I've not been thinking rationally for the past few days. Suicidal obsessions have invaded my mind. I cope by planning to run away, and by searching the Internet for information that could help me get better. Random thoughts flow through my mind, skipping from one to another...not related. I want to grab one, hang on to it, and think it through, but it's gone just as fast as it came. My kids are taking care of themselves, eating canned soup, cereal, take out pizza, etc. I've not been able to cook for myself so I'm eating hard boiled eggs that I keep on hand. I've not been taking my supplements or meds except for what my husband gives me when he thinks about it. I'm going downhill. This cycle has run its course many times over. One day I will wake up and everything will be fine again for no apparent reason. Just as there is no apparent reason for my inside world to have crumbled.
I couldn't make it to my cell group this week...not bathed for 5 days now and don't want to stink them out. My care pastor just plays it off like it's not as bad as I say. "You've never stunk anyone out." I've been in physical pain for a week now. My head has been affected for the last three days. My husband drills me trying to find a trigger. The only thing I can think of is worrying about spending a week as the guest of a woman who treats me disrespectfully during a vacation trip my husband planned without consulting me. Why that would bother me? I don't know. Also I have irrational anxiety about spending Christmas Eve with my mother-in-law. We have both become quite good at pretending to get along with each other. All is well until she starts to be controlling, and I start enforcing boundaries. Then there is the whole issue of my son telling me that he had a sexual relationship with his male cousin who is a year older than him. He told me that it was before he was a Christian. He has been a Christian for at least 4 years, and is only 10 now...so this was going on when he was a preschooler. I saw evidence. I walked in on my nephew holding a knife to my son who was completely naked and ran to take cover from me behind the toy box. It was 9/11...he was three years old if I recall correctly. I feared for my sister's life...was in shock at the time. I went nuts that day. I wasn't sure if anything sexual was going on or not. They were so young, but I did know that I didn't want to ever give this kid an opportunity to pull a knife on my son again. I dealt with my suspicions by trying to eliminate any contact between my nephew and my son...well ac tally between my nephew and mother-in-law, and all of us. You see, Mike's brother back in 1990 held a rifle to my head demanding I close the back door when he didn't like my refusal the first time he told me. Mike's father spent his time watching TV very loudly in the living room. The shows were always violent and frequently sexually explicit. I asked them not to do that around my children and was told they are too young to know what is going on on the TV. Well, actually they weren't too young. They were busy even as infants and toddlers forming perceptions of the world. I can only imagine the things my nephew has been exposed to. I even learned that my mother-in-law masturbated in front of Ashley when she would younger...too young my foot!!! I tried to keep them away, and there were tons of repercussions. I thought our move back to WV was to be temporary...just until Mike's dad lived out his last days...as he was diagnosed with liver cancer. But he lived 4 years after his diagnosis and they were good years for building a relationship between him and Mike, and with the kids. It was tricky though because it was very difficult to see him without seeing Irene and Warren. "Just until he passes..." I'd tell myself. When he passed, I was told we were staying. Oh was I upset. Now I have no coping mechanism. I feel so trapped and vulnerable.
