1. What did you think of 2009? I can't believe it's over. It feels like it just started and yet here we are...about to start over again.
2. What do you think was the news story of the year? I would like to say that it's something scientific and/or meaningful to the world at large; however, it's likely going to be the fact that Michael Jackson died. That's not the news story of the year for me but I can't think of anything else right now...so it'll do.
3. What happened this year that you never want to hear another word about? I don't remember. See? I've already forgotten. Hopefully everyone else involved has forgotten by now too.
4. What was your favorite song of 2009? Okay, this is going to sound...crazy but it would have to be Mylie Cyrus' "The Climb". It just fits me the best right now, which is how I judge most songs anymore.
5. What did you accomplish this year? I started seeing a pain management doctor for my Fibromyalgia, which is huge. I found a medication which helps with my Fibromyalgia. I stood up for myself with a bad therapist and with the help of AJ's therapist I found a new one. I cut off contact with Bonnie and Clyde (long story which will amount to an even longer post - it's coming down the line I promise) and their crazy counterparts. Those are the biggies.
6. Did you learn anything new this year? I learned I'm stronger than I thought when it comes to dealing with others.
7. What are you looking forward to in the new year? Change - my change not President Obama's.
8. What are your plans for New Year's Eve? Stay home and hang-out with Alex while AJ, Wyatt and Cooper sleep.
9. What's the best thing you ever did on a New Year's Eve? Stay home and hang-out with Alex while AJ, Wyatt and Cooper sleep.
Granted, I spent most of yesterday in the kitchen with the Alex's Uncle while he finished up linner (not really lunch but not really dinner either) because every time I tried to spend time with the family I ended up with my foot in my mouth. It could have been the Ativan, although I've never had this problem before. I would open my mouth and words would just basically word-vomit out without any inclination from me that:
A) they were coming
B) what the Hell they were.
It was bad. At one point, I looked at my siblings-in-law while they jokingly fought over which of us would pick up Mom B from work if Dad B wasn't home from taking Great Grandma B, Great Aunt and Great Uncle home. I walked up in the middle of the conversation and when invited to join said, "Well, if y'all must drink and will be too drunk and lazy to get up and go get her...then I suppose that just leaves me or the Alex. Now doesn't it?" Yeah, not my best move ever. I mean they all know I don't approve of their excessive drinking, underage drinking, and drinking and driving. But I've never been so...out and out rude about it before - at least not to their faces! (Only when venting to the Alex or Angel, my sister.) I didn't even know I had the thought in my head at the time! They invited me to join the conversation, I opened my mouth and *BAM*.
Earlier in the day at breakfast we were talking about this small family business that the Alex's sister, Jennie, works for. Her boss recently found out that his sister was stealing from the business, so he went to fire her but she quit first. So Jennie asks us, "If you were my boss and that were your sister, what would you do?" And again, I open my mouth and word-vomit all over the place. I have no idea what is about to come out of my mouth because it's not in my head first. However, it's now out there for all the family to hear and look at me as if, once again, I'm the crazy one. Oh and if you were curious, my answer was, "Turn her in. It's not like she was caught taking $5 or $20 out of the till (which I know is still wrong). She took large amounts of moneyrepeatedly over a long period of time. She took advantage of her brother and the family business and that's called extortion for a reason, it's wrong. I say turn her in and let her do her time. Let "Big Bertha" get a hold of her and teach her a lesson." Then I walked away. Just like that, I walked away as if I told them what time it was and nothing more.
As I walked away trying to figure out what the Hell had just happened, I heard IT. They were laughing - I was funny. No big joke there. I had just word-vomited all over the place. Then they began talking about me. No one understood the "Big Bertha" joke. etc etc etc Then it was why I was wrong. How could I turn on family like that? In all honesty, I wouldn't and I couldn't. I don't know that I have it in me. Unless you fuck up first.
If you steal that much money from my family business, essentially my family which thereby affects my ability to care for my family...It's on. For you to do that, you are not acting as a member of my family. You are acting for yourself. Why should I spend...or waste my time protecting you from yourself when all you've been doing is putting my family at risk and in danger for yourself?!Why should I help protect you from the consequences of your actions when you couldn't be bothered to think past yourself to anyone else, especially my children and my family?! Yes, you are my family. Yes, I love you. But that doesn't mean I have a duty to place you above the best interest of everyone else, including yourself. I would be doing a disservice to you if I allowed you to go without consequences. Nope, I don't get it. Apparently, I was alone in this opinion. Then again, I have a few actual years on all of them. Not to mention a few decades worth of life experience years. Plus, my life experience extends past surviving another night of binge drinking and drunk driving home without killing or hurting anyone.
I guess, I just wish I weren't so alone, in everything.
