Working Curtains

Well, the curtains worked. They are hanging, blowing gently in the cool breeze and much more welcoming than the clanking vertical blinds that I moved to the other side of the window. I got plum and gold. They warm the apartment up a lot. Feathering my nest always seems to help me feel better.

Kim stays with me on Thursday nights. She is from Brainerd and is also an MSW student. We are pretty close friends and found we have so much in common. It is good to talk to her and understand and delve a bit further into the crazy that engulfs me. She normalizes and validates and that helps a lot.

One thing that my therapist used to tell me was, "If you think you're crazy, you're not". I use that quite a bit with people - mainly friends so far - that feel they are losing it. It is actually quite logical, because those who act "crazy" thinking they are normal have probably really lost it.

The alzheimer's beast haunts me here. I go to the table to pick up a package that needs to be thrown away but by the time I get there, I grab the picture frame and wonder what I am doing with it. Perhaps a stupid mindless thing, but nothing seems small when it comes to forgetting anymore.

I laughed. I almost fell down this morning. Kim's husband texted her the message, "Cloudy, windy, foggy, rainy". She told me this prior to my first cup o' joe. I turned and said, "Sounds like a bunch of strippers." She and I both laughed hard at that one. I surprised myself that I could respond so quickly in the morning. Her husband is away on a photo seminar in South Dakota. I needed a laugh.

The leaves are changing into their fall wardrobe here. Reds, yellows oranges are vibrant against the greens that are more stubborn about shedding their summer garb. I love this time of year. Time to get the camera out.

Writing Down my Crazy

I awoke in the middle of the night. The bladder tells the brain to wake up to go to the bathroom, but the brain, like an infant decides regardless what the clock says, it is time to play.

My brain decided to question its own sanity. That's recursive and a downward spiral. Am I going nuts? Am I borderline?

This summer was toxic and painful for me. Brian and Jess did well in convincing me that all was fine until I returned. That didn't help with the sanity. I had to come back here and reunite with sanity to realize that it probably wasn't me. I cried a lot. Belinda and Darcy were going to come see me until all hell broke loose. Kim was contemplating a trip to Sioux Falls - we both decided it would be better if she didn't. I didn't get to see my children - Ben briefly, but not long enough. I feel so much guilt and pain. How much did I sacrifice not just this summer but over the past 10 years because of them? How much could I have stopped? If I think about this, I will drive myself nuts because I can't change it. I can only change the future.

I can't write fast enough to keep up with the thoughts that are racing through my mind. I spoke with Kim this morning and she reassured me that I am not crazy or borderline. Yet, I think of all my emotions that seem to take over my life. I am very weak right now.

My weak state means that I have to avoid certain things that will bring me to my knees. Sometimes that means not reading my dad's blog about my mom's disease and that heart-wrenching pain. I know that I need to know this. I know that my dad is hurting and has no escape from the pain. He reaches out through his blog, and I feel like I just can't right now. I can't do it. I have no strength to offer. But I did this morning and am sitting in Niagara Falls right now.

How do people do it? I know that I am very sensitive. Since I was little I would put myself in other peoples' shoes. I would turn red and be near tears when the teacher would intimidate another child. I probably took it worse than that kid! This sensitivity has led me to the path I am taking in my career. I can empathize with others very naturally. The downside is my emotional life. I live with feelings that I need to get away from.

After I went back to sleep, my dreams were strange. My ex-husband was dead, there were bees everywhere that Nick was trying to kill, and someone left a fetus in my flower pot. I have to get new curtains. Maybe that will help.

As if it wasn't bad enough...

Last night Brian had a friend stay over. This friend has a teenage daughter from a previous relationship and a child from his current. He was seeking refuge from his girlfriend (current relationship) and was drunk when he got here. Nothing like a third person to let me know no matter what, I am wrong and have no rights - even in my own home.

I am not trying to control how he raises her. The rights I try to assert are that I not be called a f@#$ing "c" word in my own home, that I not be verbally assaulted when I am doing a favor they asked me to do and that my home not be destroyed. Perhaps that is asking a lot. I dropped the rope on the parenting a long time ago - not my kid. I am simply seeking my own rights as an adult in a home I own.

Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be stepmoms...

If they find me dead, look for the presence of heavy metals. Otherwise, it's just a bleeding ulcer

The Dreaded Trip to the Doctor's Office

I love my doctor.

