maybe one day i will...

 it's a monday, but feels like tuesday.

family is difficult.  or maybe i am. i don't know, anymore. 

i'm finding i have no time for bs.  not for anyone else's and not for my own.

family plans (that i wasn't excited about to begin with, but agreed to to keep peace) were canceled on both saturday and the rescheduled sunday with little to no notice.

i received a call last night from a family member that filled me with so much rage it is a miracle my house is still standing.  i don't want to go into details, but it basically boils down to a family member taking advantage of the rest of us and most of the rest of us enabling that family member.  

back in september, i reached a point where i could no longer handle conversing with my father.  i have a LOT of trauma associated with him and his treatment of me as a child.  he didn't physically abuse me in any way, but his mental and emotional treatment of me, plus his response to others treatment of me, was not a healthy way to grow up.  we've been on the fringes of each others lives for years due to my feeling like i needed to be there because, well, he's my dad. isn't that what you do for parents?  i thought so.  so after years of being told i was too fat, i didn't eat right, i don't work hard enough, i don't keep a clean enough house, i shouldn't spend my money that way, that i don't know anything about politics and i am going to hell because i'm not christian.  years of being told, when i become passionate about a subject and express that to him, that i'm being childish and need to "grow up".  i was d o n e.  i haven't spoken to him since september.  he sent me a check for xmas with a post it note and i mailed it back.  as far as i'm concerned, he doesn't exist.

all that was to say, that i told the family member who called me that the one they were complaining about is thisclose to getting the dad treatment from me.  i also said that if they and the others keep enabling them i'll cut them off too.

i'm not over-reacting.  i'm not being selfish.  i'm not being dramatic. i'm not being mean.

i'm trying to save myself.

every time i get a call about this (cause this is only one of probably hundreds of calls like this) i get sick to my stomach.  i get a horrible migraine.  i can't make myself step outside.  i close all the blinds and hide for days.  days that sometimes turn into weeks.

i realized that this morning as i was writing my daily morning pages.  my pages were full of this issue and the more i wrote the more depressed i became.  i wasn't thinking about what i was writing.  i just write and let whatever comes up, come out.  by the time i got to the end of my three pages, the tone had changed from one of frustration and anger to one of despair.  

normally, i end my pages with some affirmations and an expression of gratitude that i am alive. (it took me a long, long time to be glad that i'm alive).

these are the last few sentences from this mornings pages...

"i don't know how my being angry at ... about their behavior has led me to feeling like i shouldn't be alive anymore.  i don't know why i feel like i'd be better off dead.  that everyone would be better off if i'm dead. like no one would miss me.  like i was never here."

the thing is, this is not true.  i know this is not true and i don't want to be dead.  i'm not suicidal.  

the people that i'm this upset about are the people i have in my life to talk things out.  but i can't talk to them about it.  i have one other person i could go to, but they are on a hiatus right now of their choosing while they "figure out my (their own) shit".  

luckily, i have therapy tomorrow. 

i'll have a lot to talk about and that 50 minutes will be gone in a blink.

so, i'm writing this here.  i just needed to tell someone.  and you all are my someones.  

today is one of those days where i want to just walk away.  i want to walk away from my life and start it over somewhere else.  somewhere far away from the alcoholics and the narcissists and the enablers that make up my family. 

maybe one day i will.

but not today.

if you made it this far, i appreciate you.

i'm not feeling very full of love or kisses or any magical wishes today, so i'll just say...

thanks for reading...

~*~

maybe it's true...

ten years ago, one of my neurologists suggested that my severe chronic headaches and migraines were a result of ptsd.  when he said this, i laughed and denied that i'd had the kind of trauma in my life that would cause ptsd.  he sent me to a psychiatrist to be tested/examined for ptsd.

after meeting with the psychiatrist several times, he said i definitely did not have ptsd.  

now, all these years later, i think the psychiatrist was wrong.

i didn't tell either of them everything.  i never do.  

i keep a lot to myself, having learned early in life that telling things has consequences.  there are some things i just don't discuss.  ever.

i've been having a lot of flashbacks lately.  i've always had nightmares, insomnia, memories that overwhelm me, but that all has been getting worse lately.  

anger and i are closely acquainted.  i get so angry, sometimes, about the simplest and (i've been told) most ridiculous things.  and my emotions jump around so much that at one point i was diagnosed bi-polar (only to be told later by a different doctor that i was not bi-polar).

i cry all the time.  silly little things like hallmark commercials can make me cry.  this morning, i looked at my phone and saw a headline that an actor i adore had passed away and i've been fighting tears. 

i always thought the emotional rollercoaster was from being an empath.

now i wonder... is it ptsd?  

i saw somewhere something about complex ptsd not long ago and looked it up.

i could tick off every single symptom.

