Saturday, October 30, 2010

I love my children

From Criminal Minds, Thomas Kemp wrote:
"Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of its trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse for impossibility for it thinks all things are lawful for itself and all things are possible."
 Nietzsche once said, 
"When you look long into an abyss, the abyss looks into you."
How can anyone know me when to look into me is to look into an abyss?

New beginnings or ways to hide

Am I changing the structural foundation of how I am with my voice and it just takes time. It doesn't all happen in one day. Or have I found a new way to avoid, by involvement in interactions on facebook and survivor and cyber survivor etc...


If the latter, would it matter? After all aren't some forms of avoiding better than others?


Criminal Minds quote by French poet, Jacques Rigaut
"Don't forget that I cannot see myself. My role is limited to being the one who looks in the mirror."
Hard to know what is real. Maybe what is real about my newfound voice on the internet and interaction with people I don't know is the start of change. Maybe what it is, is not yet set in concrete. You can start a fractal but you can't predict the outcome.


How will I know what I cannot know now?


Truth is that I haven't been wanting to be dead, but behavior hasn't changed. I still haven't left the house. I posted on a number of blogs. I don't feel inhibited anymore.


Criminal Minds quote by Rose Kennedy:
"Birds sing after a storm. Why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them."
So maybe it is ok that I am enjoying what I am doing, regardless of what I am not doing. Why not enjoy the sunlight when it shines.


Chan Teck Loong is a survivor fan who friended me based on my posts and has contacted me to tell me his appreciation of me as a mother. After someone noted it was SON Week, I posted this:
Kian, It's son's week ... how cool is that cause I am lucky enough to have had you. I love you.
Chan Teck Loong is from Kuching, Malaysia and he has been commenting on my loving posts to my children. He instant messaged me this morning. And just now commented on the post:
He's born to be your son. No matter good times, or bad times be there for him. God bless you all.
He said "welcome" after I answered:
Thank you. You are a gentle and kind soul. I love that I have been able to be a mother.
I looked him up. I remember being afraid for just a moment before accepting his friendship because I didn't know why he friended me. I am now glad I took the chance and said yes. He was born June 29, 1975. I feel that he is an old soul in a young body.

Looking at his wall posts in music, I feel like I see a piece of who he is. I feel connected and distant enough not to be able to screw it up. He's a sweet young man, like a son.

I feel like that when I make the few comments I have with Rory or with Jocelyn.

What is real about it? What does question even mean? And would it matter? I experience it as real and connected.

And I just found out my daughter bought her iphone! Makes me very happy.

Friday, October 29, 2010

Voting

Last election we voted in Obama, our first Black president. I proud to be an American again. Bush made me embarrassed to be an American. He talked stupidly, and his passion was born out of ignorance. He started a war we had no right to be in. He fueled terrorism by his flagrant abuses of human dignity and rights towards suspected terrorists. He backed torture as a reasonable form of interrogation.


I knew when we voted in Obama, that there would be a small but significant group of Americans who would not stand quietly while we celebrated our significant step forward towards eradicating bigotry. But I am still surprised by this election, which has very bigoted candidates vying for positions in our government.


It disturbs me that people's fear of gay people is so huge that they cannot tolerate these people having equal rights in our country. I understand having a morality that disagrees with other people choice of lifestyle. What I don't understand is the drive to prevent people from living a particular lifestyle because you disagree with it.


It's not reasonable to say I am ok with gay people, I just don't want them to be able to get married, have families, teach our children, or be seen as normal. That's like saying I am ok with black people riding the bus, but they just have to sit in the back.


It is not reasonable to say that Muslims may not build a mosque on property that any other religious group could build on because it offends us. To equate all muslims to the small group of extreme terrorists, that happen to be Muslim, is moronic. It's an injustice that is as horrific as when we imprisoned all Japanese-Americans in encampments, just because Japan declared war on us. It was not right then and it is not right now. Diligence taken to protect ourselves is completely different than attacking Muslims or the Muslim faith as a whole. 


I would like to think we can learn from our mistakes and become better, but it doesn't seem so. Or maybe it does but it hard to notice.


I was inspired by Obama on the Daily Show. The man is a visionary. He understands how change happens. When the 14th Amendment was past, we change the course of America irrevocably. It didn't matter that every the next day or even the decade. But within my lifetime, we have a black president. And he is one of our all time great presidents. It is one thing to give a great speech and another thing to take unpopular stances that will cause what you stand for to come into being, not today, not tomorrow, maybe not even in your lifetime, but surely in your children's lifetime.


Obama has a selfless uncompromising dedication to our country's founding ideals that all men are created equal and have the right to liberty and the pursuit of happiness.


I never understood the pursuit of happiness before. I used to think it was sappy and superficial. It's not. It is the reason gay people should have same right to marry as I do and why a mosque should be able to be built anywhere in America that a church can be built. It is why the Amish can create a community and live according to their beliefs. As long as living according to your morality and beliefs do not impinge on the freedom of others to do likewise, then in America you are free to live that way. That is the pursuit of happiness. That is how so many different people from so many different cultures can live side by side in America. 


I was frustrated when I read a comment from a wisconsin resident, claiming both candidates were bad choices. And I responded that there was a difference between shooting yourself in the foot and shooting yourself in the head. 


And when my daughter groaned her protest regarding BBC Earth getting their shark fact wrong in her blog Et Tu BBC? I was moved to action and tweeted them.


Not satisfied yet, on my Facebook page I posted this:
VOTE! There is a difference between shooting yourself in the foot and shooting yourself in the head! So if you think there are no good choices so why vote, think again. Especially if your choices are between bad and horrific!
Still not satisfied, I wrote, and learned something about the pursuit of happiness just by thinking about it. Not satisfied yet. I would be disappointed in me if I was.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Zero Tolerance

I just wrote Tolerance. Kind of rap-ish. But I like it.

