as all heck.    But then we'll know how broke we'll be.  Could be worse, I suppose.  Could have been regular court, instead of small claims.  Could have had to pay over $1000 for medical bills last month.  Maybe things will go our way?  Still nervous, but trying to be realistic.

That's it for now.  Lots of uncertainties, but potential for good things.  That's good.  Talk again.  :)

????

Yesterday was a weird day.  It turns out, it was weird for everyone in my family.  Well, immediate family.  My son somehow got sent to the principal's office, they said because he threatened 2 other students, but I'm not sure if that's really how it happened.  He's such a smart and sweet kid, and always feeling bad if he does something wrong, it was strange to hear he had done this.  It might have been a horrible misunderstanding.  Then my mood was weird, just pessimistic and dreary, more so than usual.  My husband and I had watched Changeling the night before, the movie directed by Clint Eastwood that Angelina Jolie got rave reviews for.  It was such a disturbing and frustrating film, it stuck with me up until morning, and then throughout the day.  I kept thinking how difficult some things are to change, and how little some people seem to care.  There is such a complacency about society, that few people act together to make things better.  It hurts me sometimes when I think about that.  How I know such horrible things are going on right now, that no one does anything about.  That feeling lingered yesterday.

But so far today is better, I can safely say now that it's almost over.  Doing laundry, my son is back to normal, and we'll see how the evening goes.  So just hang in there, if anyone's reading this.  I know I have very mercurial moods lately, but it's a difficult time for us.  We're working through it.

Hey . . .

Just wanted to make sure I take advantage of a few minutes to blog.  I've been busy, yes, but also preoccupied.  Worried some things in my life are going to be lost due to my neglect.  First on my list would be my husband.  I think I have been neglecting our relationship since I've been depressed.  It's easy to give in to my emotional state and just withdraw, and sometimes we aren't the best at communicating.  I might feel stressed out and try to talk to him about it, and he's in a similar state doesn't feel like he can handle my feelings on top of his . . .  So I just try not to talk about feelings with him.  As a result, I don't feel as close to him as I used to.  I don't feel close to anyone, honestly.  My family is far away, but it's one of those things where it feels like I'm doing all of the work to keep us connected.  They never seem to ask about my son, and I usually end up feeling like there is just "ice" between us, a chill that never warms up.  It wasn't necessarily like that when I was growing up, but it is now.  Distance growing figuratively as well as literally.

And who else am I supposed to confide in?  So far, the friends I've made here have been false ones.  Still looking for real friends.  And with a lack of closeness between my husband and I, I wonder what will become of us.  And how much of it is my own fault?  Maybe it's just the ways I've chosen to "help" really seem to "hurt".  I don't even know.  I think he doesn't want to hear my feelings, or that he'd invalidate them by making me seem like I'm overreacting to whatever the situation might be.  He treats me like that.  Maybe I assume he feels that way a lot, even when he doesn't.  But in my defense, he has taught me to feel that way.  So what's left?

As I worry about that, I worry about my son, my own goals . . .  My son has had problems lately, things that concern me, but aren't the worst in the world.  Still worries, though.  And my own goals?  Nonexistent.  I really have none.  I have a website that I try to put artwork on, stuff that helps me work through stress and grief.  I want to do something positive, to change the world for the better, but I think I'm going to be one of those people that passes away without many people even knowing she existed.  Am I really even living life to the fullest?  Not in the slightest.

That's not to say I've never had any positive experiences, because I have been very lucky throughout my life, in spite of limited means.  I've done a lot of things I never thought I'd do.  But I can't find myself content to live in the past, and merely enjoy the things I've already done, with no plans to ever do anything ever again.  If my marriage breaks apart, if anything were to happen to my son, I'd have nothing.  NOTHING.  I would be worthless to myself and the world.  I am not sure medication or therapy can do it this time.  I just have no idea what I'm doing, how to function or how to make changes for myself.  And time is ticking away so quickly.  I'm another year older in only a couple of months.  Getting ready to say goodbye to another decade soon.  One more year.

I can't even end this blog entry with some kind of conclusion, because I have none.  Just feeling lost and with my wheels spinning in mud.  No place to go, no plans to change anything . . .  Hoping my therapist can help.  Why did I have to have this problem?  I feel so weak, like no one respects me.  And genetics are bringing me down.

Namaste . . .