"We don't have money to move" I'm told. We have a home in SC. I don't think we need all the stuff we have here...just a warm dry place to lie our heads, privacy to shower, clean air to breathe, and access to a good library. Mike does have a good job situation here, and those good job situations aren't a dime a dozen. It is a rare thing for a family of six to be able to live on one income and for Mike to be home in the evenings. But what is the real cost? My step-mother who tells me that kids aren't worth the trouble they cause, tells me not to have any more children while I'm pregnant with my 5th, and reminds me over and over that she cares more about her "stuff" than she does about any of us. She and Dad have made it clear that they aren't interested in attending any of the children's music concerts, basketball games, or birthday parties. Yet I see them weekly at church and on holidays at their home or ours and we play the game of being cordial, playing our appropriate roles, pretending we have a relationship. I've wanted to help my step mom with house cleaning thinking that might help us build a better relationship, but I'm just too sick. I'm physically not able to do it. But they sit on their money while my sister looses her house and while the kids and I can't pay for medical care. Our insurance company is a joke and a constant source of stress. Heather and Philip need their tonsils out. Ashley needs braces. I need more chelation. Luckily, Mike is able to trade computer services for most of his medical care.) Meanwhile Dad and Lee add on to their house (there are only two of them, how much room do two people need?) and remodel their kitchen....gotta have marble floors and more counter space. I know my attitude looks sick, and I didn't use to think that way. I used to think we should all try to be responsible and independent...Dad's money is for dad to use however he wants. He married a woman who spends money on vanity. He didn't seem happy at first, and that was a concern, but he seems happy now, and I'm happy for him. But the concern came when my stepmother asked me if I realize that the house I live in is hers. It was given to me by my grandmother. It is not hers. My husband has invested a lot in this house...my whole family has...under the presumption that it is ours. It was valued at $60,000 when we moved here, and my dad had wanted to bulldoze it down. We've put about $40,000 into it and a LOT of elbow grease. We've done everything ourselves with the help of friends. It's now valued at $135,000. My dad has failed to hand it over to us legally. I don't understand why. I've asked and it doesn't make sense to me. If we have to buy it from him at this point, we are paying for everything twice...and then some. The house is too small for our growing family. Mike wanted to add on, but Dad won't even do the paperwork to allow us to get a building permit. It aggravated Mike and now we are not allowed to talk about it. I've cut back on homeschooling so that we can function in our dining room/craft room/music room/homeschool room once again. I'm going to sell or give away all my homeschool supplies because I have no place to keep them. I'd prefer to study at the library anyway. I'm at my wits end trying to figure out a way to organize that would allow us to be able to homeschool without being totally overwhelmed again. But yet, they have built on a huge room to their home...bigger than my whole downstairs...and then tell me they can't even give Christmas gifts because it would mean loosing some interest on their investments. My dad has never been materialistic when it's come to belongings, but don't mess with his interest!! Oh yes, that almighty god... money. It means more to them than God, more to them than family. Whatever, more power to them, I would normally say. I just need to keep my focus on who my provider is. It's God, not them. But it sure does hurt to know they care so little for me and my kids. It's difficult on me emotionally to try to maintain a relationship with them. I understand that Dad wants to teach us responsibility. But I can't work because I'm ill, and I can't get better because I don't have the money...vicious circle. If I were the parent and my child was ill, I'd quit trying to teach them about responsibility until they are well enough to follow through with responsibility. I suppose he is still trying to punish me for having children without a college degree. Illness is what caused me to not be able to finish college, not the kids. And now we know it's something that might be treatable, so with treatment perhaps I can finish school and be something he could be proud of. If I were the parent , I'd also celebrate my grandchildren's achievements by at least being present, and maybe even a smile or a hug. I don't know what their problem is. My step mom says its just that she's already done enough of that sort of thing with her own grandchildren and great grandchildren, and she's finished doing it. My children don't count. I'm aware of the things she does for her own...and it hurts every time she leaves us out. It also hurts when she lies about it putting the blame on me. I sometimes think she believes her own lies. It's not doing me any good to dwell on it. I'm sick of wasting time trying to make a relationship better when they have shut me out and then say it's the other way around. Perhaps it is time to shut them out. That's what I want to do, but my conscience won't let me.
My grandmother left me this house because she appreciated me helping her when she needed help. She appreciated me spending time with her when she was lonely. She appreciated me having children. She told me she didn't want to leave this world until after she saw her first great grandchild. She called me every morning for months on end to ask if I was pregnant yet. I miss my grandmother. I wish she was still here. My mom? Well, there was no pleasing her. I could never be good enough. I'm glad she's not here to tell me what a failure I am when I'm not. We just saw life differently and I had different goals for myself than she had for me. I would have gladly met some of her goals that we shared, but I was not able due to illness. I was not able to ever please her, and her disappointment was painful. For that reason, I'm glad she is gone. I have vowed to not be that way with my children. I tell them often to seek to know what God would have them do with their lives. I tell them to pray that He will give them strength to do the things they need to do to follow through with His plan.