here is what set me off on this today.  in the post, i received a hand written letter from a person in the nearest town that i don't know.  when i opened it i found a two page letter about how i need to get right with jesus and god.  it included writings from revelations and a pamplet for the jehovahs witnesses.

my first instinct upon realizing that a complete stranger had written to me like this was to put her in the freezer or to put her in a jar. 

my second, was to find her number, call her up and lay into her about it.  i mean, i don't go knocking on strangers doors telling them they are going to hell if they don't get saved. (or sending them letters of same) - this action, btw, is one of my biggest issues with "christianity", but that is another post for another day

my third inclination was to write her back telling her how i feel about her rude and presumptive letter.

after a few minutes of venting my anger (a LOT of anger) in my head about her and her letter, i tore it into little pieces, along with the pamphlet and threw them in the trash.

so why did this (misguided, but I'm sure well intention-ed) woman's letter set me off so badly?  it brought back memories of an abusive relative who would write me letters filled with biblical quotes and telling me how i was satan's child and would burn in hell for eternity and all sorts of deliciousness like that...and how they couldn't associate with me as i would corrupt them... (btw - those letters were not the abuse they perpetrated, just the second rate form later in life)

so...now i'm wondering what to do.  i have had enough of psychiatrists and psychologists and therapists to last a life time.  seriously, more of my life has been spent in therapy than out of it.

but things are getting very much out of hand.  i fly off the handle at people for inexcusable reasons.  i've pretty much cut everyone out of my life (this was not helped by pandemic year) and am starting to get scared of myself. i cry for hours at a time and the headaches... well...i don't know how much more of this pain i can stand.  

honestly, this wasn't the post i'd planned for...

i don't even know why i'm writing all this...

just my way of asking the universe for help i suppose...

thanks for stopping in for a read...

love & blessings

~*~

 

 

 

 

seeking peace...

Is it just me or does it seem like the world is in complete chaos?  


I think in a way, there has always been chaos running rampant.  I think it seems so much worse due to social media.  It feels like we are bombarded with anxiety inducing words/images every where we turn.  

At least, that's how it feels to me.

I used to love Instagram.  I liked seeing the art people were creating, how their gardens were growing, what foods they were making and just fun things they were doing.  (It's easier to get through then blogging and faster to share as well.)

Then the "algorithm" changed.  Now, if I want to follow along with someone's process, I have to search out their account and scroll through their feed to find the first post, then the next and so on.  My crazy brain really likes chronological order, but that just isn't an option anymore.  

So I started to fall a little out of love with Instagram.  (I gave up on Facebook years ago and only use it to check in - very rarely - with online groups I joined - art, cooking, genealogy).  

Now I've noticed a new thing (I hesitate to call it a trend because even though everyone seems to be doing it, it isn't trendy).  We all seem to be experts at something.  And it seems to be our sole purpose on IG to tell each other how we should be doing something.  

I'm going to try to explain, but without specifics so this may get confusing.  

Example A: So & so is a specialist in a certain field.  They share how they got their specialty and how other types of the same field are not the same thing that So & so does.  They show how they work their work and that you shouldn't try to do like they do because they are specialized.  Then So & so says you can't put this & that in that space there because it won't work.  But you shouldn't even be trying because you aren't specialized like they are and you shouldn't try to "appropriate" something that isn't yours or your history.  All the while, mixing in posts about how they went there and learned that.  Then went here and learned this.  And since you haven't done that, you can't do this.

Example B: Such & such is REAL.  They tell it like it is and don't give a f*#k what you think.  A lot of their posts are about "keeping it real" and "you should be you" kind of posts.  They talk about how wrong racism is (well, duh!) and how people need to work together and defeat racism and racist people.  Then they post about how all white women are white supremacists.  (Um, isn't that a bit racist?)

I could go on with more examples.  But I don't think I need to.  I know you're probably thinking I should un-follow things that bother me.  Yep, you're right and I will be.  

My issue isn't with them saying what they think and how they feel.  My issue is that they seem to be saying the rest of us are wrong about how we think and feel.  My issue is how we are using these forums to say that we are right and you are wrong and you can just f off if you don't like it.  Worse, to me is that our children are learning that they can do and say anything they want, all on social media, and it is okay.

When social media first came along it was all "oh we can grow closer."  All I see is division.  All I see are accusations and condemnation.  Honestly, it drives me crazy.  I can't sleep at night because things I've seen or read have wormed their way into my brain and are scraping their sharp little claws into my soul and ripping it apart.

I'll say this.  I abhor confrontation.  I can't do it.  I get physically ill at the thought of it.  When people get into arguments around me I have to leave the room, sometimes even the building.  Because of this, I don't discuss religion or politics with anyone.  Ever.  If someone starts a discussion, I try to change the subject or I excuse myself to another area or room.  

Because of this people tend to think I don't have any knowledge about those subjects.  That isn't true.  I do have knowledge and I also have opinions.  I just chose not to share them so I can avoid a conflict.  