I've been doing yoga pretty consistently now (for me) for about 3 or so months.  There was a week in there where my mother-in-law came to visit, and a week where I was sick that kept me from having a perfect record, but I've been as consistent as possible.  I supplement with protein and try to limit fatty foods, which is extremely difficult for me sometimes.  But I've noticed some benefits in a relatively short period of time.

My strength and flexibility have improved, for one.  I was feeling a bit aged there for a while, I have to admit.  And my knees had been bothering me on long investigations outdoors, when I had to go up and down hills a lot.  But now my knees feel great!  I can hardly believe how little effort it has taken me, and how little motivation I need to get started in the morning.  I actually look forward to it.  And I guess that is the key, isn't it?  Finding something that suits YOU, specifically.  Most yoga workouts I found were too easy, and I didn't see much benefit from doing them.  But the new one is tough tough tough tough tough.  I still like it, though, and I can still convince myself to do it in the morning, which are good characteristics for a workout. 

Probably the best and most notable benefit for me is that my resting heart rate has dropped dramatically.  Not long ago, I had a doctor tell me they were considering medications for me.  My resting heart rate wandered from between 90 to 110.  It didn't matter how relaxed I was, how low the stress was, or anything.  I was just unhealthy, to put a fine point on the matter.  I was working my way to an early grave.  It scared me, but I just couldn't motivate myself enough to do anything about it.  Sometimes I am keenly aware that the old me is still lurking inside, and hopefully she doesn't show herself again, not while I'm doing so well. 

I like seeing muscles become more defined, my posture become more upright, and my color turn healthier.  I hope I don't slip back into my old patterns.  That is a thought that frightens me.  I'm not good at dealing with change, apparently.  As long as nothing changes, I'll be able to keep my routine.  But when things go haywire, when I need the exercise, stress relief, and health benefits the most, I fail. 

So, just in case you were wondering, I'm doing the Biggest Loser Workout:  Weight Loss Yoga DVD.  It's awesome.  I can do the entire hour-long workout now.  I feel so strong, knowing what I can do now.  I remember when I first started the DVD program, and I couldn't even finish the first 30 minutes.  They were so HARD!  I had to stop and take breaks, I felt shaky and weak, and I could barely catch my breath the entire time.  What a difference after 2 weeks, when I never thought I'd be able to add the level 2 workout, I was doing it!  Not always the best the first time, but after I week, I had the hang of it.  I'll never forget the level of accomplishment I felt when I finished the whole hour for the first time!  Wow!  Now I can do the entire hour on a regular basis.

I'm still a bit chunky, I have to say.  Not the heaviest I've ever been, but not quite in the healthy range.  I have some work to do.  But at least I have a little ammunition now.  I don't have a beach body by any means.  But I can keep up with my son better, and I can walk without excruciating pain.  I'm a winner even if the weight never leaves, mostly because I'm healthier and stronger. 

Identity Crisis

This post will be a quickie.  I have a busy evening planned.

So have you noticed this blog has an identity crisis?  Yeah, I thought so.  Can't make apologies for that, since I sort of titled the blog to make up for that!  But today I had my regular therapy, then got some GOOD news for a change.  A medical bill we were terrified to pay was reduced to where we pay $0!!!  Yep, they changed the bill to reflect a zero balance after the insurance paid it's portion!!!  Woohoo!  Needed some good news, really.

I was in a funk anyway, due to the depression, and really didn't feel like being social.  Now the plans I have for the evening don't seem quite as annoying.  I will frequently make plans, then later feel stuck into them, even if it's something fun.  It's hard when depressed to make yourself get out of the house, even when you know it will do you some good.  There is a serious lack of interest in normal activities going on in my head.  Now it's off to t-ball practice for my son, then I have to run off for an investigation this evening.

In my spare time, once in a while, I am a paranormal investigator.  It's something I've been interested in since I was a child, and I'll blog about that when I have more time.  But as much as I feel sleepy already, and as much as I really don't feel like driving so far, I committed myself to the team, and they need me.  When I signed up, it sounded like fun, but then the depression kicks in and sabotages my life.  I would probably never do anything, ever, if I let my brain have it's way.  I would cancel every plan I ever made and stay home and get fat.  Once I am on the way, I know I'll get more excited about it.  I usually find myself a bit wired if it's a good location, excited to see what might happen and what I might find.  I am the most skeptical believer you'll ever meet, but when I find something irrefutable, it's a fantastic feeling. 

