Kinda......Lost.

I think I might be depressed.  I feel like I'm in a hole every day at one point or another.  I have regular thoughts of hating my life and wondering what the hell the purpose of it all is.  I'm not suicidal or anything.  I just feel kinda.....lost.  Or maybe just alone. I think it's more than I can ponder at this moment without completely falling apart.  As much as I really probably need that emotional release, there is never a convenient time to lose it.  KWIM?  Life must go on.

B's school struggles and focus issues have been heavy on my mind.  A recent conversation challenged my course of action and it was exceedingly uncomfortable for me.  I mean, I know that I don't take (perceived) criticism or even advice well at all.  But I had to consider why I felt so overwhelmingly threatened when I know the statements were well intended.

Here is the thing......I don't even really believe in ADD.  I'm not looking to open a debate about it.  I understand many people deal with it and everyone chooses their own course with the intent to do right by their child.  That is wonderful.  My own personal feeling is that it is very real symptoms caused by a variety of sources but it is not inherent to the sufferer.  I've read enough information and case studies that I feel comfortable in my belief. That's just me and that is all I need to worry about right now.

Despite that, I am *considering* having B evaluated for "ADD" and going another route to help her.  Here is the problem in that...... while medication may help alleviate her symptoms, I feel it is the worst, most horrible, harmful cop out I could ever consider.  I am vehemently opposed to drugs and to big pharmaceuticals in general.  I KNOW that I could improve her symptoms with a combination of diet, naturopathic therapies &/or herbal supplements and behavioral therapy.  Unfortunately, unless I win the lottery and can quit my job, I do not have the time and the resources to do so.  And that makes me feel like a total failure.  I absolutely feel like I have given up on her, am throwing up my hands and just caving to the easy instead of doing what I believe is right.  And I hate myself every second for it.  Yes, even if it works.  

B's father reached out to me this morning.  God, what bad timing.  I want to spill my guts to him and ask for his input.  I want to ask him to step up.  I want to tell him that she needs him, *I* need him.  Blah.  I want to tell him that she was upset yesterday.  Her karate instructor asked for help after classes on Saturday with taping the floor mats.  He said the moms cut the tape, the kids run it to the dads and the dads do the taping.  B thought we would not be allowed to help because she doesn't have a dad.  It's the little stuff like that that comes out of nowhere and reminds you all the small ways she feels that absence.  I wish I had someone in this with me who could be a sounding board, another set of eyes, another valued opinion of where we should go next in this journey. 

Negative

I feel like one big giant ball of negative right now.  I am so unhappy and it feels too overwhelming to find the bright side.  So I'm going to wallow in my sea of negative for a few minutes. 

1. I cannot seem to stay on track with my diet.  I am up, I am down.  I am disgusted with myself.  It should motivate me to stay focused but instead it just makes me want to eat more.

2. My hair is falling out.  Like in giant clumps & handfuls.  Every day.  My hair has always been a bit of a trademark for me and it makes me sick to my stomach to see what it is becoming.  I can see patches of scalp through it and it's a strugle to make it look good.  This is somehow tied into my diet.  When I started dieting a few years ago, my hair loss increased.  Then I went off my diet for about a year and managed to gain 30lbs back but also my hair grew back in.  Then I went back on my diet in May and within 2 weeks, my hair started falling out in droves.  My Dr has theorized all kinds of things.  But there is no test that supports his thoughts.  My thyroid is normal, my blood sugar is stable.  I know that it is stress & hormone related.  My theory is that, when I diet, I am under higher stress.  My cortisol levels go up.  I obsess about every calorie, every daily success or failure.  I obsess about my lack of progress toward my goal.  And at the same time, in the process of dieting, I lose my comfort which is eating.

3. The situation with Bianca's father and my utter lack of control over any aspect of it.  My worry and panic that I'm screwing it all up.  Feeling like no one else really gets where I am with this.  I feel alone.

4. Speaking of alone.....I've not been in a relationship in forever.  I want it but the thought of the work involved in getting into one is too much to handle right now.  Plus being that I am right now fat and balding, I'm not really feeling all that attractive.  Yet still, the other day, I decided maybe I would reactivate my profile on a dating website and just see what happens.  Back in August, I had fraudulent charges on my credit card and had to fight the charges, cancel the card and go through the process of re-establishing everything that I had attached to that card for auto-payment purposes.  That was the day before I went on vacation, it was a total PITA.  One of the fraudulent charges was to this dating website.  I learned yesterday, because of that, I have been banned from their site.

5. One of the things that led me back to that dating site is that my BFF recently met a great guy and, by all accounts, they are developing a relationship.  I feel like she has been really "not there" for me since this started.  I texted her the revelation I came to in my last post about why I freaked out when I called my therapist for an appointment.  She didn't reply and I finally texted her again the next day to ask her if she got my text at all.  She said she did and then she asked me if I'd had any thoughts about why I reacted the way I did when I first called her.  Hello??  That is everything that my text was just about!!!