I try hard to follow where my intuition leads.  I listen to it with regards to pretty much all aspects of my life, particularly the magical.  

The last month or so I've been feeling angry.  Not just a little angry, very angry.  Banner going Hulk angry.  It just seems to keep building and building.  I don't know if it is all the anger out there in the world (and this country in particular) or if it is something inside me.  I do know, I don't like it.  Not at all.

Maybe Instagram isn't the place for me anymore.  Or maybe I should stick to just following art, knitting and gardening people and stay away from the other stuff.

Sorry, I just needed to get this out of my head.  I really didn't have anyone/where else to go with it.

I'll leave you with a photo I took of the shadows cast by some of my potted plants.  I just love the way they look.

Oh and before I forget, a Pig Pickin' is what southerners (USA) call a barbecue. (The having a party, cooking on the grill kind, not the shredded pork kind, that's actually called barbecue.) hee hee...

Thanks for stopping in for a read!
love & blessings
~*~

 

Fear

Do you ever feel afraid?  Not that shocking fear like oh there's a spider, but the deep dark fear that hides inside and keeps you from doing things?  Things like eating in a restaurant by yourself, going on a trip alone, introducing yourself to a stranger at a party?

I do.  I feel afraid all the time.  I only go to drive through fast food places, I might go on a trip once every two or three years, but it is very hard for me.  I feel fear just walking the hundred of so steps to my mailbox to get the mail.  

I don't know where this fear comes from.  I've felt it most of my life.  I even spent 3 months in my house many, many moons ago unable to barely open the front door to get the mail out of the box by the door.  I'd been driving to work one day and just turned my car around and went home.  I didn't leave for months.  I just couldn't.  

That crippling anxiety has kept me from doing so much in my life.  I wonder if that is why I'm alone.  Being scared just to walk through a grocer makes going out to meet people so difficult.  It's hard to make friends (much less get a date), if you can't look people in the eye.

My current biggest fear is that I'll never have any of the dreams I had for myself as a child.  The last one I'm down to that is even remotely possible, is to live in the country/mountains, surrounded by nature, not buildings.  It is something that I've wanted for so long, and I've looked into it many times, including making a couple of offers on property.  But they never worked out.  

Now, with my health getting worse, I'm terrified I'm going to live in the city townhouse for the rest of my life.  Not being able to see the stars at night because of too much light noise, the only wildlife being birds, squirrels and chipmunks. The sounds of bass thumping from cars and the nearby gym, cars honking and traffic on the nearby highway, my lullaby.

I'm not okay with that.  But I'm terrified to try.  I can barely hold a hammer or screwdriver.  I have very little life skills, and pretty much no country living skills.  I can't even climb a step ladder without someone here in case I fall again.  If I moved I'd not have any family (or my favorite handyman) near by and obviously no friends.  (Of course, I don't have any friends nearby now so that probably shouldn't factor.)   

So, what do I do?  Do I keep looking for a property in the mountains that I could be happy in?  Do I stay here and try to figure out how to adjust to not having any of my dreams come true? 

I don't know and I think that makes the fear worse.  It makes me more afraid of spending the rest of my life alone and dying that way.  

So, I don't know what I'll do, I just know that I have to figure out how to fight the fear.  I guess first, I need to figure out which one to fight.

Do you have any fears you're fighting?

Thanks for stopping by,
love & blessings
~*~

on writing...

I tend to want to come here and write more often than every four or five days, but I just can't seem to get here.  When I'm busy with washing dishes, painting, knitting or pulling weeds in the garden, I compose wonderful blog posts in my head.  Yet when I sit down at the computer, it's just crickets.

It's not as if I lead an exciting life, jetting off to here and there, or doing daring feats of amazement.  I'm just little old me, spending a lot of time piddling around with this or that and trying to live each day as fully as I can.  

Writing my blog has always been about writing for me, mostly.  I've always looked at those who come and read my words as, well, a bonus really.  That someone out there in the big, wide world would take a part of their day to read what I've written is a wonderful thing.  I always feel I have such little to offer that I get a little giddy when I realize someone out there is reading.  

Sometimes I feel I should be writing more for the lovely people who come here to visit with me and writing less for me.  But then I get so worried.  How is my grammar?  Did I spell that correctly?  Have I used this word too much?  Can't I think of a better word than that?

It becomes an endless stream of anxiety and that is very, very bad. 

So, I'll keep coming here when I can.  I'll keep finding words to share, whether they matter or not.  Sometimes, when I don't have words, I'll just post a photo.  I guess the most important thing for me to remember is that I like being here.  It makes me happy, and that is really the point.

thanks for stopping by, 
love & blessings
~*~

ps...this is not the post I came here to write.  it happens to me a lot, I'll start writing something and get carried off to another tangent completely.  oh well, i guess it needed saying.  :-)  xo