Today I went in for my dreaded yearly physical. She asked if there was anything new or anything that I wanted to talk about. I brought up my mother's Alzheimer's diagnosis and my foot problems. She asked me questions that seemed relevant. A few that I fumbled on were remembering the date, the season and if I ever have problems with remembering what I had for supper the night before. I also fumbled on the asking questions over and over. I have been catching myself doing that, but thankfully, still catching myself. I have difficulty with words and have been spelling things the way they sound but catch that as well. I forget the names of common items and it drives me crazy. She thinks my lack of sleep could be affecting my memory. I hope that is it. I haven't had a good night's sleep in forever. She wants me to try Ambien, but I am reluctant due to the addictive nature of sleeping pills. They were out of samples anyway...

Speaking with my siblings, I realize that it must be the nature of Betty's offspring, if not all the family members of the afflicted, to become newly alarmed at forgetfulness. That makes me feel better to know that I am not alone in this, yet I still feel selfish asking the doctor about it. I feel guilty. Mom couldn't get a jump on hers. They can do genetic testing. I am waiting to hear whom to call regarding this set up. I don't know about scans, if it would be too early to reveal anything about it. If I can get a jump on the monster, I want to. I would rather die quickly and with dignity and without losing my mind first.

I hate that damned disease. I hate that my mom has it. I don't want anyone else to have it. I feel for my father who has to live with his wife so physically healthy and drifting away little by little in the most painful ways.

Anyway, I also found out that I have Morton's neuroma. It is a thickening of the nerve tissue between the toes. I have severe pain from wearing shoes - any kind of shoe. Probably all the waitressing and other standing jobs affected my feet. Until the time and money birds poop on my doorstep, I will deal.

After the dr. office, I visited the optometrist. My eyelids feel like there is something on the inside of the upper lids. Not so. My eyes are rough and infected where my eyelids touch. They really want to close, though homework stress tries to keep them open. I got eyedrops. Whee! Oh, and one of my prescriptions is $700 dollars. I don't know if I will fill it again.

Thank You Darcy

I got a call this morning from Belinda. Seems her daughter is antsy and wants to go for a road trip. So, they want to come here! I'm glad about that! I can't wait. I know that things can change, but I look forward to this visit! We have not seen each other since our little trip last summer on our way to visiting Jess in Custer. We stopped in Wall and had lunch. Maybe we can take a trip to...? Where? I am taking recommendations for ideas for day trips if anyone has any ideas...

The Stepmother Saga

"I'm mad!" I say.

"I know" he says.

"NO! I'm mad at both of you!"

Then begins the tirade. The stepmom stepping on the father's toes. I tell him that I can shut up anymore! I'm too mad. There is a cycle going on that I can clearly see, but he, for some reason, cannot!

As usual, he is mad at me for being mad at him. This is the pattern. This is the crap that I put up with. He has been doing this since the beginning. He will hold a grudge with me for a long time.

He gets mad at her for 5 minutes, mad at me for years. That is the way it has been. She has a curfew of 11:00. She doesn't come home all night. He tells her she is grounded. From what?, I wonder... She goes out the very next night. He says he is going her phone away, but doesn't. At 11:30 one night, she goes up to ask him if she can go out (A car is waiting outside for her). They are shouting up there. She leaves with a smile on her face and doesn't come back until 6 a.m. or so. She brings him coffee and makes him breakfast. She stays in one night and then back to the same thing over and over and over again. She claims she is so stressed out that she can't stay home. Hmm... Sounds like she wants to go out and is using every excuse to make him feel sorry for her so she can do so.

Today I tell him that I am not a person derives happiness from saying, "I told you so!". I'm not. I tell him that finding her dead in a ditch somewhere is not the time to say, "I should have..." This child is running wild. She stops here to sleep occasionally and use her dad to buy her clothes, make-up and whatever she wants and takes off again. She single-handedly messes up the house and leaves it. I have tried to leave it for her to clean, but inevitably someone is coming over and I have to break down and clean it up. She has no set chores. She doesn't earn any privileges, just acquires them.

I know I was a strict mom. With Nick, I think I was too strict. With Ben a little better, but he allowed that. He was honest. I am trying to get to the point where I can honestly not care about her anymore, or Brian, but why can't I get there?! What is it that is tearing me up on the inside? that drives me nuts about the whole situation? Why can't I just leave it alone and shut my mouth and not be as upset as I am? I keep thinking that he will reach a point where he says, "that's enough!" but it is going to take a lot! I am seeing a destructive pattern here.

Tell me, what do I do? How do I cope with this?! I really want to go back up north and sever these ties. I've thought about it. I've secluded myself up in the bedroom so I don't have to be around it.

Sorry, Mom, but there are reasons I am not marrying him.

I also got my iPod stolen. She let some guy in here that she doesn't know well, "to use the bathroom" and my iPod and Brian's headphones disappeared. Her iPod also disappeared when this stranger said he would charge it for her. He said someone stole it from him. She said that she feels so bad about it that when the guy pays her back for it, she will buy her dad new headphones. I am invisible. Worthless.

When women become stepmoms they, like zombies, should have their mouths filled with salt and their lips sewn shut.

Mire

Sometimes one can put their emotions on the back burner. A fire starts and the surprise, shock and all related emotions wait until everyone is safe and then they run freely. I've always been able to do this. This has helped me excel in emergency situations. I fold later.

As I have gotten older, I have learned to do this with other things. My 9-year relationship takes a dive and I have homework to do. My mother diagnosed with Alzheimer's and I cry, then back to work. My son in trouble with the law, final papers... Brian's parents selling their home to possibly move full-time to Arizona...research proposal. Ben enlists in the Navy, more homework.

Life is full of ups and downs. Throughout all, chop wood, carry water. I see it as surfing on top of the waves.

Yesterday, I was reading for one of my classes and drip. Okay, that was odd. Drip, drip... Like the beginning of a storm, the tears just fell faster and faster. There was no cognitive emotional front to this. No connected thought that brought it on. I was confused and actually kind of laughing about it. Finding it difficult to read, I got up and threw a load of laundry in. Still dripping. I got in the shower and finally it stopped.

Today I was watching a tv show that reminded me of Ben's joining the service and then it occurred to me that I still have all this stuff that I compartmentalized to fully address later. I think the stopper is coming loose from the pressure. My research proposal is not done, I still have a paper due in another class and I'm leaving for the summer institute tomorrow. This is not a good time. But, is it ever?

Crawling out of my skin

My demons within are rearing. I have tried to prepare myself for this, but there is only so much I can do. Those who have lived with me know this about me... This horrid creature is called OCD. When I went home to help with Jessica's tonsillectomy, I couldn't stand the disorder. I couldn't wait to get back home to the order. Now I am living in this mess of moving.

My therapist used to leave the rice from play therapy on the floor for my session. I could handle it for an hour. This is more than an hour. The anxiety of living this for weeks on end is going to be my undoing. My anxiety level is high. I can't wait until Thursday but until then, the misery is not leaving me. There is no way to escape it. I know I can leave the house, but have to come back to it.

When I moved here, I had everything unpacked and put away in a short amount of time. I think, possibly one or two days. I definitely found a way to have most of the house in order at all times. I couldn't handle living with boxes all over the place. Now there are boxes and boxes and boxes. I can't move around. I can't go anywhere where everything is in its place where it should be for me to inhale and exhale properly. I keep catching myself holding my breath, tensing my muscles, and being very edgy.

My friend Kim is coming this evening. This is a relief. She and I can laugh about it and drink some wine and somehow I hope things will be better. Until then, I have to try to work some semblance of a life around the boxes and the monster.

and i cannot find the charger for my camera battery!

S. O. S.

Education

I really wish that we could educate ourselves according to the direction of our curiosities.

Blue-Flashing-Light-Special at the Clinic

Since the h1n1 scare is over, we were told that we once again require valid dr. excuses for our absences due to illness. I left class Tuesday, all hot and sweaty and feeling ill. Wednesday I missed my internship and Thursday woke in a feverish haze. The 3/4 pot of coffee had no impact on my eyelids staying open. I felt drugged and rereading the assignment due for class that day had still not left an imprint on my brain. Knowing the new policy, I called Student Health Services. They wanted me to come in.

When I got there, they took my temp, checked my blood pressure and all that fun stuff. Noticing that I was weak, shaky and hazy, they gave me some juice to try to help. They wanted blood work, so I assumed I looked too sick to move on to the next patient. I have had tons of blood work taken in the past 10 years or so. I am no newbie to that and usually have no problem remaining vertical throughout the process. Today was an exception. She took the blood, brought it over to the counter, put my information on the computer and was continuing with her stuff. Perhaps 3 minutes after the retrieval of my blood, things started to look fuzzy. I asked her if I could go sit in the waiting room but she said no. I think I would have been fine. Needless to say, I passed out. When the fuzz dissipated, a cute young fireman paramedic was trying to put an oxygen mask on me, shortly thereafter, a couple of ambulance drivers showed up and then I noticed a police officer standing there.

After I regained my composure, I declined the ambulance ride. They wanted me to go to the hospital for further tests, but would not allow me to do so on my own. One of the clinic nurses and I rode in the police car to the hospital where I eventually checked out fine with a diagnosis of an upper respiratory viral infection (a cold?) complicated with a fainting episode.