I had the intention of writing a new blog about kindness. But I changed my mind. I am going to do it here amidst all the rest. Also I will do it in my posts to blogs, as I have doing, more recently, blatantly.

I sent an email to Ellen. I talked about kindness regarding Cyber Survivor. And Craig Ferguson having no hate or whining comment. I shared this poem and how it was inspired by the comment on IT GETS BETTER face book page. And I shared Doctor Who and Van Gogh. I had to do it in three parts, but I did it anyway. I ended the final email with this:
Be kind... it's not enough. There is kindness all around us. Celebrating our kindness is key. Bullying changes you. It doesn't always get better. I hide in cyberspace. I am Sisyphus.
I wanted to say more but there wasn't room. It isn't likely to matter anyway. I made my point. Maybe she will use it well and I will have made a real difference.

Vincent Van Gogh

I love Doctor Who. What an extraordinary idea of kindness to transport Van Gogh to the present day to see how great painter he really was.

One of the quotes in show that he is privy to overhear is this:
"To me Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular great painter of all time. The most beloved. His command of color the most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and, joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. That strange wild man ... was not only the world's greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived."
And how honest an ending that he die in despair anyway, committing suicide even after knowing his legacy.

Next quote is from Amy after learning he still committed suicide:
"So you were right. No new paintings. We didn't make a difference at all."
And the Doctor answers:
"Don't say that. The way I see it is every life is a pile of good things and bad things. Hey, the good things don't always soften the badness, but vice versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. And we definitely added to his pile of good things."
I sent the above portion to my daughter in an email adding this at the end:
You add to my pile of good things ... being able to give to you adds my good pile ...like the pool time we spent together, like buying the iphone ... like betting on how many votes you get ... so many things add to my good pile
Before this exchange in Doctor Who, Van Gogh said that he didn't things were going to end well for him. I know where I am going. I don't think anyone can do anything about it. But, I am not there today.

The past 24 hours have been extraordinary. Christie was nominated for a $10,000 college scholarship for her blog that is to be awarded based on a internet popularity contest. A make-up blog was winning until the science nerds on the internet intervened and she is now way ahead ... It was thrilling to watch her move from around 250 votes mid afternoon against someone with over 2700 to 6200 by  12:30am, to 8000 by 4 am to over 12,000 by 6pm. Her competition has not yet reached 3800.

She has created connections to very great scientists and bloggers and she matters to them. I am so happy for her. The competition goes until November 5th so I have lots of time to enjoy this.

I found Oliver on the internet.  Haven't really interacted. He is special to me. A truly great friend in my life. One with benefits. He is dear to me. The memories I have of him are good. He added to my good pile big time. I know I will write him. When I do, I will enter it here.

I emailed Paula as well. I think I will tell her more.

Anyway it has been a crazy 24 hours. Survivor was on and I have been enjoying posting about it. More on that later too ... and my cyber tribe is up to 57 ... my new goal is 75 ... 3 x there recommended size. I am pretty sure I have the largest tribe ... and I want to keep it that way. I am promoting kindness and humor in how I interact on the blogs .. taking a stand for it in fact... having fun.

Kinda of amazing to have been listening to a rerun of Doctor Who and stumble upon this exchange between the characters. I told my daughter yesterday that she did not understand depression, but that what I asked for always matters and that she needed to buy the iphone from the money she has of mine ... for me ... like when I told her to buy the wetsuit when she asked if she could the money for it. It never occurred me to say no. She will probably be able to repay me as she did for the wetsuit, but that never really matters. It's nice that she can because it let's me help her again or give her and Kian something they want ...

But in the end I don't think I can win ... I do think it will be tragic and horrible and drawn out. But today, I think I am seeing a possible way to have a go at another round of hope and trying ... not sure... maybe though... I see an inkling of possibility.

As to what was said to Van Gogh ... what a terrific possibility to imagine ... for me it would be my poetry and kindness and humor. It's a lofty goal to reach for and worthy of attempting even if failure is the final result.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Moon Willow

I took the What is your Indian Name quiz and mine was Moon Willow




You are unique, there is no "1" thing that makes you who you are. You follow your own path despite what others may think.

good vs evil

I wrote a poem and then reread poems and spent some time tweaking Profoundly Flagrant. I love writing and honing poetry. I worked on the rhythm and the rhyme and some word choices. The original idea seems to have existed from the onset, and what I do is reveal it and clarify it.

From Criminal Minds, Aristotle said,
"Evil brings men together."
I heard this and had a flash on kindness and how that would have to mean alone. All of a sudden, for an instant, I make sense. Just like the flash ... for an instant.

Again from another Criminal Minds, a quote by writer Cory Doctorow:
"All secrets are deep. All secrets become dark. That's in the nature of secrets."
I've kept so many secrets, thoughts, things. It seems that there is no possible confession that can adequately flush them clean. No matter how much I wish it, I seem to keep silent to those I should express myself to; and even when I do speak, what say seems only the tip of it all.

It has been pouring out. Now it is time to catch up on Craig Ferguson's show for the week ... and laugh a little. That's always a good thing.

impossibility

Just wrote Impossibility. Oddly a creative moment.

Survivor...

I love survivor. I find people interesting.

I have been playing the survivor game. It's a bit simplistic but I wanted to see what happened at the end ... Well, the game's a bit buggy and it stops giving you points and stuff you need when you get so close to the end that awarding you would exceed the max.

Anyway, I am determined to get all 1907 points which is hours and hours away ... I am also growing my tribe by friending survivor players. I am aiming first for 50 members (at 39 now) ... ideally I want to get 100 to 500 ... assuming there are enough people playing. But for the moment, 50 is hard and is what I am aiming for .. something significantly bigger than anyone else. At this point, I think I have the largest tribe, but to reach that within a day ... seems insignificant.

It's all another way to pass the days away. I enjoy the irony of having the largest tribe and yet I live alone, talk to no one, and have no real friends (just people I know). Filling up the hollowness with cyberspace.