In the end though, I only had to take 3 Ativan to survive the day. Which is very cool. Although to be fair, in previous years I had to put up with Christmas gatherings with Clyde and Bonnie as well. But I'm not factoring that in. It's my life and my blog. So there! (How's that for a mature response?! lol) =)
That's right folks, you read it here first. My "goal" here was to survive the holidays with only 2-3 Ativan rather than 5+. Since I consider "the holidays" to mean family get-togethers, all of which were yesterday, and I survived those get-togethers yesterday with only 3 Ativan - I DID IT! =)
I was checking out some new blogs and I stumbled upon a post over at Becoming Hannah that got me to thinking.....
When I was a child, like 6, 7 or 8'ish years old. I had my own room. As an only child there obviously wasn't anyone to share a room with. So our household remained, myself and my parents, Bonnie and Clyde. Yet, I spent a good majority of my childhood trying desperately to create a "safe haven" within my happy home.
I was never discovered actually in my "safe haven". It was always discovered later. Bonnie would be cleaning and discover it. Then she would completely fall apart and the shrill shrieking would begin. She had the worst fit when she found my setup in the closet. I had meant it as a completely harmless, safe place to hide-away from the world. She assumed I was planning to hide in the closet if we ever had a fire. Because obviously as a 6+ year old child I had that all planned out.
The safe haven behind my bed was especially unacceptable (never mind being completely and horribly useless but I was running out of places at that point) because it did not allow my bed to sit all the way back in the corner properly. "What would people think?!" (Who was she planning on showing my room? Or inviting into my room? ???)
I loved the setup I had created under Clyde's desk, which was huge and old. It had a little shelf where you put your feet when you're sitting at the desk, which I of course felt was a sign from the heavens that this spot was meant for me. He of course had other thoughts about the area under his desk. So after hours and hours of work - including spider removal (and I have a horrible case of arachnophobia). I had to dismantle it all as soon as he came home from work. Bonnie had narked me out.
The one thing I still can't figure out, even to this day, is why? Why when I was an only child did I even feel the need for a "safe haven" or a "safe place" or a "hide-away"? I had my own room. What was out there that I clearly don't remember now but I needed so desperately to get away from then?
2. Everything was normal yesterday at the old kitchen table.
3. I watched the steam rising from the hot cup of coffee (or tea) and thought: it smells so good, I just wish it tasted that good.
4. Nothing is going to be okay until I can purge this nastiness and heal those wounds.
5. I'll take my old life back compared to this bullshit monstrosity I was just handed.
6. Fuck this shit, it sucks eggs at least from my point of view.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to working on Christmas gifts for AJ, Wyatt and Cooper; tomorrow my plans include working on Christmas some more; and Sunday, I want to try and forget that today ever happened!
Alex just got home from the doctor. It was one of those appointments where we were sure everything was going to be okay. I was just worrying about nothing. Everything isn't okay, right now. I wasn't worrying about nothing. Now we worry. Now we plan an attack for a battle we didn't know was coming against a foe we don't have an identity for.
1. Tell us about a night that you spent with someone who was a stranger, yet by the end of the night you were very close. He wasn't exactly a stranger, persae. I knew him - just not particularly well. We worked together and he went out with everyone to the bars sometimes but not very often. Then one night he showed up at this crazy impromptu party we had. I was tipsy and pretty much completely stoned...yeah, we knew each other pretty well by the end of the night. (Okay, that's about as far from "blunt and honest" as I can get. Let's try this again...) We talked and shared life stories. I don't remember his. Then we made out. He wanted more. I didn't. At least I don't think I did, either way, I passed out on his lap in a Lazy-Boy recliner. He just rocked me to sleep the rest of the night. It was...interesting.
2. When is the last time you rode the bus? One of my last days as a senior in high school. Wow, that feels like ages ago...
3. Describe the last time you stood up for a cause. Stood up as in formal, public protest? Never, unfortunately. Stood up as in one-on-one with another person? Pretty often, actually. I feel the need to speak up about the injustices of the world as I see them, which tends to get me into trouble.
4. What is something you would like to do, but you're afraid of the risk(s)? I would just love to out my adoptive mother for being the self-centered, neglectful, spiteful, abusive, sociopath that she is. Blog about everything I have been through (hopefully I will eventually - other wise this blog is pretty pointless). Stand up to my older sister. The list goes on and on...
5. What would you most like to accomplish before the year is over? Well, considering there are only 11 days left in the year I'm not hoping for anything major. How about completely potty training Wyatt? Or pulling the Holidays off without a major hitch? Surviving the Holidays without any massive panic attacks? Or surviving the Holidays needing only 2-3 Ativan rather than 5+? Those are about as good as it's going to get right now. (And look, I even mentioned one of the kids!) =)
6. Name something you'll miss about 2009. The fact that AJ will never again be 9, Wyatt will never again be 3 and Cooper will never again be 1. They keep growing up. Even though I keep begging them (well, some of them anyway) to stop.