So I guess I need to go.  Time to get stuff done.  And who am I?  You might be asking yourself.  I have no idea.  I'm a little of a lot.  Keep reading and find out more, if you feel like you can take the mosaic quality of my life!  :)

Birthdays and Blessings

It's my mom's birthday today!  Yep, April Fool's Day.  Makes you think she had lots of awesome birthday parties growing up, lots of fun pranks and craziness, but not so.  She had a rough life.  I'm not about to air her dirty laundry here, but suffice it to say she felt abandoned a lot, and it's a miracle I had the childhood I had, considering her lack of role models.  She did great.  What an awesome mom.  She made sacrifices and gave up what she felt she needed to in order for us to have a real childhood.  I love her dearly, even though for years she thought to be strong, she had to hide her feelings.  She tells me she's proud of me now, and my son.  That means a lot coming from her.  She had a lot to bear on her shoulders over the years, and she came out strong.

*****

A friend of mine gave birth to a miracle child a few short months ago, and the baby is doing great.  She's about to have a blessing ceremony at a church near her home in England.  I wish I could go to see her.  I've never met the baby, just seen pictures.  But she looks absolutely gorgeous, and I've never seen such a happy mother.  It was a miracle that she got pregnant, with multiple health problems, then to have a healthy pregnancy and safe childbirth . . .  Miracle baby, I tell you.  And she must have had a wonderful team of doctors behind her, keeping everything going so smoothly.

I remember how happy she was when she heard I was pregnant, and went through every step with me, long distance, as if it were her own pregnancy.  I felt so glad to have her as a friend, but sad she might not get to have the same blessing I did.  It would be rough, the doctor's said, and not recommended.  But somehow, she managed it.  I got to hear the about the whole process from start to finish, and now I get regular updates in photos and phone calls, to let me know how the baby is doing.  So happy for her.

*****

So today I tried to keep my mind off of my problems, and onto the happiness of others for a change.  Let's see what tomorrow brings.  It might be great, if I'm willing to see it.

How I feel today, and it's not good:

Days of whining have sort of led me to a sense of deep dissatisfaction.  Guess it was inevitable, and I guess I did it to myself.  I've pretty much decided that I don't want to live in California anymore.  It's too expensive and you get so little in return.  And that's for a family living on a 6-figure income!  So it hardly seems fair.  We still struggle with daily expenses.  I have no friends I consider good ones, for various reasons.  I find people I like, but just don't feel close to.  I could say it's all in my head, but for some reason it sincerely feels like they just don't "click" with me, I guess.  They live too far away, don't have the same interests, don't want to be bothered with someone who has a kid . . .  I've tried to make friends with some of Ethan's classmates' parents, but that hasn't worked out too well.  They all just suddenly withdraw from us, and I don't have a clue why.  I feel horribly lonely.

But then when I think about moving, I simply dread the thought.  It was hard to move out here, away from family and friends.  All of our possessions seem scattered to the winds.  What we have left isn't much.  And the thought of my son having to adjust to life again in a new place, new school, new friends, doesn't seem so fair, either.  But the smog is getting to us, my son has allergies so bad he has to take pills every day and he can barely breathe at night as he sleeps.  That can't be good.  So I have to choose between his mental health and his physical health?  I'm not sure how to BEGIN to do that.  And he has nightmares almost every night as it is.  Don't know if it's related to the instability, or just the surroundings, the school he's in . . .  Could be anything. 

When people talk about southern California with such admiration, I really wonder about it.  I've NEVER wanted to live here, ever.  In fact, it was on our list of places we DID NOT want to move to.  But somehow we ended up here.  Yeah, the weather is nice, but I honestly don't know how people can see past the dirt that's in the air, the graffiti, the litter on the ground, and say this place is pretty.  Very little of the city seems well-maintained or clean, in my opinion.  There are flowers, fruit trees, mountains . . .  But all are almost constantly obscured by smog and soot-like dirt that's almost impossible to clean.  I hesitate to eat the fruit in the backyard.  Doesn't feel like I can ever get it clean enough. 

Wow, now I sound like a person with really bad OCD, don't I?  I would laugh, but I know how it sounds.  Especially since so many people think this place is so great.  I don't get it myself.  This city has a massive superiority complex.  It's a huge turn-off for me.  HUGE turn-off.  People are shallow, and proud of it.  All of the stereotypes seem oddly true.  It's hard to take sometimes; I'm a person who just CRAVES the genuine, the unpretentious. 

