Monday, September 21, 2015

Identity Crisis

I know now my attachment to my children wasn't normal. Why I was so desperately needing their feedback on which to base.. my identity. I didn't have to look very far to find that not so mysterious reason. My childhood.

My abusive childhood stripped my identity from me.  I didn't learn who I was or how I fit into this big world. When I had my first child at 17 and quickly got married I fumbled around, mostly acting like I thought I knew the correct way to be a wife and mother. I needed to feel loved and wanted by my husband.. something I hadn't felt up to that point. I didn't get it.

He was an alcoholic and could get mean when he drank. I didn't like when he would hit me, but I was used to that. After all, my stepfather had been the same way. (The only difference was my stepfather was also a pedophile and sexually abused my sister and I.) I accepted my husband's behavior as *normal*. It was literally pounded into me this was all I was worthy of. The emotional neglect reinforced it.

Fast forward to the time when there were three children. I finally had someone to love who loved me back. I put everything I had into giving them a better childhood than I'd had. My husband had taken on the role as a non-participant in their lives so I did double duty.

I saw a different and better childhood through what they did and accomplished. I was living vicariously through them. It was at this point when my identity became abnormal. I still hadn't learned who I was as a viable, lovable adult so I was now attaching my identity to them. Since I didn't have anything else, they became my whole world. But children grow up and move away.

I can't go on right now. Writing this is like therapy for me and I know I need a break to let these new truths sink in. They are painful. And long overdue.

Sunday, September 20, 2015


I have divorced my children. It wasn't a long thought out decision. It was very spur of the moment but as soon as I made it, I knew it was the right thing to do. Now that it's been exactly a week, I'm not sure if what I'm feeling is sadness or regret. Maybe it's both.

I immersed myself in raising them. I tried every single day to let them know they were loved, that family comes first and home is where you are safe. My ex and I were always too poor to spoil them and they learned they had to work for what they wanted. They also learned how to have fun and be creative. I'll be the first to say I weren't the perfect parent, but I never stopped trying. Be honest. Be compassionate. Be responsible. Pay things forward. 

I remember the New Year's Eve when they got together without me for the first time. Sure, I felt left out but I was also happy for them. Happy that, even though they were grown, they were staying close to each other. I was happy they all still gathered at my place for holidays and such. After a while, their children came, too. 

Time has a way of passing and things have a way of changing though. All too soon Christmas Eve moved to one son's house and Thanksgiving to my other son's house. I remember the first Thanksgiving at my son's house when he made a point of telling me they weren't doing things like I had done all those years. I accepted that with only a little *ouch*. They were making their own traditions.

I met Mike a few years later. He and I got along so well and our relationship became more serious. In fact, the only thing we argued about was the subject of my kids. He thought they were taking advantage of me and I'd argue back that family comes first. I continually insisted they be included in as much as possible. In fact, I resented that he was trying to keep me away from them and eventually silently blamed him when they stopped dropping by as often. I thought it was because his family hadn't been close so he didn't understand. I know better now.

Five years after Mike and I met, we married and moved across the state, leaving my kids behind. I felt like I'd lost everything. Like a part of my heart had been ripped away.  My daughter would visit a few times a year, my sons maybe once a year. We drove over for holidays.

I started my first blog in 1996 and it was then that I began censoring what I said for fear of what my kids would think or say. I remember one daughter-in-law commenting she didn't like me calling my ex *Butthead* and asked me to stop. I did. Another trend started around that time and continued as I moved to Facebook. They never said a word unless it was negative or a criticism. I started to work for their approval.. which didn't come. I'm not sure why I thought I needed it.

Then the thing with Mike happened. My second son had never been as close to me as he was to his dad and it was then that our limited communication stopped. My oldest son was a bit aloof and was in favor of me finding a place of my own over here instead of coming back. My daughter was the most supportive and helpful. It was she and her wife who drove Mike to self-surrender in Pennsylvania, who helped me unpack and stayed a few extra days to make sure I was going to be ok. Not too long after that even she started drifting away.

I needed all of them them more than ever. I was so afraid and so new at this being on my own thing. My calls and/or texts went unanswered most of the time. I made excuses for them. They had their own lives to live and were busy. Blah, blah, blah. 

I couldn't understand why they were being like that. Don't we all know of  grown children who still help their parents? A son who will come over to fix things or mow the lawn? A daughter who will come to maybe help plant a garden or try a new recipe? The image of my children doing that for me was completely shattered.

There's the distance thing, of course. A two and half drive to three hour drive. I would have liked to think I'm worth the effort once in a while, though. My oldest son and his wife haven't been over here in five years, but they go to Florida twice a year. They've even driven this way several times for sporting events but didn't stop in. I've actually begged that son and my daughter to come help me a few times since Mike's been gone. 

So, last Sunday, one of those last straw things happened. I knew I couldn't handle how they made me feel any longer. I *divorced* them by blocking them on Facebook and from my phone. They know my email and they know where I live. I doubt I will hear from them either of those ways.

At the beginning I said I didn't know if what I am feeling is sadness or regret. It's both. Not because of what I've done, though. It's because they probably don't care. Maybe haven't even noticed..

Monday, August 12, 2013

Things That Go Bump In The Night

I remember being terrified there was a monster in my closet or under my bed. I would turn off the bedroom light and run and do a flying leap onto my bed. I imagined the monster under my bed reaching for my ankles and missing them thanks to my clever maneuver. Needless to say, closing the closet door at night was a must. And never EVER let an appendage hang over the side of the bed! I also remember that if I did hear a noise, I felt a lot safer if I pulled the covers up to my chin or even over my head (in extreme circumstances).

Funny how I transitioned  from that into liking what my daughter calls 'dead body shows'. I enjoy watching forensic type shows. There's one I watch where the narrator's voice is so soothing that I listen to it as I fall asleep at night. I recently watched a documentary on Netflix about the Body Farm in Tennessee. Disturbing, but interesting.

I'm fascinated (now) with ghost hunting and haunted places type shows. The more realistic, the better. I can't say with one percent certainty those shows with  people going into haunted places are true but I like watching them collect evidence with all their gadgets. EVPs, Mel Meters, voice boxes, thermal cameras. Oh MY!

I have a bookmark on my browser for a really nice ghost hunting kit. I'm not sure if I would ever have the guts to use it. A couple month ago, I almost went to the old Eastern State Penitentiary in West Virginia. It's supposed to be one of the most haunted places in the country. Finances and time constraints were a problem and the plan was cancelled.

Maybe someday I'll be able to go. Until then? I'll keep the closet door closed at night and my hands and feet on the bed.

Friday, August 09, 2013

No WoW

Ever since I had to give up my desktop computer back in December, I haven't been able to play World of Warcraft. I did get a real basic and inexpensive laptop a few months later but it just doesn't have much oomph. I can play, with a teeny bit of lag, at Pogo Games. I can do most stuff (games) on Facebook.

I sure do miss World of Warcraft though!!!

Wednesday, August 07, 2013

Hannah Runs

I've always felt bad for Hannah hardly ever being able to run free. The couple times she has was at the fenced in area at our storage unit. Mostly because I've always been fearful she would run off and I'd lose her. She's spent her outdoor life on a leash or tie-out (to go potty).

There's been a lot of rain this summer. For a while it seemed like every day! My yard got soggy. Hannah will not walk on soggy grass. I'd put her on her tie-out and let her out the door. She would sniff the grass, look at me and run back up the stairs. No amount of effort on my part could get her to step on that evil grass.

This led to taking her out the front door where there isn't as much sogginess. One problem. She's strong and can pull me and/or pull me down. I'd have Mike take her out when he'd get home.

One night I got brave. I let her out the door unleashed. She did her business without wandering too far. She came when I called her. I'm not so sure she would have if there had been distractions.. another dog, people, etc. I'm still not so sure. But I'm trusting her more.

Back to the point of this post -

Knowing the grass was soggy today, I let her out the front. I was holding her leash just in case. I let her wander farther away. And farther. Then I rattled her leash and called her. And she RAN to me. I did this with her over and over.

I don't know who enjoyed it more.. me or her.

Tuesday, August 06, 2013

Messed Up

I am very opinionated. That's a fact. Sometimes that's good and other times it gets me in trouble. But I'm always honest and, when asked, will tell it how I see it. Ok ok.. sometimes I don't always wait to be asked. *blink*

One problem is that my opinions are skewed by a past of abuse, lies and the ordinary and extraordinary things life will throw at you. I sometimes react in a way (maybe) the majority of people wouldn't. I've worked hard exorcizing the demons of my past. They are not an excuse for me or my actions anymore. Yet, old habits are hard to break.

I also have a degree of paranoia. I constantly worry about what others think of me. This can be very distracting and, in part, keeps me inside. I worry people will be repulsed by my obesity. In the store, I actually look around to see if I'm the fattest person there. Usually I am. I'm ashamed to eat in the car because I worry someone will drive by and think 'no wonder she's fat'. (I know at least one other person who shares this with me.) Because I'm a smoker, so I try to keep away from people so I don't offend them with my smoky smell.

Hmm. I'm a bit surprised how much I was able to come up with.. and how quickly. I better go think on it.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Good News - Bad News

First the good news. We finally decided a second dog wasn't the way to go for us. Last Sunday we adopted an 8 week old Humane Society kitten and named him Simon. He's already had his first shots and has been neutered. He and Hannah are working on becoming friends. We love him to pieces!

Here he is just chillin'.

I put up a YouTube video of Fishies for him to watch.

Now the bad news. After doing so well (for months and months and months) on my current psyche meds.. well.. I'll just say they need to be changed. My depression is getting really bad and my anxiety level is HIGH. (I have an appointment this month on the 27th.) I feel almost frozen in place and even the most mundane things are extremely hard for me right now.

I also have a fractured foot.

PLUS - About a month ago my primary physician took me off the med that helps with the stomach disease I have which was caused by diabetes. She said thought it was the culprit behind some other symptoms I'd been having. Ever since then I've had recurring stomach pain.

There's a couple other things going on but think I'm already sounding like a bit of a hypochondriac. I'll stop here.