6. My other BFF has also been a little self absorbed lately and that's fine....he's in the midst of a job change but I feel like he leaves me hanging so often.  There is also this small issue of the fact that he has owed me a large sum of money for many years now.  We discussed it once about 3 years ago and he said he would start paying me back but he never did.  It pisses me off that he has not acknowledged it again and I have no idea what his intention is.  I don't want to bring it up, there never seems to be a "good" time to broach the subject.  As I said, he is in between jobs now so not the right time to bring it up.  When IS a good time??  I confess, this is a very different "BFF" relationship.  You may have picked up on the "he" part of this paragraph.  I relate SO differently to men and women.  I admit, I don't want to "rock the boat" with him.  I am afraid I will upset him by asking for repayment.  I love him as my friend but there is always an underlying feeling tucked away that I could love him in a more romantic capacity.  I always think there is a potential "someday" for us.  If not, I am okay with that.....he is extremely important as my friend and that can be enough.  But I find I just approach him differently in so many ways because he is a HE.

7. Expanding on that thought.....when I need an ear I go to either one of my BFF's but I definitely find I am WAY more apt to open up to HE than to SHE.  I embrace advice from him but I get defensive about advice from her.  I think that has zero to do with them personally.  I think this speaks to my issues with my mother.  I feel like anger has bubbled back up in me lately toward her.  I find she cannot do right by me in my own head.  Everything she says annoys me.  When we talk, I put a huge distance between us and cross my arms.....protective.  I think I feel a sense of defiance when it comes to taking advice from another woman because my mother never had a shred of advice or instruction for me.  I had to figure it out on my own.  I don't know.....I'm not hitting the core of this one.  Something to ponder another day.

8. There is just this general lack of purpose, lack of satisfaction.  I feel rushed all the time.  I feel like I have failed my daughter in big ways that I see concrete evidence of.  I feel like I am not accomplishing anything at home or at work.  And I feel like all I do does not matter.  Who am I really helping?  What am I contributing to this world?  I feel so utterly insignificant.

Do you ever just have one of these days where you simply cannot stand one thing about yourself and you really wish you could just get away from you?? I'm so there right now.

Tapping into Grief

Just when you least expect it....there is a breakthrough moment.

~

I had T this morning. Went with only a minor agenda of talking about the card from my brother and discussing father's day. Let me start with the card from my brother part (story in my prior post). I told Susan that I evaluated the card, thought there was an ulterior motive behind it and then just kind of put the whole thing aside. I felt like there should have been a more emotional reaction to it and I stayed open to that but it never really happened. Often, when I've not connected emotionally to something, when I talk about it in therapy I will make the connection there. When I discussed it with Susan, I felt the same way as I did when I got the card. She actually told me that she felt this was very positive. I'm reacting from a here and now, adult perspective and it doesn't appear I'm repressing anything about it. Excellent!

~
We discussed Father's Day and that Bianca had done pretty well with it. I talked about the feelings I have toward Bianca's bio-father and how I have trouble wrapping my brain around the fact that he has nothing to do with her. I wonder sometimes if he ever thinks about her, wonders about her. It's difficult for me to accept that I will never know the truth and hard for me to let that go. Not in my control-craving nature. Susan asked me what if Bianca had a father who had died when she was a baby? How would I deal with that? I said that would be a million times easier to explain. It's easier to tell her that she had a dad who loved her but now he's in heaven. It's easy to find a million books for kids on how to deal with the grief of a deceased parent. But how do you explain that there is a living, breathing parent who has just chosen to reject her? Susan said that I would have empathy for her if the situation were a dead father but that I'm fully triggered by the idea of rejection and the way I feel and act are because of my own unresolved issues. Dammit! We're almost in a cycle where Bianca has legitimate thoughts about fathers but then it sets me off and she feeds off that so we keep going round and round. I said I just don't want her to end up like me. Everytime I think I'm working past my father issues, I'm reminded that I still have more work to do. In my heart, I still feel responsible for my father's abuse and rejection of me.