I would like my son to grow up somewhere that I don't have to worry about what kind of person he'll grow up to be.  But moving seems so drastic.  Can't have it both ways.  And what about my husband?  He works in television.  Where else can we go that he won't have to work in local TV anymore?  He loves having national accounts and more interesting projects to work on.  He's thriving on it, in fact.  How can we all get what we want?

Flying fur . . .

Not to say that the events of yesterday have not sent my life into a tailspin, today I finally saw it--caught him in the act!  Saw the little monster that turned my lawn furniture from this:

... to THIS:

... and almost OVERNIGHT!!!

It's a stinking little squirrel, so deceptively cute and cuddly, that has done all of this!  Ugh!  He or she put holes in every little walnut I had this past fall, and there weren't many.  So what few there were, munched and trashed by squirrels.  Now my CHAIR!?    Yeah, I know.  The little furry monster probably needs it to make a nest for new furry monsters to enter the world.  Guess they're cute and all.  I had a rabbit for 13 years that really does remind me of them.  Weird.  Cute, but destructive.  I can re-fill the chair, but then what?  Find it deflated and flattened again in another week?  Hmm.  Just don't know.  Maybe I can make the fabric taste like something squirrels hate, like meat or something!  But then the opossum that frequents our yard, or the rat that runs on the power lines, might find it appealing.  

So I'm stuck with this weird chair.  Damn.  Can't sit around the yard eating barbecue in that.  Or relax by the firepit in that.  Or whatever.  Watch my son play.  Sip lemonade.  Etc.  Stuff people do in yards.  At least it was a cheap chair, some special offer from CVS last summer.  But it's not like we get furniture all the time. So I'm miffed.  Just whining and complaining today, but at least not about the same stuff, right?  Ha!

Anyone have tips, let me know.  I don't expect to trap the squirrels or move them, since they eat the loquats that make the patio sticky when they fall to the ground.  I'd rather have the loquats in a squirrels belly than making the patio so sticky and covered with ants it's unusable.  They tree is especially prolific throughout the summer, and already producing ripe fruit as we speak.  The squirrels begin to fight over them around now, and get especially violent through the summer, fighting all over our roof and harassing and chasing our dog whenever he visits the yard alone.  Like I said, cute but destructive.

And still somehow welcome in our yard.  :)

Get me outta here!

I'm so tired of money troubles I could just scream!!  I've always had to struggle, ever since I was a child, but I was always okay somehow.  Everything turned out fine.  When I met my husband, we each had a lot of debt, and were forced into bankruptcy when we found we were so broke we were paying bills with credit cards just to avoid being late.  We had scratched and saved and pinched every penny we could before then, even selling our car and giving up everyday things we considered luxuries.  We had to struggle to get back out of that hole, but it slowly happened.  When hubby got the job in California, it seemed like things were finally going our way.

Then he got laid off, rather suddenly.  With no warning, we were forced to move again, to scale back our lifestyle, only farther than we had before, ever.  That turned into a disaster as well, since the smaller place we moved into was horrible and unsafe for me and my child.  We broke the lease, and moved into the place we live now.  It's less than half the size of the house we owned in our home state, and with no modern conveniences.  At least it's a house, and it is in a safe neighborhood, we said.

But now we're back in the same boat again, it seems.  Just as the bankruptcy is about to disappear from our credit records, just as we seem to have weathered the storm, that horrible place unsafe for me and my child has now served us with papers--they are suing us for breaking our lease! 

Now what?  I know I don't know if they will win their case or not, but the stress is horrible.  And just as we are struggling with medical bills after hubby's employer changed the health insurance they offered this year.  The future looks so dismal right now I can't take it.  I just can't.  Why have things turned so wrong, so badly?  Did we make a mistake somewhere?  At the moment, in hindsight, I wish we hadn't moved to California.  I hate this place.  It takes so much more work to get ahead here, and life is much harder than before.  It takes such great effort just to meet people and make friends, and just groceries are almost unmanageable.  I hate how much insurance costs here, how much housing costs, and how the standards of living are so much lower than back home.  I hate that just to be able to pay our bills that we are bound to see in the near future, we're going to have to move again to an even smaller place, if we can find one.  I can't stand trying to take care of my son here, trying to keep him safe and going to a decent public school (see, no luxuries there, either), and it's almost impossible.  The smallest setback here becomes a huge one.  I miss having my family around.  I miss nice people.  I miss things being affordable.

I guess things could still be worse, but I'm tired of saying that, too.  I swear, I am fed up with this city and everything around it. 

Looking forward . . .

I am actually finding myself looking forward to blogging again.  I think for a while I had become jaded.  Maybe I had enough people to talk to, maybe it was hard putting feelings on the web and finding that it really didn't mean anything to anyone, or change anything.  But now I find myself in a different place, mentally.  I could really use a space to talk things out, since I have found so few people I really connect with on a psychological level here in Los Angeles.  Too many shallow people, and people who are self-centered and demanding.  I can't take it sometimes.  It's like I'm talking to the wind, and my voice is either unheard or whisked away.  No one cares about anyone else but themselves here, and I know there are exceptions, but those are too hard to find sometimes.  I feel lonely in a crowded room.  

I have quite a few friends here, don't get me wrong.  I love every one of them.  But none are what I would call "close friends" or "lifelong friends".  Maybe some of those feelings I have stem from being so far from my home state, and from my entire family.  I have a husband and son, and a dog.  Those guys are close to me.  But hey, they are guys.  I could use some "girl time" now and then, know what I mean?  Still looking for friends.  And this blog can at least keep me from just putting my guys through an emotional avalanche now and again.  I know I can overwhelm them with my feelings, and there isn't much they can do to fix it.  It's a lot of pressure to lay on them, when I know the real problem is me.  I need to do the work to build relationships with people here, and do so with the right kind of people.  

I made the mistake right after we moved here of building friendships with a couple of people most of the world would see as mentally unstable.  I think I thought at the time that I could relate to them, and that I understand people like that, people with mental problems.  But what I failed to see is that they don't see the world like I do, and they don't see friends like I do, and they could easily tear me down whenever life got too difficult for them.  I was an easy target, right there with low self-esteem, ready to apologize for things I didn't even do just to have a friend here.  They could vent frustrations all over me, and I would wipe it off and move on.  But they tore me down, ripped me apart, and took advantage of my forgiveness.  Honestly, it's not good to have people around you who make things worse rather than better.  I have my own problems as it is, and depression, self-esteem issues, and anxiety are tough to deal with on their own, without adding unstable people to the mix.  It's hard for me sometimes, simply because I have a strong desire to make things better, and to help people, and to be needed.  It's nice when someone sees you as kind, helpful, loving, and all the things you want.  But someone with a true personality disorder comes along, they can change that opinion in an instant without regard for all you've done for them, what can you do?  I tell myself it's not my fault, that they have problems that they must address themselves, etc.  But it still hurts, I have to say.  I don't like knowing there are people out there who think the worst of me, especially when I didn't do or say what they think I said.  It was inevitable though, the more I learn about personality disorders.  Not the kind of person I need to be friends with, with my issues being what they are.  I'm just not strong enough.

So this blank space will be here for me to talk to.  Thanks, blank space, for letting me type here.  I appreciate it.  I'll do my best to visit here, and to do what I said at the start, and that's to LOOK FORWARD.  I don't know what life will bring, but I know I'm always striving to be a better person, better mom, better wife.  That's all I can do.  I can enjoy moments with my family, see my son healthy and happy, and know I've done a good job where it counts. 

Thanks for reading.  :)

BB

Hi!

This is a new blog, and I thought I'd introduce myself a bit. I used to have another blog or two, but neither seem to fit my life anymore. Time to start anew, you know? And hopefully get it right this time. My old blog was based on my being bipolar, which I've since learned that I am NOT. So much for that. Thank goodness, honestly. I never really identified with that diagnosis, and someone I respect had convinced me of that, and no doctor ever confirmed it. So I am confident now that I have plain ol' run of the mill depression, with some anxiety. I can deal with that. Rather boring, truthfully, so I won't blog about it here unless something dramatic comes up. It's just not a part of my identity anymore, so I refuse to have another mental illness blog. Too many out there.

So the new identity? Why "disobedient"? Well, frankly because I don't know what it will be, and also because I'm a bad blogger. So I'm BB, the Bad Blogger here. I'm not very consistent, not always interesting, and I admit I'll be frequently boring. Hey, there, I said it. So don't be surprised. I admit it up front. There will probably be posts about what's going on in my life, what I'm hopefully up to, if I'm not too busy with everyday life, and some tidbits about hobbies, my family, and gosh, whatever other people blog about.

Do people read blogs anymore? Does anyone care this is out here on the 'net? What does this blog have to offer that no other blog does? Well, I don't know. But it's here.

Thanks for reading, if you made it this far, and hope to see you again.

BB