I dream of my home at the beach daily...of a life of fresh air, healthy relationships, lots of sunshine, a healthy mind and body. Mike and the kids are happy here. Someday his mother will die, and so will my stepmother. Probably sooner than later. They are up in years...60's and 80's, and are battling health issues. It seems to me that some people are too mean to die, and that seems to be the case with them. I scold myself. They are not mean. It's just that I have never learned how to relate to them in a healthy way. I know part of the fault lies with me. I'm working on that through counseling. I hate rejection and I hate abuse. I want to run as far away from that as possible.
Ahhh well...another morning gone. I better find something more productive to do. I was so healthy over the summer. It was the best time I'd had in years. I want to try to recreate everything in hopes I might have another window of health. Mike says the stress of tutoring caused me to crash. I'm inclined to think that the crash from the flu and chemical exposure is what caused tutoring to become stressful. As things were slipping, I was finding it more and more difficult to cope with Olivia crying for me while I was getting ready to leave. I had less and less energy to change my clothes every afternoon to go tutor. I was becoming resentful of the unrealistic expectations on me. Prior to that my attitude was that I'll just do what I can do and that's all I can do...lol. I became resentful that I'd been lied to about being paid, and that things were slipping at home because I no longer had the energy to do both. I was never paid. That hurt me somehow at a deeper level. Perhaps that could have been the trigger...learning after three weeks that I wasn't going to be paid and then trying to honor my word to do that job anyway. I lasted two more weeks before I just couldn't do it anymore. I suffered the humiliation of saying once again that I'm sorry, I just can't follow through. When I go to the school, the principal and my supervisor ask how I am. I feel guilty on days that I'm feeling well to admit it because I think I should be resuming my position at the school. On days I'm not well, I just can't cope with seeing anyone and try to stay hidden in my pajamas in the car.
Oh, what I'd do for a muscle massage right now...and a four course meal. A girl can dream can't she? I'll settle with the comfort of a warm bed (I have my heating pad) and a glass of water. My husband stays irritated with me. That deeply saddens my heart. I don't know what to do different. The best thing I think is if I talk as little as possible. I'm working on a some ideas for a schedule for me that keeps things simple and manageable. Perhaps I won't be doing all that people think I "should" but at least I'll be doing something and that's enough for me right now until I wake up and all is well again.
1. Reread and implement my detox diet plan (2 eggs, at least one salad, no wheat or soy)
2. Organize one thing each day (big or small depending on what I'm up to that day)
3. Do one thing that will make us a little more ready for Christmas (big or small)
4. Exercises: Start with Jumping Jacks. If I do that and want to do more, do the 5 Tibetan Rites. If I do that and want to do more, go to the YMCA to use their stretching contraption and walk 40 minutes maximum. If all I do are jumping jacks...it's ok...better than lying in bed.
5. Rub Mikes back or feet or both. This is soooo important. Makes all the difference in the world in how he feels towards me. We've not had sex in months. He doesn't even sleep in the bed with me anymore. He's got his own health issues to worry about (sleep apnea, high BP). Massages can bring us close and help him with his blood pressure. Oh how it hurts when I think of how he talks to me, so much irritation and disapproval in his tone. I've never learned to cope with that well...perhaps I'll get better at it...right now my heart is cold/protective. Massages don't have to involve talking. I'm practicing the art of silence.
6. Get my meds sorted and laid out for the week...and TAKE them!!!!
7. Write in my gratitude journal at least every other day, daily preferably, to keep my mind focused on what is good.
8. Go to bed on time and take something if I can't go to sleep the first hour.
That's 8 things, hopefully I can do that, and will start seeing improvement soon. I have lumps in my lymph system again. Mike would like for me to believe that this is all about stress. Stress doesn't cause lumps in my lymph system. It's not a topic we can discuss anymore. Nothing good comes from it. Sometimes I think we have a fake marriage. I've heard other people talk about their marriages and that makes mine seem like gold. I'm grateful for my husband and for his relationship with God. I wish our relationship was better, but no matter how hard I try, I'm not the person he wants me to be...maybe for short periods of time I am, but when it doesn't last, niether does his tolerance for me. He says he loves me. If love is sticking with commitment and providing for, then yes he loves me. If love is enjoying being together, growing together in the Lord, and working together to reach goals, then he doesn't love me. I'm grateful for what we have. I wish it were more. I get down on myself for being so difficult to love.
Looking forward to better days!
Marlena
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment