Insecurity

It's funny how events happen that bring a particular issue to light. Something last week sparked my recollection of when I began dating my XDH. Then I had a conversation with my friend J last night that brought up the insecurity issue even more.

I feel such pity and shame when I think about what I said to my XDH. I had been dating someone else on & off for several years when I met XDH. XDH said he wanted to date exclusively and so I was going to break up with the other guy. As I was getting ready to break it off with other guy, I called XDH and I asked "Are you sure you want me?" Before I do this, are you sure you want me?? Because I didn't want to let go of one crappy relationship til I was certain I was "secure" in another.

I guess I've always been insecure but certain times in my life, I've been better at hiding it. Hiding it so well that even I didn't see it. After my divorce, I was feeling confident in my physical appearance but emotionally still very insecure. I didn't know it at the time. Men wanted me and I knew that I could be whatever they wanted me to be. That was the secret of my confidence. I still didn't know who *I* was. So while this came across as massively confident and secure, I was really looking for someone else to make my facade a reality. I just wanted someone to love me and that would "assure" me that I was worthwhile. And I would find my security in them. At least til they screwed me over which I would then blame on myself and find another guy who I would turn myself inside out trying to please and trying to make him love me so I could grasp some security for another snippet of time.

Lately I've been musing over the single parent life and the isolation I feel. I realize, though, that in part I do this to myself. It became evident last night how tightly guarded I still am. I often feel sad at how few friends I have and how few people I can reach out to for support. I think about my friend, J, and how many people she has in her life and I feel envious. I was talking to her last night and she was asking me if there was a way for me to network with other single moms/parents. I told her how I've tried a Mom's chat board, a Yahoo group for single moms, created a myspace page, joined what is basically a "matching" service for mothers who want other moms to meet up with. And how miserably all have failed. With my schedule, it's just so hard to commit to anything in the "real" world, not to mention that I have yet to find such an outlet.

J suggested that I get in touch with a woman I was talking to at a recent birthday party we both attended. The woman is also a single Mom and we had a great conversation at the party. But she has 7 kids. As soon as J started suggesting this and talking up what a great idea it would be, my mind was saying "whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!!!!" Every excuse in the book was flying to my mind. How busy single parents are and especially her with that many children. But what it came down to in my mind was "why would she want to spend any of her limited spare time with ME?" And "why would I put myself out there asking to be her friend and give her the opportunity to reject me?"

I say I want friends but I don't do anything to cultivate that because I'm so insecure about what I have to offer. And I'm too scared to make myself vulnerable. I am isolated, in part, because I choose to be. Even here, in virtual world, I visit so many other blogs that I admire but I almost never leave a response because I don't feel my words are worthwhile or relevant. In turn, I don't get alot of replies on my own blog which then perpetuates my negative beliefs about myself. I've created a self-fulfilling prophecy. I feel isolated because I isolate myself.

I'm just not sure what's going on with me right now. This post isn't flowing with the right words and it's not expressing the depth of emotion. Oh....I'm not expressing the depth of emotion. I think that's the problem. I think this is a very scary and vulnerable issue for me and I'm restraining my emotions as best I can which is why I'm feeling numb. Which is why my writing seems so perfunctory and detached right now. *~*~*~*~* I took a break in there for a while, did some breathing and tapping. I still feel fairly numb. I feel sad, actually. And I feel incapable of putting forth the emotional investment necessary for me to obtain what I desire.

Tagged

I was tagged by Breaking the Silence to do the following. Thanks, I'm in need of something like this!

1. I'm tired of: Feeling like there are not enough hours in the day to accomplish everything I want and need to.

2. I need to keep: motivated!

3. I am listening to: nothing, really....the hum of my AC, my co-workers talking and the incessant jingling of another co-workers chain belt that sounds like a dog collar.

4. I wish: I could win the powerball.

5. Chocolate is: necessary for survival.

6. I have lost my respect for: my mother. My boss. And pretty much 98% of all mankind.

7. I last ate: cobb salad & 1/4 of a spicy thai & basil chicken wrap.

8. Someday: I'll be organized again.

9. I will always remember: lots of things, really. Good things and bad things.

10. Love is: a big fat pile of bullshit. Bitter, party of one................

11. Today is: improving

12. Tomorrow: will probably arrive too soon!

13. Party: birthday? polictical? I don't get the question.

14. Where is your cell phone? next to me on my desk

15. Tired or Energy: Tired

16. Are you wearing jammies? I wish...but I have a feeling my boss would frown upon it.

17. Upset at? DD's sperm donor

18. Last beverage: coffee. Lovely, divine, nectar of the Gods Coffee.

19. Last phone call: work related, unfortunately

20. Last time you cried? this morning

21. Fallen out of love? I don't think so....maybe kindof. But really, I never loved him for real in the first place. I think it was more realizing that as opposed to falling out of love.

22. Laughed until you cried? Oh yes, thanks to my friend J, many, many times! Laughed until I've cried, choked, peed &/or shot various beverages out my nose!!

23. Met someone who changed your life? Doesn't just about everyone who enters your life in a significant way change your life in one way or another? Definitely yes, many people.

24. Most interesting thing you've done today? Looked at a website for one of my clients who is selling their 26,000 square foot mansion with photos and video of the house and grounds. Complete with glass enclosed wine tasting room, brick pizza oven, indoor pool, 52 foot ceiling in the great room & on the grounds are the bear & bull from Wall Street. I simply cannot imagine living this way....but I'd like to try if I could accomplish #4 on this list!

25. Favorite number(s): Don't have any

26. Current mood: "Eh"

27. Last people you hung out with: My co-workers at an office lunch.

28. Dream Car: Classic Olds 442 Coupe

29. Hair: Auburn, long & curly

30. If you could have one thing, what would it be? A (simple) cure for all types addiction. Like "Here's a shot. You're all better now."

31. Birthday: June

32. How's your life? Not as enjoyable as it probably should be

33. Last time you held hands with someone? This morning walking my DD to daycare

34. Last hug? This morning dropping DD off at daycare

35. Ever crawl through a window? Why would I do such a thing? There are these convenient larger openings called *doors*...................

36. A weapon to suit your personality: A whip....more specifically a cat-o-nine-tails, because I tend to lash out.

37. Where's your mom? In her OWN world!!

38. Morning or night? Morning

39. Last movie? Alvin & the Chipmunks, LOL

40. Scars: Many, visible and non.

41. Thing about the opposite sex you first notice: Eyes, smile, shoulders

42. Dye your hair red? I've done it. Probably not again, though.

43. Worst personality flaw? Impatient. (Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.......)

The Way Things Were Never Supposed To Be

Several things have gotten me thinking about DD's father. There was the incident this past weekend at the dentist office & the store. Speaking with Enola about her pregnancy and impending addition to the family. And yesterday, some child support issues reared their head again.

I've shared some of the story of the circumstances surrounding how my daughter came to be. Maybe I'm just in a "poor me" mood as I sit here hating so much of this situation and I reflect back on this bittersweet journey.

I've always wanted to be a Mom and always had envisioned the white picket fence, husband, 2 children, dog & cat. That's not the way it works for most people, I know. And honestly, things would have been worse if I'd been married to my XDH and had a child with him. I was in the process of divorcing him when I met DD's father. He turned out to be nothing he originally portrayed himself to be. I take responsibility for my role in perpetuating the fantasy.....I overlooked so many things that should have set off my warning bells. When I discovered I was pregnant, his first response was "Oh Shit." The following day, through text message as I sat crying at the hair salon, he told me he'd help pay for an abortion but didn't feel he had anything else to offer.

Becoming pregnant was never supposed to be a questionable, confusing, less than thrilling event in my life. People were often unsure how to react to my news. I'm pregnant! Errrr, Congrats? It's not supposed to be a question, right? My mother was ashamed to tell certain people. She was supposed to be excited about becoming a grandma, right?

Throughout the pregnancy, my communication with Donor was limited and only done through email, text or IM. I often had to chase him down for answers. My childs father was never supposed to be avoiding me. I went to appointments and ultrasounds alone, no one to share the excitement of the heartbeat. No one to "ooh & aah" over this tiny growing life rolling around inside my belly. No one to rub my swollen feet, to feel baby kicks with me, to peruse baby name books with, to register for baby items with.

I planned my own shower. I had to buy everything else on my own (well, my mom did buy alot for us). I had to accomodate a crib & changing table in my 1 bedroom tiny apartment in the basement of my mother's house. No nursery, no theme. Just trying to cram the necessities into an already full space.

The day after my shower, I went to the birth class at the hospital by myself. No one to go with me. I felt like such an unlovable, pathetic loser. I sat in the back, simply wanting to disappear into the wallpaper. I was so mortified at being there alone that I actually donned my old wedding rings and made up a story about my "husband" being called out of town unexpectedly for his sick father. I figured I'd never see any of these people again so it didn't matter if I told a white lie in order to make myself more comfortable. Laying on the floor doing breathing exercises.....all the other women excitedly snuggled in against their DH's or partners. Me? Propped on a pile of pillows. And then at the end of the class, I went into labor prematurely. And the nurse teaching the class rushes me upstairs to Labor & Delivery and says "honey, give me your husband's phone number so I can call him for you" and I have to shamefully admit I'd lied. Laying there in the hospital feeling more alone and humiliated than I can ever put into words. Feeling as rejected as a person can feel. And trying to reach out to DD's father to let him know what was going on. Still trying to engage him and force him to care about his soon-to-be-born child.

Through bedrest & medication, they were able to hold off labor for another 2 weeks. I was in the hospital for 10 of the 14 days. Laying there alone except for almost daily visits from my Mom bringing me clean PJ's & peanut butter sandwiches. I felt so isolated. And had Waaaaaayyyy too much time to think. I went home and then my water broke 3 days later and there was no holding back DD's birth any longer, still 7 weeks before her due date. Packing my suitcase in silence, alone. My mom drove me to the hospital which I hated. My mind was racing in every direction. I was terrified, excited, unsure.....it was completely surreal. It would have been nice to have support. Just someone to hold my hand and say "I'm here with you" I went through labor with only the hospital staff at my side. After DD was born, she was whisked off to NICU and I wasn't allowed to see her for several hours until she was stabilized. I showered; I sat there completely numb. I texted a few friends but I really wasn't all that close to anyone at the time. I'd been trying to call Donor since I got to the hospital. Not only did he never answer, but eventually he turned off his phone altogether. I caught him at work Monday AM (DD born on a Saturday). He said he'd come see us, said he'd come sign the birth certificate. He did neither and went right back to avoiding me.

Finding my way with my first and only child has been difficult. I never had much experience with kids and I felt so clueless with no one to turn to for an opinion, to vent, or for praise. Making all the decisions about her health, her care, her education, activities, discipline.....while sometimes I feel like the lucky one when I see other parents at odds about how to handle things...it's also very isolating. It's all on me. Knowing my actions, my choices, my words are shaping who she will be for a lifetime is scary. Not having someone to share in the milestones, the frustrations, the celebrations....it saddens me. It saddens me for me and for her, also. Dealing with her questions, her friends questions about why she doesn't have a Dad....having to skirt the subject in so many routine interactions....it's hard. I still feel isolated. I don't feel comfortable making play dates with other families. I feel "different" being a single mom. I'm sure I manage to exude that attitude and it keeps people away from me.

A child support issue came up this week. We're scheduled to go back to court for an enforcement hearing next week since SD hasn't paid since March. Recently he did begin payments again but not at the ordered amount. I'll keep a long story short but, in conversation with the case handler, I discovered yesterday that someone at the court "overlooked" the $8,000 of back support that he owes me and it was never entered into the judgment. Overlooked.....that is how I feel. So I've missed 2 years of his tax refunds at the very least because someone didn't take the time to read the order carefully. Man, that pisses me off. It just seems like I'm sailing along smoothly for a while and then BOOM!!! Titanic meets Iceberg.