7. If you could invent something, what would it be? Something that would make me rich but still unknown to the universe at large. =)
8. What first got you started blogging? Peer pressure. "All the cool people are doing it." Okay, not that peer pressure exactly but all my friends and some of my family were starting blogs. I needed a Blogger account to comment on a blog I liked and it just went from there.
9. How did you find this meme?From a blog of a blog of a blog. Isn't that how it usually goes? ;)
(Technically, this is the Saturday 9 meme from this past Saturday, December 12th. I happen to love questions and these ones seemed pretty good and some are sort of relevant to the purpose of my blog so I figured...why not do a bit of a time warp? ;)(lol)
This is my first Tuesday Toot and I figured I would just jump right in with the whole blunt honesty thing.
This week I had my dose of antidepressant adjusted.
Aside from the migraines and temporary insomnia I haven't functioned this well in a few weeks. Its nice to have at least one foot back among the living anyway. Lord knows I've been a royal bitch and a half to be around for weeks! Between bursting into tears over every little thing; to screaming at Alex because he was breathing too loudly or merely taking up space. Hell, there were moments I wanted to scream at myself for existing. Alex tried to help, which only made me worse. Even my therapist didn't seem to know what to do other than feverishly scribble notes. Now that my medications have been fixed...here's to hoping that life goes back to being...well, life. Anything is better than seudo-life I was stuck in for a while there.
I have many diagnoses; most stem from the tales you will read here. One is O.C.D. Grammar is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. Here, I will try to ignore it as much as possible. I apologize in advance but I feel that the purging and actual sharing are more important than proper coma placement etc. Although I will still try to remember to use spell check - some things simply cannot be helped.
I am almost 30 years old. I have been married to the Alex, husband #2, for nearly 7 years. I have known him for nearly 9 years. Together Alex and I have three children: AJ, Wyatt and Cooper. I am a work-at-home mom as a freelance writer. I have a dog, Boxer/American Bulldog mix, Miss Sue, and a cat, tortis shell, Sneezey.
Let's see. I love the colors blue and pink, fruits and veggies, drawing and writing (pretty much anything artistic), my children, my family, my Crackberry, and a bunch of other things that I can't think of at the moment. I love to journal the old fashioned way with actual bound paper journals and pens but blogging works out better for me because I can type much faster than I can write and typing tends to be easier on my arthritis. Plus, I happen to like the narcisstic aspect of it.
I'm really excited about this blog. Most of the posts on this blog are likely to be very sensitive in nature, thereby making the blog as a whole seem rather negative. I opted to place the warning in the beginning to attempt to give some sort of heads-up to my readers. I don't want anyone blind-sighted or triggers by the topics and/or the nature of my blog. I am hoping to keep things sort of light every once in a while, too. I've noticed a few memes around that I look interesting so I'll probably join in with those to try and keep in touch with the lighter side of life. =)
I won't be posting photos of myself or my family because I'm trying to keep this blog as anonymous as possible. I have been debating posting photos of my drawings and paintings, etc. I've never posted and/or shared those with anyone before. Not even my best friend or sister.
I don't want this to be all doom and gloom, woe is me. I want it to be honest, even if it hurts. There are things that happen, things that have happened, things that are happening now...that I want to share. Things that I need to share before they consume me. At the same time, I am absolutely terrified to open up for the very same reason...I'm terrified if I open up, it won't be a release at all and I will be consumed by it but only after its all been released.
So I intend to have fun. Do some memes - Friday Fill-Ins, Six Word Saturday, Saturday 9 - that sort of thing. Maybe share a crazy story from shopping etc. Mainly though, Washing will be for just that - washing. I will not stand in the ocean of salt water that washes over my open (metaphorical) wounds and keep my mouth shut any longer. Even if the only thing I do is to voice my pain in the" silent" safety of this blog, then so be it.
My hope is that between the medications, my therapist and this blog/purging I will finally be able to wash the salt from my wounds and allow them to heal. Even if that leaves me with horrible scars, I'm okay with that.I would rather live the rest of my life covered in scars than open, seeping wounds.
This blog contains my inner most thoughts on all things in my life, my heart and head. It is my goal to someday purge my soul of all the stains and heal the wounds I've been carrying with me for nearly my entire life.
There will be times when I will discuss triggering topics. If these will be difficult for you, I want you be warned now and not blindsided later.
I am a survivor, or so I'm told. This is where I come to tell my story. Dymphna is not the name given to me by my mother, but it is the name I have taken as my own to use during my "healing". The things I need to share, do not belong in my "real" life at least not now. So I will write them down and leave them here. Someday, perhaps I will share them with my family and friends. That day is not now.