~
Susan reminded me that my own father experience had nothing to do with ME. It's all about my father and HIS issues. Yes, I know this......in my head. It's intellectual. Clearly I don't accept it in my heart. Still. I thought I was past this. Susan asked me what I meant when I said I don't want Bianca to end up like me. What kinds of things am I thinking, feeling and picturing in my head? I said I was feeling fear, afraid that she would become promiscuous and foolish the way that I had been, doing anything for male attention to fill that void, to feel loved or lovable. She asked what feelings came up in me for my situation with my own father? Trying to access my feelings kept resulting in going back to my head, to intellectualizing. When I was able to let it down, I said "Grief. I feel grief." And I said "I know why he did what he did.....but I just wanted a Dad." *Sob*Sob*Sob*

~

Susan suggested I do energy tapping around the statement I made to try to help release some of those emotions. I did and absolutely gushed tears the entire process. In fact, 3 hours later, I'm still crying. After the tapping work with her, I felt exhausted and just sad. I know I did some serious emotional grieving work. After writing this, but before publishing it, I ended up taking a nearly 3 hour nap. Unheard of for me.....I really drained myself.

~
I have to put in a quick funny....I unconsciously hold my breath alot in T when I'm holding my emotions in. When Susan asked me to get in touch with my feelings about my father, I guess I was doing it again. Susan said "Breathe, for heavens sake!! Sometimes I think you could scuba dive without an oxygen tank when I see how long you sit here without taking a breath!!"

~

As I was driving home, I was mulling things over. I often say that I feel guilty or responsible for Bianca not having a father. I just realized that my guilt stems from my feeling unlovable.....feeling that I wasn't good enough for her bio-father, for her "Dad" or even for my own Dad to love me, to choose me. And now she has to pay the price for my inferiority. Emotional work sucks. No wonder I avoid it.

no words

I fear if I say a word right now, the tears will begin and they will not stop until I fall apart completely. So I hold them inside, as tightly as I can until........??

Sorry, but......

Why does it happen this way?? I suppose it's some "divine" way of telling me I need to work on something by smacking me over the head with it again and again. Last night, as I mentioned in my prior post, I had an image of XBF and I together and I felt so sad; a longing for the times we were together and happy.

This morning I was driving DD to school and she said something about her favorite Angelina Ballerina movie. Said something about Angelina's daddy. *Pregnant Pause* I knew it was coming. She made a comment about her own Daddy. It's been a while since she's mentioned him. It was a passing comment that didn't require more than just my quick acknowledgement.

I pick her up from school today and what's in her art folder? My least favorite project (other than Father's Day). The Family Tree. Mommy. DD's name. Blank leaf. Blank leaf. Blank leaf. Blank leaf. God it fucking breaks my heart.

And then tonight, after dinner, we're watching Dora together and there's this part at the end when Dora always says "What was your favorite part?" and waits for your response. DD said "My favorite part was when Boots got to hug his Daddy. Mama, next time can I hug my Daddy again?"

I know, I know.....I know I'm a good Mom. I know she's better off with no father than a crappy one. I know it all. But it doesn't stop me from feeling like garbage that she doesn't have a father. I wanted so much more for her.

I reached out to my BFF tonight and I'm sitting here avoiding calling her back. Isn't it crazy? I know I need to talk. I make the first move by sending her a text message and then I immediately start trying to talk myself out of it. You don't need anyone. Who wants to hear your problems? Do you really want to admit your weaknesses? What good will it do? Just deal with it on your own. Blah blah blah blah blah. Broken record.

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.

Men

DOES THAT PRETTY MUCH SAY IT ALL?? *Sigh* It's 1:30am and I'm probably not thinking coherently enough to write something profound. All I know is that I have alot swirling in my head with Father's Day impending. I've been trying to figure out just how to deal with it with my DD. Particularly in regard to daycare and whatever project they are planning to do with the kids. DD is the only child in the daycare from a single parent home. This is such a tenuous time for her with father issues. We're just making some small strides in moving away from calling my XBF "Daddy". I don't want it to all be dredged up through a school project. I notice how she is often triggered in talking about "Daddy" by other kids or being in the presence of another child's father.

~
I had T yesterday morning and it was one of the things we discussed. T did say she was going to call a friend of hers who is an elementary school psychologist and try to get some feedback. I'm even thinking of asking DD's daycare teachers if I can come in and do a presentation/project with the kids about different kinds of families. I have been perusing the web for good, age appropriate books on the subject. I want to encompass it all....not just single parent homes but also divorced, foster, adoptive, multi-cultural and even same sex parents. All in a very general way, of course. I think it's something beneficial that all the kids should learn about. Once they head off to public school, I think their little bubble of the traditional family will be challenged.
~
The "boys" of my life have, by and large, been "icky" indeed. When I think about what DD and I both do not have.....well, it makes me sad and angry also. I should have my father, my brother, my grandfather, a husband or at least a co-parent for her. She should have her father (or her daddy), her grandfather, her uncle, her half brother and sister.
~
My father/Her grandfather: Closed off, verbally, mentally and physically abusive
My brother/Her uncle: nearly a carbon copy of my father, snide, sarcastic, sexual abuser
My bio-grandfather (fathers side): an alcoholic who walked out on his family when my father was 1
My step-grandfather (fathers side): Odd, nervous and secretive man. Nothing happened to me but there were allegations of his inappropriate advances toward young girls.
My grandfather (mothers side): Alcoholic manic depressive who committed suicide when my mother was young.
My ex-husband: I married what I knew....a verbally and physically abusive man, controlling, angry, completely closed off.
Her bio-father: A lying sack of shit who continues to play the victim in this situation, never taking responsibility for the fact that he got himself right where he is. He has other children who would have been her half siblings if he wasn't such a scumbag.
Her Daddy (my XBF): who promised to fill this role for her for a lifetime and then, after 2 1/2 years, realized he didn't want to. He's the only Dad she's ever known and now, 16 months since she's seen him, she still asks about him nearly daily.
~
Part of this is circumstantial.....I had no control over who my biological relatives were. But all I see in here is one big cycle. One bad choice after another made by people who were blind; who never questioned if there was something better in life. People who never believed they deserved better. I was one of those people for a long time. I don't even know where I'm going with this anymore.......
~
I put this aside for a night....it still doesn't make alot of sense but it's what's on my heart tonight. When I put DD to bed tonight, she made a comment about how it's just me and her who live in our house. I told her that we are a family and I reminded her about different kinds of families. We'd had a playdate with her friend C today so I said C's family is her Mommy, Daddy, C & her sister. DD said "I wish I had a Daddy." All the logic in the world doesn't take away the stab of agony to my heart knowing she longs for something she does not have and it's something I contributed to by my choices and something I can't give to her.

Stuff.....

I've not been writing for a while. I guess I was in break mode? Nothing too big to write about. It was a largely uneventful week in my personal life. Work was crazy as two co-workers were both on vacation.

I did hit 60 days binge free last week. That was good news.

Mother's Day was alright. DD and I went to my mother's house for breakfast. Unfortunately DD was sick. She has asthma which was triggered by allergies. She was coughing so hard, even after 3 breathing treatments, that I had to take her to the ER later in the day. All is well and she's on steroids again. While at my mothers, DD is the distraction so that I don't have to interact with my mother all that much. I'm a little on "auto-pilot"" mode with her right now. I guess I'm more wrapped up in father issues at the moment. I was in another room yesterday when DD tripped and fell. My mother makes such a big deal out of it and it really annoys DD. I don't know why my mother can't understand this. I mean, I do....but still. I've told her this so many times. DD gets irate when my mother acknowledges an injury in her fawning, over-sympathetic way. The more DD gets angry, the more my mother tries to pacify her which only exacerbates the situation. I know this is about my mother being in a trance where she can't see what's right in front of her. My DD ended up shutting herself in the guest room at my mother's house til I got involved. I reminded my mother again that this is not the way to handle DD when she gets hurt. My mother quickly scurried into the kitchen. Blech.

I got her a pretty "vanilla" Mother's Day card. Pleasant, not mushy. Not sentimental. Just nice. Still it makes her cry. Double blech. Next year, remind me to stick to humorous cards only. I can't deal.

Okay....here is my issue dujour. Be forewarned that it's possibly a little TMI and part of the story is sex related:
I had a date on Friday. I met someone, "K", for lunch. He drove down here, about an hour drive, to take me out. I haven't seen him since October. And I've done that basically on purpose. Read beginning of the story here. After I made that post back in October, I did see him and I did sleep with him. I was going through this sortof....hmm, phase? It's so funny as I look back on that old post now. It's screaming at me of the vulnerability issues I've connected to and blogged about of late. I was all but saying it in that post but seemed lacking the final piece to make the connection. My fear of vulnerability was so paralyzing that I think I'd convinced myself that I was alright with casual dating, casual sex, just having a good time, no expectations, no strings. In fact, I'm not "alright" with that. Yet I am still frighteningly comfortable with it in an old, familiar, dissociative, masked kind of way. I didn't regret the night we spent together but it did bring to light the realization that these actions no longer fit me. But the new, healthy behaviors don't really fit me yet either. I feel like I've outgrown one "outfit" while I'm waiting for the tailor to make me a new one and I'm standing here naked in the meantime!!

Sadly, I don't think I've made much progress at all which is so entirely disheartening. I figured lunch was safe. No pressure, right? Just a one hour lunch in the middle of a workday. *sigh* He's so darn cute. And has this whole southern gentleman thing going. He was very focused on me, full of compliments. Not over the top, though. It's been so long since I've been on a date. I forget how nice it feels to have all that admiration from someone. Well, things started out lovely and then the flirtation crept in and then the innuendo followed which led to some reminiscing about the night we spent together. When we got back in his car, well......we nearly pounced on each other and started kissing. That was all I wanted. It was not all he wanted. He would have never known it was not all I wanted. Because I didn't say so. Well, that's not entirely true. He asked me to do something and I said I didn't want to. He asked me again and I did it even though I knew I really didn't want to. That was a turning point where I tuned out "the tailor" and decided to throw my old duds back on because it was just easier, more comfortable. I'll spare the details. But I returned to work in "old me" mode. Thinking that was "fun", it was silly, it was all fine and dandy. Because it's easier for me to think that than to admit that I just said "NO" to this guy twice and still allowed him to coerce me into going along with what he wanted.

Well, it's not fine and dandy. I gave in out of obligation. Out of the feeling that I had no right to stand my ground. Because...why? Because I've slept with him before? Because I give him mixed signals? Because he came all the way down here and bought me lunch? Because I'd rather be seen as the "good time girl" than some prudish, serious stick-in-the-mud? Nevermind what it does to my head & heart? Because it's really STILL, after all this damn time and counseling, STILL stuck in my head that I don't have the right to say no and to claim my body as my own? That I'm not allowed to protect myself when I feel uncomfortable? That my desires are not as important as someone else's? And do you see how I take the responsibility for this back onto myself? I can't bring myself to blame him for his actions or for not listening to me because I didn't act according to how I felt. It's my own fault.

After I let some of that sink in and admit that I'd done something foolish, I started to ponder the situation. What should I do? How do I feel about him? Do I owe him any sort of explanation? I know I don't want to go the casual sex route again. So I start thinking...do I find out if he's interested in more from me and go from there? Again....not thinking of my own feeling on the subject before I'm trying to figure out his. How about....DO *I* want more from him? Well, on the one hand, this....on the other hand, that.....but then there's this....and don't forget that. Etc, etc, etc. You know the bottom line is that he is not the kind of guy I should be with. If after knowing him for almost 3 years, having been on several dates, having slept with him.....if after all that, I'm still not sure about him? I want to type in here something about his coercing me, not listening to me say no, etc.....but I just can't. I just can't say something that puts the blame of it on him because I feel wholly responsible. Dear God, I'm a rapist's dream-come-true.

All I can think about right now is the movie Chicken Little and the character Runt of the Litter (above). There is this scene where he's listening to 2 other characters debating and each time one of them says something, he agrees with their point and then he says "I'm a gutless flip-flopper!!" That's what my brain feels like on this subject. Why does something so perfectly obvious have to become so flipping complicated once it's sent to the circus I call my brain??

Would it be wrong to create a post label called "I'm an Idiot"? Because that is surely where this belongs.

It's 9:30am....is the day over yet?

I feel like I've been beaten down already this morning. Really it started yesterday. I had/have so much to get done at home and I didn't get even a fraction of it done yesterday. That frustrates me to start off with. But DD was really clingy. Potty training has gone really well and she hasn't had any accidents in over 2 weeks but she's still holding "#2" for days at a time. She was really whiney yesterday. I know she had to go badly but every time she got on the potty, she would cry that she didn't want to go. I gave her prunes, I pumped her up with water, I started her back on the laxative the Pedi RXed for her, I let her soak in the bath for well over an hour. No avail. She was crying and just generally miserable. She didn't nap and I tried to put her to bed early but she kept wanting to try the potty. I know it was a ploy but I knew she also had to go.

I'm really not a patient person, by nature, so it's really tough for me to wait this all out and continue to be pleasant and supportive. I just SO want to believe that logic can work on this 3 year old!! Anyway, I finally put her to bed and she was whining in her sleep. She woke up several times in the night crying. Wanted me to carry her to the potty. She kept saying she only had to pee. I was starting to worry that her time in the bath gave her a UTI. She wanted me to hold her in bed (oh yeah, she came to my bed around 11:30pm) which I did even though I was running later for work by the second. Finally I got in the shower and then I could hear her sobbing from my bed. I called her into the bathroom and she said she wanted to try potty again. There I am naked & soapy trying to help her. She says she wants to go, gets on the potty and then cries that she doesn't want to go. I had to rinse off & finish my shower with her crying hysterically. Relaxing! (I should mention that my morning showers, while she sleeps, are one of my "essentials"...it's where I breathe, meditate, mentally prepare for my day, etc.) And so it continued.....she crying, me trying to get us ready, she saying she doesn't want to go to school, on & on & on. She kept hiding under her bed with her binky. When we went downstairs to get our stuff together & go, she turned into Question Girl. Under my feet & touching everything. "What's this? Why is it that? What does it do? How does it work? Can you show me? But why is it called this? Why is it this color? Can I play with it? Why not? Can I bring it in the car? Is that coffee? Do you like coffee? But I don't like coffee. Why do you like coffee? Is that enough? Why not? Do you want to make more? Why are you putting ice in it? Can I see? Can I put ice in it? Can you put ice in my cup? Why are you opening the freezer? I want to open the freezer. What is that? Can I play with that?....." With eyes glazed over and blood pressure somewhere in the stroke-level stratosphere, I'm sure, we're finally ready to go. So I set the alarm, at which point we have 60 seconds to get out the door. And naturally as soon as I open the door to run out, she sees something inside that she wants, runs to get it then stands at the door not wanting to go outside and starts to cry. So I open the door and then she starts screaming that she wanted to open the door and tries to pull it shut so that she can open it and I have to grab her arm and basically shove her out the door as she's screaming so that the alarm doesn't go off. And then she's outside in the rain screaching at me and refusing to get in the car or in her seat as I get drenched trying to keep my cool with her, reminding myself she doesn't feel good.

She fell asleep in the car 3/4 of the way to school and so I had to wake her up, juggle carrying her with all her stuff and trying to keep an umbrella over us to get inside where she is uber clingy and doesn't want me to go. Finally I manage to talk her into sitting with one of her teachers for a story and as I'm leaving, I see her sad little face crying and saying "Don't go!" And so naturally, I cried all the way to work. Once I got here, I called daycare to make sure she was alright. Well, that was a mistake. They tell me she is in the corner crying for me and won't let anyone near her. It is the worst feeling in the world knowing my baby doesn't feel well and wants nothing more than to be at home with me and I'm not there for her.

Rainbows and Butterflies

Isn't it funny how you never really put something together in your head and then, when you finally do, you're amazed that such a simple and evident concept escaped you for so long??

I've had a rough and emotional week as I've posted about previously. After my DD said what she did about wanting someone to be her Daddy, I wanted an ear. I wanted to talk to someone about it. I looked at my phone, scrolling through the Contact List....

Don't want to bother her

Not someone I'd share this with

Too personal to discuss with him

Not close enough to her to call up crying

Haven't talked to him in too long to call in crisis

Yeah....I could call her but.....I don't want to

Nah....not in the right frame of mind for his practical advice

Don't feel like warding off his flirtations

Yeah....I could call him but he's got his own problems

She's probably busy with her own child right now, don't want to interfere

I have an appalling lack of people who I will confide in. Yet, I look at the list and, when I step back from the situation, I know that the vast majority of these people would be happy to listen to me and/or offer advice. But I manage to come up with an excuse not to call any of them. And I fester, feeling isolated. Feeling unloved and lonely.

I think about my LONGtime friend, J. She is the "Yeah, I could call her but I don't want to" on the list. J is very open with her problems. She reaches out for support openly and undaunted. She cries in front of anyone when she's upset. She and I have talked often about this "imbalance" in our friendship where she so often comes running to me with her problems and I never seem to confide in her with mine. So I was considering calling her and thinking it would be good if I could display some of the same trust in her that she puts in me. And immediately, I began to discount the seriousness of my issue. And question what someone else could really tell me that I didn't already know. I told myself "You can solve this yourself, you don't need anyone else." I wondered why J is so open and I find it so difficult to be.

And then it struck me.

J grew up in the most functional family I know. Granted, they have some issues. But there is soooo much love and respect. Family is a true priority in word as well as in action. She was always able to go to her parents and, at 37 years old, still does. She lived a safe childhood and she knew her fears would always be taken seriously.

Where I grew up, two-thirds of my family would hit, slap, abuse, degrade or beat me for daring to have a problem. And the other one-third would simply ignore the fact that it existed or try to smooth it over with rainbows and butterflies or whatever other innocuous fairy tales came to her little cotton-candy brain. This was my "duh" moment. Like how could it not have hit me before why I hesitate to share my problems with anyone? Why I hold them so tightly and figure I can just solve them myself? OLD messages. OLD fears.

Going a step deeper.....J and I were supposed to see each other this weekend. While part of me wanted some alone time, part of me was also really looking forward to seeing her and catching her up on some things, problems of the week included. When she cancelled, I was kindof disappointed and I thought "maybe I should tell her that I really needed the ear of a friend this weekend" After all, she's the one who says she wishes I would reach out to her more. But then my brain starts in.....

What good will it do to tell her that? You already know she has obligations. It's not like she can or will change her plans because you can't handle the week you've had. And then what? She feels guilty for not being available to you. You've made yourself vulnerable by suggesting that you need another person. You've been disappointed, again, and now look like a weak, pathetic fool. Where is the good in any of that???

There is NO good in that because I am judging the crap out of myself and my needs. I said before I feel unlovable and lonely. Well....I must still believe I'm unlovable. And I think I keep myself lonely on purpose. Because being consistently lonely is alot better than being vulnerable to yet another person who ends up hurting me. At least I know what to expect. I guess I'm in this uncomfortable conundrum right now because I've been alone for so long and there is a certain comfort to the predictability of it. But I deeply miss having a significant other and I long for it. But I'm not willing to let down my guard for anyone right now. Hence the reason why I find fault immediately with any potential dates. And when I don't find fault with them, I just ignore their calls. Yeah, good plan.

I don't even know how to go about fixing this. I don't know what work there is to do here other than to take the leap and make a conscious choice to be vulnerable. God that terrifies me. My last relationship really scarred me, I think, more than I have admitted or even realized. I found out some more unpleasantries about my XBF today that just make me realize that so many people are not who they portray themselves to be. Sometimes they are purposely deceptive (as in DD's bio-father) and sometimes they are just SO completely out of touch with themselves that they believe their own lies. And so do I.

I loved XBF. I truly did love him and trust him. I built the idea of my future around him. Twice. He broke my heart. Twice. And his disappearance leaves my DD saying things like she did the other day "I want someone to be my Daddy because my Daddy left." I've never told her that he left. I would not use those words with her. But, at 3 years old, she figured out that she's been abandoned by someone of importance. She hasn't seen him in well over a year and she still talks about him almost daily. I am so terrified to have to go through all of this again. I'm so scared that I can't recognize a good, honest man. Hell, I'm scared that they don't even exist. And I'm even more scared to bring another man around my DD. Naturally, I will be much more careful in the future with her exposure to anyone I choose to date. And there will no calling anyone Daddy unless I remarry. The thought of going through all of this again just exhausts me. Yet the thought of continuing to live without it breaks my heart. Maybe THIS is why I'm so extra angry at XBF. I feel like he robbed me/us of all the things he promised. I hate that I have to face all of this. And I wonder if I will ever fully recover and so freely give my heart to another human being again.

One of My Worst Memories

***Possible Trigger Warning***
While reading many submissions on the Blog Carnival last night, I was overcome with alot of thoughts, feelings and memories. I was inspired, touched and stirred. For some reason, the following memory was brought to the surface. It's something I've never told the whole story of. I've referenced it flippantly. I am feeling compelled to put it to "paper" (or screen, as the case may be!) and letting it loose.

There is a tremendous amount of shame tied into this whole situation that I allowed. This was around 1988. I was 19 years old. I was lost beyond lost and as numb as if I were drowning in a pool of novocaine. I was devoid of self worth, famished for love although I had no idea what healthy love looked like. I was on an auto-pilot mission of self destruction and didn't even know it.

It all started with a phone call from a stranger. His name was Donny. He called me because, he said, he got my number from the stall of a men's room in a diner. (I am positively cringing as I write this) A "normal" person would have been mortified, hung up the phone immediately in complete indignation. Me? It was like I'd achieved stardom! I was "famous" and being written about in public places for my, errr, "skills." So naturally, after a few hours on the phone, we made plans to meet the next day. Did I mention he was fresh out of drug rehab?? Yeah, well.... So I went to his apartment the next day where I proceeded to sleep with him. We hung out a few more times. In all honesty, he seemed to be a slightly decent guy trying to turn his life around.

I had an office job during the day and worked a second job at the mall at night. I was at that night job when Donny and a group of his friends stopped by. A few days later, one of the friends that was with him stopped by my night job by himself. Mike. You knew just looking at him that he was trouble. Well, at least a person with their eyes open would know it. All I saw were these piercing blue eyes and someone who told me I was special. *Swoon* So Mike and I started hanging out. By hanging out, I mean: getting drunk in his crappy apartment in a seedy, dangerous downtown location. Drunk off stuff we bought from bootleggers who sold curiously bottled concoctions from their house windows in the middle of the night. Or him sending me into abandoned buildings to buy 8-balls of crack for him. With my money, naturally. Driving around to places where people routinely get shot. In my car. With him driving. Drunk or high. There was the time he tried to steal my car. That was fun. And when he did steal my jewelry right off me. Did I stop seeing him? Nope. I thought I could "rescue" him if I just gave him more of me. And there was the time he had all his friends over. I'm sure I don't have to tell you what kind of "friends" drug addicts have.

We were partying, drinking with his group of 4 friends. I hadn't had that much to drink but considering you never really know what you're drinking, I guess it was relative. I was very out of it. Mike tried to get me high. I never did use drugs much to his chagrin. I remember him putting some cocaine in his mouth and then kissing me. I suppose he hoped it would get me high? But all it did was numb my mouth. We headed off to the bedroom while his friends watched TV. He said it would be so hot if he could tie me up. Never one to refuse a request of a man, I said sure. So he did. And we had sex. When he was done, he had a cigarette on the edge of the bed as I remained tied up. I did ask him to untie me and he didn't even acknowledge me. He left the room. (As I'm writing this, I feel on the verge of a panic attack. Or vomiting. I need to break for a minute.)

Okay. Apparently he made a business transaction in the other room and sold me to his friends for drug money. Three of the four came in and had their way with me. I so barely remember any of it. I know I did not protest. I don't believe I made a peep. From how I feel when I think about it and how little I recall (thankfully), I'm certain I was largely dissociated. I numbed for survival. I'm not so numb to it when I think about the facts of it now even though the details are unknown. Let's face it....I don't need to know the details to know what happened. I do remember the last guy, Joe. I'd met him before. He was not a drug user from what I could tell and he'd casually warned me about Mike in the past. He'd also expressed a desire to date me. When he came in, he tried to talk to me and kiss me. He ended up untying me and helping me get dressed and get back to my car.

For whatever reason, a few days later, I decided that I needed to get my jewelry back from Mike. I remember giving my friend "J" Mikes address & phone number with explicit instructions to call the police if I didn't call her in a set time period. Why I felt so driven to recover my jewelry despite an obvious fear for my life is beyond me. Maybe it was some sort of declaration to take something back for myself. I don't know. In any case, I went to his apartment to ask for my jewelry (as if it hadn't been pawned 5 seconds after he ripped it off me...) and he pulled a knife on me. I fled. After that, he continued to call me. I'm sure he was pissed to lose his cash cow and slut. I didn't take his calls. Not long after I stopped answering his calls, he started stalking me. He would show up at the mall and just walk by my store again and again. I had to have security walk me to my car every night. One night I was coming home and he was standing at the top of my street, in a shooter's stance, with his hands held together as if they were a gun and he was pretending to shoot me over and over. Actually that happened twice and the second time happened to be the first day my parents were away on a week long vacation and I was home alone. I called the police and of course they were unable to do anything since he never touched me or made a specific threat. They did say they would patrol the area regularly. I don't know what ever happened but I never saw him again after that.

Years later I ran into Joe and he told me that Mike was killed in a drug deal. Good riddance, frankly. But when I think of the time I spent with him, the atrocities I allowed without second thought....when I think how easily that could have been ME killed in a drug deal. When I think of all the unprotected sex I had with him and other drug addicts...... The fact that I'm not dead from one cause or another is utterly shocking. I didn't learn my lesson after that. I continued to meet strangers, date drug addicts and have unprotected sex. It took several more years before I started to think perhaps I was on the wrong path. Just perhaps.... I have such a difficult time connecting to those memories as being part of ME and MY past. I feel like I'm watching a movie. Telling this story made me feel more connected which I guess is good? I want to grieve for that part of me that was so incredibly broken. I just ache inside that I thought I was no better than that. That I felt lucky to have his attention; proud to call him my boyfriend because it validated me as lovable. My family should be ashamed of themselves for the messages they sent me. I went out into the world believing every negative piece of garbage that was ever said or even insinuated about me and I paid for it over and over. And over. And over. And over. Fucking Bastards.

Sad

I am feeling so sad right now. I dropped DD off this morning at daycare and she pointed out a wall of Valentine hearts that all the kids made. These are some of my favorite projects. The teachers ask the kids a question and then write their answers on the project. So the question was obviously "who do you love?" I found DD's heart and it said "I love my mommy and my daddy" I've been crying since I saw it. She has never met her bio-father by his choice. I dated someone else from the time she was 2 months old and we were together for over 2 year. He became her daddy by choice and then just bailed on us. I can't believe she hasn't seen XBF in a year and she still talks about him and misses him. I feel like I'm depriving her of something so huge by not having a father in her life. I know I'm a good Mom and all.....but I still feel like she's missing something she needs. If it didn't matter to her, she would not still be thinking about him.

Maybe it triggers my father issues also. And I'm probably putting a certain amount of adult logic on this. And maybe she only said it because most of her classmates were saying it too. But still....it punched me in the gut when I saw it and I had to jet out of there before she saw me break down. One of the teachers saw me and she knew what I was upset about and then SHE started crying too!! She's so sweet. This is just such a huge issue for me. Immediately, I thought I need to pull myself together and start dating so I can find her a daddy!! I know that's not the answer. I guess I just want sooooo deeply for DD to have everything that I did not. And that "everything" includes having a loving Dad. She's already got the Mom who is a thousand times more on-the-ball than the one I had/have! And I know that counts for alot; I do. But it's not everything. And I know she may well be just fine being raised by a single Mom. But I know her life would be enriched by a good father or father figure and she just doesn't have one. It breaks my heart.

ps - DD is popular with the boys in class. They all chase her. Of course, she has a crush on the only one who doesn't chase her! I had to laugh (and feel a little bad for the Mom) when I saw what DD's "crush" had written on his heart. It said "I love Daddy and (DD's name)" Too cute!!