Never ever do I regret that I have DD. I have something wonderful that came out of a bad situation. It's just now how I imagined my life would go. I wanted DD to have so much more than I had. I wanted her to have a "whole" family. And I know that she's got me and we're a family. I know that she's better to have one loving Mom than to have two lousy parents. I know all this. It's just not "the fantasy". You'd think I would have learned long ago that the fantasy doesn't exist.

Roulette

One of the big symptoms of my stress, anxiety and panic is chest pain. I often fear I’m having a heart attack. Before I went on meds, I was in the ER several times convinced I was having one. My Dr was good enough to order all kinds of tests to rule out cardiac issues which temporarily put my mind at rest. I do have a risk factor. Though I’m only 39, I am overweight and that scares me. If I did not have my DD, I’m not sure how much I’d care. But I have a horrific fear of dying and leaving her at a young age. It terrifies me to think of what would happen to her without me since she doesn’t have another parent to raise her. I know my mother would take her and I guess that scares me more than anything....thinking my mother would somehow fail to protect DD the way she failed to protect me. Fearing DD would end up just like me.

You would think this would make me uber conscious of my health but it does not. I continue with my eating disorder. I haven’t done much to deal with it. I’m avoiding some blood work my Dr ordered months ago because I know things have changed for the worse. Really, I bide my time. If you could hear inside my brain, it would go something like this:

“Grandmother was XX old when she died. Aunt was XX old when she died. Father is XX old and he’s still alive. There is [this person] who is XX old and he’s morbidly obese and he’s still alive. And then there’s this other person who was only XX when he died of a heart attack. Now….I know my cardiac workup was perfectly fine 2 years ago so I’m probably still okay. If I can just make it to XX age, then DD will be XX age and she’ll have had enough of my influence to be okay for the future.”

How sad that I don’t demand more for my life. How sad that all I do is calculate the odds like a big old Russian Roulette. How sad that I’m only trying to eek out a certain amount of years and, in the meantime, accepting feeling like crap and allowing my addiction to consume me, quite literally.

With no big fanfare, this morning I looked in the mirror, disgusted at what I saw and just knew I had to try again to face the demon of addiction. Usually, I have a “planned” restart day (generally a Monday morning) and I binge like crazy before hand in “preparation”. Not so this time. I just want to feel good again. And I want to make better choices and I want to be healthier to enjoy more years and more activities with DD. Why is food so much more powerful than those wishes? As I looked at myself with these thoughts in my head, I thought with every bite and every binge, I make my addiction more important than my life. I make food more important than my daughter. And that is unacceptable.

So I start again. Day One. Last time I made it to 60-something days. I lost motivation because I wasn’t losing any weight. I think that might have to do with the Effexor I’m on. So I go into this not expecting a loss but rather with the mindset of facing the reasons I make the choices that I do. Frankly, once I can face those, I can probably come off the meds and then hopefully I can start losing again. As Oprah says "It's not what you're eating....it's what's eating YOU." I know this is emotional in origin and I want to get to the bottom of that so that I no longer feel the urge to stuff it down with food. But for now….back at square one.

Thumb Sucking

DD is a chronic thumb sucker. I’m having issues with this. First of all, I’ll admit it. This is the least of my issues with the situation and it’s a horrible thing to say but….it’s making her look different and that bugs me for some reason. I perceive some sort of "judgment" of me through DD's appearance and actions. It's wrong, I know and it's setting her up to carry this "perfection" complex that I have. I'm working on it....I'm working on it. She has a massive overbite now. Her teeth don’t touch in front. When she smiles, you almost can’t see her front teeth. It’s changing the shape of her jaw and the appearance of her face. In fact, I think it’s making her look more like her father. And who wants that??

Which brings me to issue #2. At the dentist on Saturday, the Dr said that her overbite was very advanced and he guessed that she has a genetic predisposition to an overbite. I thought about my family and I said no, I didn’t think so. He asked about her father’s side of the family. Not wanting to go into the whole story, I simply said “Not that I know of.” I hate that such a simple question is so loaded. I hate that I don’t know half of her genetic history. Before she was born, I had to go for some sort of genetic counseling, I think they call it. I asked her "Donor" at that point if he’d provide me with a simple family tree of health issues. Of course he said yes. Of course he never did it.

I dread the day those kind of questions are directed at DD instead of at me and she’s the one who has to stumble for the answer. I hate feeling like I want to pick up the phone and call him to ask him but knowing I can’t. I hate being forced to think about him at all, really. DD is in a stage of looking like her Donor. In the car, I generally flip the vanity mirror down and angle it so I can look at her while we drive. This morning, I couldn’t even look at her. I could only see HIM staring back at me. I detest being forced to think about him especially when I'm looking at my baby....the person I love more than anything else in this world.

Ever since the therapy session I had where T set me straight to quit thinking of him as her “father” and consider him as a Donor only, I’ve done really well with the whole thing. But then there are days when it all smacks me in the face. Later that day, after we left the dentist, we went to the mall for something and the ladies in the store were admiring DD, guessing her at about 6 years old. If I haven’t mentioned before, DD is very tall for her age. So I said that she would be 4 the end of the month and one of them said “Wow, Daddy must be tall!!” Such an innocuous statement for anyone to make and yet causes so much turmoil for me. I was glad that DD was so tired at that point it really didn’t register with her. I get so on edge waiting for comments like those to start her on another “daddy” kick. She’s not mentioned him in a short while and I’d just assume keep it that way! I digress.

Issue #3, which is really the most difficult for me. And it’s MY issue. My perception, my insecurity. Thumb sucking is a soother. Children need it; I get that. I sucked my thumb until I was 7 and only stopped when they gave me a retainer with spokes in it. I had good reason to suck my thumb and to need soothing with all that was going on in my world. I’m paralleling my beliefs about my own thumb sucking to why DD does it. I feel like I’m doing something wrong and somehow failing to make DD feel safe and that is why she needs to suck. I want her to feel safe on my terms and on my timeline, apparently. I really want her to stop for the dental issues more than anything. I don't want her to need a rake, braces or surgery. I’d be more than happy to give her back her paci in place of her thumbs. But I definitely feel like I’m failing to provide her with some sort of security that she needs and I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling like my choices or actions are leaving a void in her life.

Greener Grass

I'm sitting at work this AM and a co-worker stops in to see me. He's an older gentleman, probably around 70. When he first started here, I could not stand him! I thought he was ornery, demanding, difficult and a real pain in the ass. As time went on, I realized that I was right, LOL. He IS all those things. But he's also a softie with a great sense of humor. Once I hit on that and started to figure out how to goof around with him, we've become friends.

Past few days he's been asking me about my car. I downsized last year from a Ford Expedition to a Toyota Rav4. Smart move! He has 7 children and a slew of grandchildren. One of his daughters has a Honda Pilot that gets 15 MPG. She was going to lease another one and he was trying hard to talk her out of it. He came in to tell me that he made her go look at a Rav4 last night and she ended up buying one.

I thought to myself how fantastic that still at this age, her Dad is looking out for her and trying to help her make smart decisions. And then I thought....she probably thinks he's a demanding, difficult pain in the ass! And she probably gets irritated at his persistence in giving his unsolicited opinion. Well, maybe it's a "grass is greener" situation....but I sure wish I had the opportunity to be annoyed by my father's over-involvement, opinions and protection in my life.

Beyond Poop: Just Plain SHIT.

I'll spare you an image for this post. *smile*
I'm just in a really crappy (no pun intended) mood. It's been a trying time, for sure. Work has been so hectic and crazy. It seems like my In Box doubles on a daily basis and I simply can't do that much work. The 2 co-workers I depend on the most to help me just end up making more work for me. One because she is a self-centered, careless, unpleasant troll. The other because he is just an ass, really. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels here every day and for every step forward, I'm being pushed 2 steps back.