They said I should be over the viral infection within the next week. The embarrassment of a 911 response to my passing out could take a while longer to recover from.

The Day from Hell

I awoke reluctantly yesterday. It was my first day back at my internship since Christmas break. The coffee just couldn't affect me fast enough. Obviously, because silly issues like do I wear my glasses or my contacts were just too complex for me. I decided that one when my glasses fell to the floor as I was stepping in that very spot. The lenses were intact, but the fine cord that held them to the frame was broken. Contacts apparently.

I didn't know when my first client would be, so I parked far away in the garage - in case I had to leave and return. If I returned, the chances would be better if I was parked far away that I could return to my spot and not relinquish an entire day's worth of coin to the hungry meter and an opportunist.

The day was okay. One client was beyond frustration and I sensed that she like the daughter we were trying to help her parent had given up. She seemed to shut down after a comment made by my co-therapist. "That would never work," was all she had to say about the parenting video we watched. I wished I could pull her out of her frustration and shake her, but she is worn by her oppositional child and is showing signs of negativity and opposition to anything we could throw out of our bag of tricks. This mom needs a break. Unfortunately, the situation is that her daughter will never be able to see her father again. The mother is on her own. His side of the family has disowned them, not being able to accept what the father did to force it. Guilt? Maybe. They knew. But this mom has no help. She shoulders the guilt of the child's problems and all the responsibility to raise her.

When I returned to the office, I got caught up on on my cases, reading notes and talking to co-therapists. I entered notes on the last two cases I saw and did further research on issues arising in one of the cases I share with my supervisor. The mother of two children we are working with is trying to get custody of her grandchildren. Her daughter is homeless and had the children taken away. The children were staying with their great-aunt. Her sister (our client) called IIU and reported that it was not a good home for the children. That is being investigated as well. Relative foster care is the preferred situation for the county in removing children from their parents. Not only is it less traumatizing on the children but if you follow the money (as in all government run programs) you will see it is cheaper than regular foster care. I am not sure how they will handle this, because our client has her own issues that don't make her a shining candidate. Does the county find a good home for the children in regular foster care? or someplace with family that is the lessor of two evils? What indeed is best for the children? We will never know.

I was showing my supervisor the information that I found on the case and looked up and realized that I was running late. I had 10 minutes to run through my mouse maze and drive to the next client. In city hall, I had just finished my long underground incline run and had made it to the elevators. The bell dinged and both doors were open. I took the one that was indicated to be going down. I missed the small sign indicating why I might not want to take that elevator and proceeded to trip over the bottom of the elevator that was 4 or 5 inches above floor level. Apparently the elevator was out of order. Usually when this is the case, they have the bold black and yellow "do not cross" tape across the elevator. My knees smacked hard on the bottom of the elevator and I cried, "Ouch!" instead of the profanity on the tip of my tongue. It just so happened on that day there were other people around. Two men who ran to the other elevator and held it for me, but they had already made sure that they pressed "4" before I got in. I was going to "G". Nice. I got to ride up to the 4th floor with them. Oh, by the way guys, I'm fine thanks for asking - NOT!

I wanted to call my boss and cancel so I could just go home and crawl in bed. I hit hard and could feel the knees swelling already. I was stiff. I was sore in all the once-in-awhile ache places as well. Back came the stiff neck, the lower back, the rotator cuff... I had really jarred myself. Years ago in the parking lot at HTI, I slipped on ice and fell hard onto my knees. I had to go into the dr. that time and found that I had water on the knee - Yep, the bucket in the OPERATION game. Ever since then, I haven't been able to walk on hands and knees or kneel on hard surfaces. Not that I do that alot, but you know...

I got to the client's house and my boss was already at the door. Usually I beat her there. When I got there, the door was open and apparently our client was on her way out. Cancellation, I hoped? Nope. We were to wait for her as she drove her son to his thing. great. So, as we sat there with the client, my knees continued to swell. When I stood, I could hardly bend them.

The night was not over yet. I still had to get my glasses fixed (I am blind without them), go to the grocery store, stop at the bank, and pick up prescriptions. Needless to say, none of these simple activities could be all that simple. I stood and waited at each place. After the treatment from the guys at the elevator, I wasn't feeling particularly charitable toward my fellow human being. I have to be true to myself, though, and helped the checker lift the microwave in the cart ahead of me so she could scan the bar code and pick up the grapefruit that rolled beyond the produce guys reach. Damn.