Leaving here yesterday, after a normally stressful day, I picked up DD at daycare. I go to sign her out and see she's not taken a nap. DD always naps at school so this is highly abnormal. Of course it happens on a Tuesday, which is my longest day because of choir rehearsal. Under any other circumstances, I may have skipped choir or just cut it short but we're preparing for our biggest performance of the year this coming Sunday. And I still have a sinus infection. The anti-biotics are not working as quickly as everyone assured me they would. So my voice is questionable for this performance. Stresses me out. I'm the "lead lead", the "top Diva" as I jokingly call it. Meaning there are 3 other women who sing the same part that I do but I'm the strongest voice and they count on me to lead my section. No pressure, though. :o)

So after I pick DD up, she is already whining at me in the car. We have to kill some time before choir and I don't have any errands to do this particular day. I tell DD I'd like to stop at the library. Noooooooooo, she whines; she doesn't want the library. I go anyway to discover they are closing in 5 minutes. Summer hours, I guess. So I say we can't go. Wwwaaaaaahhhhhhh, she cries; she wanted to go to the library. Tune her out...tune her out. I'm already feeling frazzled and numb. "ICE CREAM" the brilliant Mommy bursts out.....we'll go get a scoop of ice cream. Crying stops. We go get ice cream which DD plays with more than eats, drips it all over her dress, says she's done with it. She puts it in the garbage and then comes back & starts crying "I wasn't done!!!" Tune out, Tune out.

We get to choir (which is at my friends house, BTW) DD poops in her undies. She's wearing a dress and I've now learned not to let her wear nothing underneath after the office fiasco last week. Taking T's advice, I just say "okay, let's get you cleaned up." I clean her up and realize I've packed PJ's but no more undies and no diaper (which I still have her sleep in b/c of night accidents). So I tell her "Listen, we have no more clothes with us so if you need to go potty again, tell Mommy. Otherwise you're going to have to stay in poop clothes til we get home." She says okay.

Next I knock over my very substantial pendaflex file of music, which is all alphabetized. It shoots out across the room and I have to bend down (recall I've got the sinus infection so bending down is excruciating) and pick it all up then shuffle through it all and re-file it. Few minutes later, DD informs me she has now pooped in her PJ's. I say "Well, I'm sorry you chose to do that instead of using the potty. We have no other clothes, so you're going to have to live with it til we leave." I would have let her run around naked but I was worried she'd poop on their floor. She's crying. All my choir-mates are doing their best to tolerate her stink. I was horrified. Still trying to go on singing but having breakdowns instead. I had to stand away from everyone else b/c I was getting so stressed that being in a tight group of people was bringing on a panic attack. I had a hard time controlling my crying and I kept thinking this is when I miss having a boyfriend....when I just want someone who loves me to listen to me and give a hug. Then DD starts crying. She says she needs to poop on the potty now. I suspect it's a lie/ploy but I take her upstairs to the bathroom anyway. Lucky for me, there are some spare kids clothes hanging around at my friends house and I'm able to grab a pair of sweats that (sort-of) fit DD. The poop has worked it's way down both legs to her knees and as I take the PJ pants off, it smears all the way down & over her feet as well as getting all over me, under my fingernails. I throw her in their tub and wipe her down with TP the best I can then wash her off in the tub. Not realizing this tub has drainage problems until there is a pool of poopy water in the tub. I'm sitting on the floor and I go to get up, leaning on the edge of the tub, slip on the wet edge & smash my ribs into the side of the tub. Cry. Get the plunger & slowly help the tub drain out. Then clean the tub so I don't leave poop in my friends bath. We don't leave choir til almost 10. DD is awake until 10:30 and frankly I just couldn't wait for her to fall asleep. I needed the reprieve.

I was just so exhausted but still had dishes to put away, lunches to make. I slept restlessly, a battle of weary body, busy brain. This morning was a battle with DD, being that she was so over-tired. I love her more than anything but just was thrilled to leave her at daycare today. Of course, I get to work 20 minutes late, thanks to morning battles, and immediately there are emergencies, urgents and a tiff with the co-worker who is an ass. I broke down & had to shut my door. I feel very disconnected, physically, right now. Oh. lightbulb....time for grounded breathing. I did do my breathing and I came up with 2 prevailing thoughts: #1 - No Control. That's what is making me nuts. I feel entirely out of control. #2: HOLY potatoes my sinuses HURT!! :o{