I have only shed tears once in the past two days. I forget what I was thinking, but I think I posted here then.

I am pragmatic about living and trying to keep the pain at bay. I know I am wasting each day but I don't know what else to do. Anything else just hurts so much. Even just thinking this now hurts.

I saw that Wanda was on facebook so I friended her. There is a sad solace in knowing someone you like wants to connect with you, even if you don't know why or never speak.

I like Wanda, She's been to my house a number of times. She came when I was doing really poorly in 2008 and made a real difference to me. Helped me leave the house and get food. She really doesn't know me well and yet she acted with extraordinary kindness and generosity, given how far she had to drive to help me. I don't know her really at all. I just like her. She is odd and unusual. She is a really exceptional person.

It is weird to be alone and not alone. Been that way all my life in many different forms. Sometimes I was surrounded by people, and now there are none. Yet it is the same really. Inside I am alone. I suppose that is a stupidly obvious comment, but I just connect to this isolation so much of the time...

Monday, October 25, 2010

Leonardo DaVinci

From Criminal Minds: Leonardo DaVinci once said,
"Our life is made by the death of others."
Telling.
"If there must be trouble, let it be in my day, that my child may have peace." Thomas Paine
Please understand me. Forgive me. Let me be forgiven.

Toxcity

I wrote a poem called that. I do feel that hanging with me is toxic. I have always felt that way. I have always been afraid to be too involved, to be to close. With my kids it has been a compromised between loving thenm and being sure that they had the best I could offer and keeping them at arms length so I wouldn't harm them with how I am.

It breaks my heart to feel their loss and yet I orchestrated it. They didn't leave me. I let them go. I talk them how to be on their own. I gave them Concord Academy instead of me because it had everything I am not, structure, reliability, opportunity. I had love, but it wasn't enough. I watched over them to be sure no one harmed them. I couldn't protect them from everything. I couldn't teach them everything, but I could be their as an anchor, always on their side. I fought for them like a pit bull when I felt it necessary. I protected them and I always loved them. But I let them go. I taught them how to have a good life without me, because I am poison.

I suupose they couldn't have helped but felt the distance at times. I know I wasn't perfect. I was late when i never should have been. I am sorry. But I was so afraid to leave to others without my guidance and so afraid that having them close would stifle them. I know I did well. I was very good at teaching them how not to have me in their lives. I wish they were but I know they shouldn't be. It just hurts. I love them so much but I know that I can't be around them anymore. I want it but I can't have it.

I look at Princess now. She could have had a better home. But no one loves her more. Now, everyone would kill her. She'd old. She needs help walking/ She's just old. She iis not ill. She is not in pain. I don't do the best by her, but she wants to be here. She wants to be here more than I do. I can't abandon her. I can't kill. It is hard to take care of her, but I manage. It's not ideal, but she doesn't deserve to die just to be more convenient for me. She doesn't deserve to be killed after a lifetime of loving me and the kids unconditionally. And she even loved the other dogs and cats too. She likes being with me still. I don't know why. I suppose you have to be a dog or a cat to be able to live with me or to have me in your life.I she wasn't crippled for her sake. I am not ideal for giving her the best life this way. But my short comings don't mean she should die. She likes life. And she still loves me and wants to be with me. God knows why; I don't,

Saturday, October 23, 2010

NCIS conversation

McGee said: "I can't imagine what I would do if I lost my eyesight." Zeva responded, "You'd adapt." McGee, "What if I didn't." Zeva, "You'd fall into a deep depression and eventually you would die."

Made me laugh. Ironic how accurate humor can be. "eventually" kind of sticks in the heart.

Helen Keller

Criminal Minds quote: Helen Keller once said:
"Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of overcoming it."
Why am I not one of those many who overcome? What is wrong with me?

Friday, October 22, 2010

Albert Camus...

On April 6 2009 I tweeted:
"In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer." —Albert Camus ; not ever finally (just again)
I question this ... maybe because I have returned to before the "again" phase ... or maybe because there is a limit, and I do not have an invincible summer within me, hard to know and though time will tell, the passage of time is slow and agonizing.

I seem to be successful at cutting ties to everyone. I have social interaction on FaceBook Survivor blogs with strangers. While I enjoy engaging, I know I am alone and tired.

I wonder when Christie will contact me and if Kian will. Sad to think about.

Suffering...

From Criminal Minds, Philosopher Khalil Gebran
"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls, the most massive characters are seared with scars."
Why am I how I am? I am weak. I am kind. I am useless. I am a failure at being alive, alone, a friend.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Princess

I can't kill her. I help her walk. She always eats. She wants to go out. I don't know what's right. I just don't have it in me to kill her. I don't know if that makes me a horrible person or kind. I can't tell. I just can't kill her, not while she fights to live.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

july 2010

Christie visited me in June and in July I failed to make my phone payment that was months overdue and my phone was shut off on the 8th. I went back to writing in my obituary journal.

07-14-10 10:23 pm
From Criminal Minds:
“One need not be a chamber to be haunted. One need not be a house. The brain has corridors surpassing material place.”  (unsure) … Emily Dickerson
“There is no witness so dreadful, no accuser so terrible as the conscience that dwells in the heart of every man.” … Olivius ? (unsure)
I was imagining fixing it and paying the bill and didn't.

07-21-10 10:43 pm
I want to be dead. I am so tired. I am feeling comfort from my ballooning obesity and my disconnected phone. No one can reach me so I don’t feel like no one wants to. Need to pay my bill, but can’t call in payment. Too complex. I wish I could drown in the ocean. I wish I could disappear. 
Then Kian came. It was years ago that Kian visited. I was surprised.

07-26-10 06:15 am
Kian and his girlfriend Chelsea stopped by unexpectedly for a few hours yesterday on their way to Maine. Christie visited for 2 days last month. I want to write this in case I die before things get better. I want both my children to know that if I die before things get better then I want to say at least I am no longer in so much pain. If I die of obesity it is only because I didn’t know how else to let go and I didn’t know how to survive.
I have worked so hard to foster your being who you are and reaching for what matters to you and I don’t want to cripple that with my life or my death.
I don’t want you to ruin your lives for me or because of me and I love both more that you could ever know.
I am so sorry for being who I am.
It is hard to understand why I cannot live with my family and I want you to understand that it is not my fault that I am broken. 
You cannot imagine what it was like to grow up verbally battered and humiliated and taunted. You cannot understand what it is like to live in a family where they tease and ridicule you and do not like you for who you are. Maybe it would be different if I had the capacity socially to form sustainable friendships. Maybe it would have been different if I was enjoyable to hang out with and a benefit to other people more than a drain. Maybe if my brother had not molested me at such a critical moment of time when I was 11, I would not panic the way I do and freeze and let horrible things happen to me because I cannot speak and fight back for myself. I have spent my life trying to fix myself, to function in spite of myself and I have failed. I am so sorry.
I keep hitting my head hoping the pain will give me some peace and it is not working anymore. I just want to die. I don't care what happens to anything anymore. I am a coward to live and I am a coward to die and I just want to be dead. If there is a god, please make the pain end. I want to be dead. Please kill me. Please, Please help me die.
07-27-10 09:01 pm
I am so afraid of being myself around people, I am so afraid of feeling shunned for who I am. I so afraid of being discarded like garbage. I want to be heard and I want to be unseen. I am disgusted by the results of how I am.
I don’t understand the pain. I know it hurts.
07-28-10 02:57 am 
I am afraid that everyone is going to give up on me.
I not afraid people will give up on me anymore. They have. I just want to be dead. Let me not wake up tomorrow, Please let me be dead.
07-30-10 06:19 pm 
Kian didn’t get phone turned on this week and in 40 minutes it can’t be fixed until next week. I don’t know why. He may not even come today like he said he would and even if he does, he needs to be at the airport by 8 am tomorrow to return his car. If he doesn’t come I will not know why. I hate hope. I had no right to be upset because he doesn’t have to help me and it is not his fault I am the way I am.
When he showed up last Sunday, I had real hope. I hate that. Less than ½ an hour now. Even if he comes, it is too late unless he does it himself. A fleck of hope remains though it is unreasonable to believe it. I wonder when hope he comes will fade into the black void of impossibility?
Anonymous
Before I die I want to post all my journaling on line and all my poetry. I want my dog to have had the rest of her life. I want my children to know how much I love them, how much pain I am in, and how it is best that I died. I want to be heard.
I am so sorry for how I am. 
Fifteen minutes and I will be sure I have no phone until Monday at the earliest. I should not have asked him for help. I wish had not stopped even though I missed him and was happy he came. 
It is harder to know for a fact that you know the truth about me and still you choose to abandon me, to barely include me in your life. I think depression is so ugly no one is wiling to be near it. I can’t imagine the extent of the distaste and disgust that one has to be able to turn away. I wonder if it isn’t a lack of importance or interest. Is it just insignificance? 
I hope that if it is not possible in life that in death my children will find a way to forgive me.
….
Too late for the phone. I must be so stupid to believe in anything. I wish I didn’t feel anymore. It will be worse when he doesn’t show tonight. I don’t want to feel this way.
If I don’t die maybe I can find a way to live by ranting about how horrific is it to be human. I used to believe lawyers were the bottom scum feeders but I think gossip TV and internet reach a new low. Thing is I have learned a bit about rock bottom and that is that until you die, the bottom is bottomless. Doesn’t bode well for humanity.
It’s twenty till eight and it looks like he is no show, but he could stop by for a few minutes on the way back. Hard to be sure. Hope is fading fast.
At least while I think about other things there is a reprieve from pain.
It’s almost 8:30pm. I have been imagining when I finally give up how I will drive to the post office, or across NH to the open Walmart. I wonder when I will give up. Kian and Chelsea don’t fly out until Saturday night, will I concede to the fact that they won’t come before then? Hard to know. I imagine going out a lot and rarely do. I feel like I am floating in quicksand.
No one should feel this bad. It’s nearly 9pm.I don’t think Kian is coming. I wish this didn’t hurt so much.
I think my mother and father keep my kids from me. I wish they would stop. I hurt so much. There is always a new low. That is what I have to look forward too as long as I live.
It’s 10:37pm now. My son is likely not coming. I’m feeling numb about it. I’m cold. The it’s 62 degrees inside, 56 outside. The cold feels better than the pain. TV is distracting. I live it instead of me for a while.
Still wonder will he come? At 11:24pm that’s unlikely but I still want to believe he might come. I’m afraid to go any where, even the post office, because I might miss him.
07-31-10 12:43 am
Kian didn’t come yet. Not sure if he even gives me a thought or anything.
1:42am he didn’t come. 5:53am, guess he won’t be coming. I wish I could explain why he forgot me. 7:11am, maybe I will sleep a bit. Still did not go out.
It is time to take the pictures down off my wall. Pack up nice things and throw out the rest. It is time to get ready to die. I no longer want to be anywhere. There is no hope for me. I just need to get the courage to die.

fell down

I fell down on the two steps entering the house while helping Princess in. It is not winter and these are small steps. I have no idea how I will make it through the winter.

Princess has more life in her than I do. She is 17. But while she needs help walking, she doesn't seem to be poor health otherwise. Other than being old.

I keep thinking that she stays alive to keep me going. It's ironic that everyone wants her dead, when she's the reason I get out of bed each day and walk at all.

I feel like I will let her down. Dogs are great beings. Princess loves me no matter how I am. I think she walks me more than I walk her.

family

I learned to love the feeling of family from my grandmothers. My father's mother especially. I never fit in but I loved the feeling of belonging ... or wanting to belong.

I often only quote criminal minds... I did so on the 17th of april as well.

04-17-10 05:59 am
From Criminal Minds:
“There are some that only employ words for the purpose of disguising their thoughts.” … Voltaire
“We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others that in the end we become disguised to ourselves.” … François de la Rochefoucauld

“So much of what is best in us is bound up in our love of family that it remains the measure of our stability, because it measures our sense of loyalty.” … Poet Han Yu Long? (unsure)

Monday, October 18, 2010

almost full circle

These next few entries are right before I started this blog.

I suppose that is how the spiral works.

04-09-10 08:46 pm
Tinkie died over Easter. She was 12. She disappeared: drowned, eaten, run over, ran away to die, upstairs dead — who knows?
Princess is having more and more problems walking. She’s dying slowly.
I am as good as dead. Hopeless. Horrific excuse for a life. Eating myself to death to resemble living. Harder and harder to enjoy anything. Hard to get out. Hard to breathe. Hard to live. So much pain.
From Criminal Minds:
It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us.” … Norman Maclean. 
“The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love, and to be greater than our suffering.” … Ben Ocree? (not sure)
I think I am a fraud.

04-10-10 04:46 pm
I am dying to live. I need to find a way to live. I want my family to care enough to help, and I have to accept that this way is not available to me.
I need dignity and I have lost it. I need to respect myself and I have never known how. I know why. I do not know how to change it.
Please don’t let me drown in my alone abyss.
Well I hoped, but today, I know that I will drown alone. It will be ugly and not worthy of any one to bother with. I continued this post.
04-10-10 04:46 pm

I didn’t know there was no bottom until this time. I used to think I hit bottom and then came back up for air.
I need someone who doesn’t take it personally that I fail, because there are no guarantees.
I’d like to do good with my life whether I make it or not. A form of redemption.
I have so much love for my daughter and son and I am caught between the horrific option of involvement and the horrific option of non-involvement which leads to my death by self-destruction.
I do not know if it will be one year or five or more, but alone I am almost sure of the inevitable. 54 years of history is weighing heavily against me. It would be a real miracle to succeed on my own, without anyone on my side. I need a touch of kindness. I am asking for anyone’s help  who has that to offer and who will not be harmed by knowing the truth of how horrifically I live.
Most people can only tolerate a story that has a happy ending. One can hear about depression only from one who has overcome. 
From Criminal Minds:
“Many persons have the wrong idea about what constituted true happiness. It is not attained through self-gratification, but through fidelity to a worthy purpose.” Hellen Keller
Sinking In Abyss
My next post is very telling about why I write this depressing horrific exposure of how I am.

04-14-10 10:19 pm
I wrote what I did on the 10th to make it to today. Nearly out of food, haven’t showered in nearly a year. Have not brushed my teeth in months or washed my hair, nor combed it. I cannot remember when.
I need to pay my mortgage before I am ninety days overdue. I need to buy food, dog food too.
I am so tired.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

hard to breathe when I do anything

Even caring for Princess is really hard. I am so very tired. I don't much care about anything anymore. I just too tired.

Birthday Wish

I wrote Birthday Wish on February 21, 2010 ... a clear indication of how bad I was doing. I stopped entering in that blog and went back to my obituary in progress journal. Mostly just quoting Criminal Minds.

I didn't have the heart to write, I let the quotes speak for me.
03-04-10 04:15 am
From Criminal Minds:
 “Hope in reality is the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torments of man.” … Nietzsche
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without words and never stops at all.”  …Emily Dickerson
“Within the core of each of us is the child we once were. This child constitutes the foundation of the what we have become, who we are, and what we will be.” …Neuroscientist Dr. R Joseph
“There is no formula for success, except perhaps for an unconditional acceptance of life and what it brings.” …Arthur Rubenstein

“Family is a haven in a heartless world.”  Christopher Haven

03-27-10 11:00 am
From In Plain Sight:  “We all live in hiding. In one way or another each of us conceals pieces of ourselves from the rest of the world. Some people hide because their lives depend upon it, others because they don’t like being seen, and then there are other special cases, the ones that hide because, because, because they just want someone to care enough to look for them.”

03-30-10 09:15 pm
From Criminal Minds:
 “Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable.” … Shakespeare
 “The irrationality of a thing is not an argument against its existence but rather a condition of it.” … Nietzsche
found on internet:
“To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. “… Nietzsche 
“Whoever despises himself nonetheless respects himself as one who despises. “… Nietzsche
this next quote made me laugh out loud:
“A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation. “… Nietzsche
From Criminal Minds:
“Tragedy is a tool for the living to gain wisdom, not a guide by which to live.” … Robert Kennedy
“Live as is you were going to die tomorrow. Die as if you were going to live forever.” Ghandi
“In order to learn the important lessons in life one must each day surmount a fear” … Ralph Waldo Emerson
“The question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or the others crazy?” … Albert Einstein
“Let your heart feel for the affliction and distress of everyone.” … George Washington
“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.” … Eleanor Roosevelt
“Nothing is easier than denouncing the evildoer; nothing more difficult than understanding him.” ... Dostoevsky
“Between the idea and the reality, between the motion and the act falls the shadow.” … T.S. Elliot
“The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.” … Harriet Beecher Stowe
You needn't ever feel sad over my death, because the pain will have ended. Anywhere else is a better place.

March 2009

Today is a really bad day. I want to finish, because I can't tell if I can stand it anymore. I hate how I am.

I started a blog I called "thoughts" but labeled obituaryinprogress the only entry was a mediocre attempt at trying to write something.

On Monday March 2, 2009 I wrote blogging ... the art of indecent exposure.

The rest of the year I posted my poetry. I struggled to make it and then I slowly slipped downwards. Especially after I tried to fix my bathroom and ended up without a shower or leveled floor.

On January 30, 2010, I wrote Mutualism and on the 31st I wrote Evolution: The Curious Case of Dogs both in response to Christie's blogs. I was on the edge ready to fall hard and you would never know it.

Right now I think, I don't want to live anymore. It is just too hard. Too much pain and I hate being alive. I just hate it.

Friday, October 15, 2010

another quote

Criminal Minds, quote by Albert Einstein
"The question that sometimes drives me hazy: Am I or the others crazy?"
The physical exhaustion from even the most minimal activity is making it very hard to see a way to manage winter. I usually struggle to manage the mental stress and pain. The physical is a whole new dimension.

I can't blame anyone but me. I have done this to myself.

last entry of 2008

I don't remember when Christie visited, either it was July or August, possibly June. I have no sense of time or the order of things unless I can anchor them to something specific.

I would have to find something I wrote or emailed to be sure. I expect at some point I will figure it out.

The last entry of 2008 was simple and to the point. I was starting to move out of the ditch ... getting help and getting state medicaid assistance and food stamps. With the help of my daughter, that came to be as well many other things. By October I had medication and was starting to see a psychologist, by december I had successful help filing for disability, and June of the following year, I had received it. All I posted in 2009 was poetry from my past, much of which I tweaked, as I usually do. I did a lot of other things trying to make my life work and failed at many and by the end of the year as I was switched to medicare, I slipped and started to fall off the grid.

I can tell the stupid things I tried to do and failed, I could write of successes that ultimately faded. I spent a lot of that year talking with Deedee and enjoying her. By February of 2010 (I think, could have been March or April), I let her go. I saw that I had nothing else to offer her and I was just a drain and all I could do was annoy her. I don't think she would remember it that way, but I am not a good friend. I don't understand how to maintain a friendship and I get too depressed to manage one. It is not right to impose on a person you care and value and I couldn't see any hope. I have always liked Deedee, I always will.

The entry on 2008 was a quote from Criminal Minds. Often, when I can't express all of what's happening I resort to poetry or TV.

08-06-08 10:18 pm 
"There is no refuge from confession but suicide and suicide is confession" … Daniel Webster
I am not suicidal. But suicide has been a real question of living for me since high school. In high school I spent a lot of senior year getting everyone to tell me what they thought love was. I was confused and conflicted by the love my parents had for me as their daughter as evidenced by all the privileges and the education I was given, and the complete lack of like much less love for who I am.

One can honestly consider this blog and my poetry as a confession. I often write for those I love to forgive me. I would like that but more to the point I would like to forgive myself for how I am.

All the love and kindness I have given and could give would never balance how I am in my own eyes. I am truly sorry. How do you ever balance infinity?

Thursday, October 14, 2010

So much unsaid

In reading my past posts, it seems as though I am trying to write what was unsaid... the irony is that there is so more unsaid as I am writing.

In April of 2008 I received a package from Japan, telling  me that they were going to sign a new contract with David unless I contacted them. I also missed the letter also in the package telling me that they would pay David for me for existing contracts and let him pay me.

I always look back in hindsight and wish I could have seen that second letter or just acted on the first. In hindsight I always see small actions that could have changed the out come of events to follow. It seems real, but some of my speculations are probably lies. How could I know what would have changed things and made a difference. I think in truth the best any action might have done would have been to postpone where I am today. I have seen many of actions I have taken as critical to making things hold together, so this seems more plausible.

It speaks to how I live my life. Always on the edge, fighting to stay alive, above water. And when I am above water, I am trying not to be pulled under.

So again I am going to ask my children to forgive me for being how I am. I had a conversation on the phone with my daughter the other day and she asked me why don't I do something ... and I thought silently ... if you only knew the simple things that I cannot do today that are so much more important, you still wouldn't understand. I am so sorry for how I am. I am slipping away and while I live, I hope you forgive me. After I am gone, I  don't think forgiveness will matter to me anymore. I would hope that what makes your life best is how you choose to think of me. I am just so very very sorry.

In May or June, a friend, Wanda, talked with me on the phone. I ran out of food and had not eaten for days and felt fine. It was a tuesday or wednesday and was concerned that I would be ok if she waited until Friday. At the time, I did not see why she was concerned and it was only much later that I realized I was letting go.

Her visit made a difference. My nephew, Phil came sometime then and bought me a lot of food. And my daughter came which started the process of filing for disability which I couldn't focus enough to manage.

In February, March and April, my parents had paid bills for me and the banking got messed up and they got frustrated, realizing that I wasn't permanently solving the problems I had.

I understand what it must feel like helping me, and watching me slip under again and thinking it was a waste. There is truth to that, but in the moment, it did matter and I did value it and I did try. I am so sorry I fail you.

I understand that you have to let an anchor go or pull you under too I don't want that.

I am not stopping trying. I expect I will get the car payment and phone bill paid and even my current tax bill.

I expect, that somehow, I will resolve the past debt, get ink cartridges from staples so I can write a letter, and maybe reestablish selling stuff ... when is the question of course.

Still, I expect to lose my house, and eventually I will die. Sometimes, like now when it feels really bad, I think that maybe if there is kindness in the universe, it will be sooner. Sometimes, I imagine that my children will have children and I think of how much I would love to know them, Those times I think later would be kinder. Sometimes when I laugh or think of something else I hope for later. Forgive me if I hope for sooner and it comes true.

I don't write about the good times, not because they do not matter, because they do. They make such a difference. I write to manage pain. I do not need to manage pain when things are good.

My daughter's visit in the summer of 2008 made such a huge difference and I so sorry I fell apart by the end of 2009. But you have to realize how long I survived and what I did do well, even with all I did not do well. I am so grateful for everything anyone does for me, however small. It always makes a difference.

There are two more entries in 2008. Here is the first.

07-25-08 04:05 am
I’ve been stressing and doing very little trying to find my way out. Things are changing. I would say before yesterday Or maybe the day before, I was under water wondering when or if I would surface. Then I realize because my daughter was helping and talking to me that I would be on the way out of life, but I didn’t know if I would ever resurface. I was trying to find a way to live very small, wanting nothing but my dogs, the ability to be self sufficient, and try for humor and company.
Yesterday I caught myself wanting things. Actually it was 5 days ago (Sunday) when I wanted to weigh under 250 before I bought food. At that time I weighed 256. I ran out of food except for about 4 oz of cream cheese (I ate the last of it Wednesday) and I have Green First Dietary supplement of Fruits and vegetables (45 cal packets). I wasn’t hungry unless I got out of bed and I drank water and tea and ate some spicy 0 cal. mustard too. Yesterday I weighed 249, and I went out and bought food (2 bags of popcorn, small red potatoes, and 2 bananas) with the last $5.50 I had. I didn’t intend to not eat that long—for that many days, it just happened one day at a time.
A few more goals crept in yesterday before I realized I was wanting things… Like having 250 be my top weight and weighing under 240 next and eventually having 200 be my top weight. And also wanting the living room cleaned out of all the junk lying around, and eventually being able to walk around the kitchen, bedroom, and dining room easily.
I think my head has surfaced, I can see myself picturing a life of living rather than one of existing. I am pragmatic. I know I will be back under again and I am a long way from making it out of the water but I pretty sure I am in the light when I look down into the black rather than in the black looking up for light.
This next piece is a letter I am writing for my parents, I’ve been writing it in my head for weeks. I have been thinking that when I had written it the way I wanted that I would send it, but at this moment I am pretty sure I won’t.  And I think that’s why I will probably stay broken, but I can’t control what else will break and I don’t want to cause that.  Anyway here goes.
Dear Ma and Dad.
I want to apologize for being such a burden when you have limited years left and don’t want to be taking care of me. You don’t have money to spare and live the way you want to live. You want me to tell you want I need and what I need is to not be broken and that isn’t possible. I’ve spent my lifetime trying to fix me and I have failed. Perhaps you can understand if I start at the beginning. I don’t forget things. I never let go of them. I don’t know how.
Ironically, I think you tried your best to protect me and keep me safe and you did that by isolating me from the world and leaving me to my brothers. I didn’t choose to be who I am, -- overly sensitive – unable to hide what I feel, still I wouldn’t change it for anything. The best of my character comes from that. My brothers made my life miserable, particularly Raimond. No one liked me. Everyone liked making fun of me. I found brief reprieve in school and at camp, but it is part of who I am that I cry easily, and everywhere that was known. My nickname of ostrich was accurate, because how could I survived my brothers tormenting if I didn’t stick my head in the sand. You never let them hit me, so all they had was words. Who knows if that would been enough to break me but then add two events that happened in late August when I was eleven, and I think after that not much could be done… cause trust me I have done it all since and nothing changes how I am. I don’t blame anyone. I don’t harbor any ill will towards anyone. I just wish I could fix me.
I was eleven 1 month from eleven and a half. Raimond was 13 one 1month from 14. We were children. Rai was a bully. He was never nice to me until then, when I came back from camp, thin, pretty, and showing the start of breasts. I don’t blame Rai cause he was a child and no one ever stopped him from bullying. He was the strongest and that meant he was always right.
The first event (not sure which came first chronologically) was at the dinner table. We were finishing dinner and eating corn and arguing (fond memories for me) and the Rai and I got into something verbally and he said if I said something again he would hit me over the head with ear of corn. I said he couldn’t that he wouldn’t dare, He said he would if I dared him. When insisted he couldn’t he did. And everyone laughed and said I asked for it. I expected to be safe from him when you were there and I never thought he would do it or that you would allow it. Sure it didn’t hurt me, it humiliated me. I was defenseless. Seems pretty silly on one level (but he took the only safe place from him away from me) add add the add that to the event and can you possibly see how it is not silly to me.
There were three parts to this. First night shortly after I got back from camp Rai came downstairs into my room and started talking to me – about camp, about how much weight I lost and how good I looked, about my winning a race, about a lot of things. It felt great that my big brother was talking to me as a sister he liked. It was a novel experience and I was thrilled. And then the conversation turned to my breasts, and asked me if he could touch them and I said no and he kept persisting and I kept saying no. And so he tickled my side and as I reacted he grabbed one and pushed back. I don’t know if I said no or nothing when he asked if I liked it after telling me that it felt nice. He wanted to touch me again and I said no. I was freaked out and I had pushed myself back against the headboard of my bed with my arms clenching my knees to my chest tightly. So he talked some more before leaving making sure I was calmed down and then he left and I locked the door.
The second time 1 or 2 nights later (pretty sure it was the next night), he just came in when I was hanging out in my room. I was scared from the start. He talked for a while and then wanted to touch me again. I said no. He tried to convince I would like it and that he liked it and then he tickled me like he was playing and groped me.  I kept telling him to stop. I was terrified and eventually he did stop. Again he waited awhile talking and left.
I got smart after that and I went into my room when he wasn’t around and locked the door and didn’t let him in when he asked me to. And so I thought I was safe. But one night (possibly the next night) he hid in waiting. I looked and I thought he wasn’t around, I went downstairs, and just as I was almost there, he bolted by me (from out of nowhere it seemed) and pushed his way into my room before I could stop him. This time there was much less pretense about wanting to talk to me. He wanted to tickle me, and I said no he did anyway. He came onto the bed tickling. I was terrified. I tried to fight him off, but I wasn’t strong enough. Eventually, to limit my struggling he pinned my arms above my head and used his body on top of mine to pin me down so I couldn’t move, then took one hand to hold both my wrists so he grope my breasts with the other. And I begged him to stop and to let me go and then tried to kiss me and stick his tongue in my mouth and I remember clenching my lips and teeth together and turning my head to the side and straining my neck so he could reach me. I was so far beyond terrified. I have no idea of how long I struggled, but I remember feeling every part his body pinning mine down. I was hysterical. Not sure why he stopped, why he didn’t do anything more than that. Maybe it was his inexperience, his guilt, or even his conscience, or maybe he got scared by how I was freaking out. Anyway you look at it, it was a blessing that he stopped.
Again I remember him staying awhile, talking to me, making sure I was not going to say anything, so I complied, talking with him as if I was ok so he would leave, and he did. That was a week or two before he went away to boarding school. After that I spent every night upstairs watching TV with you ma. I sat at your feet. I remember you thinking it odd. (I think you sensed something was wrong, but how could you or any one else ever conceive of what actually happened. Until Rai left for high school, I didn’t go down to my own room unless everyone was going to bed and I could be absolutely sure Rai that could not follow me and get into my room before I could lock him out. After that I always locked myself in.

back again...

This quote by Samuel Johnson is from criminal minds:
"Almost all absurdity of conduct rises from the imitation of those we cannot resemble."
Sounds plausible, however, leaves the question of who decides what is absurd.


I thought I was not sinking anymore, but I am. We had warm weather and I wasted it sleeping. I find it harder and harder to walk across the yard. Even Princess does better than I do. I succeed at getting to the dump but haven't paid three key bills. I am exhausted physically and mentally and I think how impossible it will be to make it through the winter.


It's a dark place to be.


The next entries in my old obituary journal were written during July 2008
in july 2008 
transcend suffering and injustices that have been perpetrated against us – I fail this, can I ever change or step beyond it? Do people transcend or do they never succumb?

I also wrote this simplistic poem, untitled.

If only I was the daughter you wished for
if only I was the girl you always wanted me to be
If only I lived elsewhere, as you say, “near” to you
If only I was the something else other than me 
Yet, if I were to not be me 
I would not want to be

and then Whisper also in July 2008

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

documenting your life on twitter or facebook

People are strange. Ok I know how ironic it is that I say that. Still, it is odd to me what a majority of people journal about. Some highlight the places they go outside their routine day. I understand that. But it makes you wonder how they feel about their lives ... the daily part. Others tell you details like go shopping for food ... I remember one guy who documented everything ... brushing his teeth, eating breakfast etc ... makes you wonder if that is done to substantiate the importance of their existence (which means they secretly doubt it -- or why the need to substantiate it). What you get is nothing or very little of who they are and what matters to them. Others put up fun stuff which is cool or connect about interesting research or stuff. That is connected involvement that seems healthy. I enjoy posting on Survivor's blog. Most people use it to bitch and degrade the players (what a waste). I like discussing the strategic play, the humorous or strange behavior and I like to do it with polite clever language. There is a lot of rude nasty mean ranting and complaining that mirrors some of the behavior being complained about. I love the commentator blog ... it is witty, polite, clever, honest ... he never attacks players even those with the worst behavior (rude, mean, and bigoted), while he cleverly comments on it.

When I think of my day ... say the day I went shopping, what I remember is the gentleman at the local store who opened the door for me, to which I said thank you and then the clerk who let me clean my glasses with windex and paper towel. I remember appreciating these people and letting them know how nice they were. At Walmart I remember the customer who helped me get the diet cranberry juice off the top shelf and my chatting with him and his girlfriend telling them how wonderful he was to stop and help me and how I preferred not drink sugar. And I remember one clerk who helped me twice, and how the second time she pointed out that she was the same person who helped me find something else. I went into a long thank you, explaining how I am unable to recognize faces, but how extraordinary her help had been before and now and how delightful it was to shop there (no idea what she helped me with ... oh year candles, trash bags and earlier dog shampoo). She smiled after that and I could see that I made a good impact. And then guy clerk who helped me find rags and the thermostat I need for my heater. We spent a long time debating which one and he was a total sweetheart , just the nicest human being you could imagine. He was talkative and I can imagine others being annoyed, but I just saw him as a quirky, delightfully kind and helpful human being. Just seeing who he was makes me smile.

To me, living well includes verbally appreciating and acknowledging people who serve you, regardless of how nice or pleasant they are.

Other aspects of my day revolve around princess ... interacting with her, trying to meet her needs and make her days happy and letting her know what a dog she is and how much I love her and my guilt that I don't care for her as well as she should be cared for. I am so incredibly pleased she loves her new mat.

That's what is interesting and valuable about my day ... along with interesting insights stories of humor or political stuff and humor from TV or the internet, and sometimes what my children post. I love things that make me laugh. That's what makes up the substance. I suppose if I saw some beautiful scenery ... like the stream when it is full and rushes over the rocks, or if I listened to music and the tune or lyrics moved me or were funny, I would include that too.

Funny how one thing turns into so much more when I consider and reflect on my day.

looking at/in the mirror of my past

It is pretty eerie and slightly odd to look at how the past is repeating .. how I am once again thinking and saying pretty much the same things ... wanting to write about the same experiences that haunt me ...trying to make sense of how I am and who I am. I would like to say I didn't see things as clearly then as now, but the writing says otherwise...

The first part of the June 28, 2008 entry could have been written today.


06-28-08 10:04 am - part 1 of 3
Maybe I am going a little bit crazy. Or maybe I am just finding my way out. My way to seize onto hope once again and to live a bit longer until the next time I am back to here. Maybe I can keep finding hope until it’s a good time to die—a bit older, having met and loved grandchildren, left sometime worthwhile behind again.
So I am imagining that I learn how to write more eloquently the nightmares of my past, that I find the voice to speak the words to tell them of their impact, how their footprints have weighed into my soul.
But those whom I remember and value won’t just be my children, my brothers, my parents, the friends I’ve loved, the people I have liked and enjoyed, those who have loved me or even just liked me a bit, they will also be the strangers in the news, people who die never having been known, children who are innocent, characters in imaginary stories told by other people whom I come to know through TV — who in a real way give me pieces of hope I can string together to live one more moment over and over again.
Maybe I am a bit crazy. But I feel more known by these storybook people than anyone, maybe even me.
So I imagine that I find the way to accomplish the impossible, to clean out my home, to rid myself of all the extraneous, to step into the light. I write it in my poetry, in my stories, in my memories and who is to say what is real.
The second part was a letter I wanted to write to my brother Raimond:
06-28-08 10:04 am - part 2 of 3
My letter to my oldest brother Raimond:
The piece I have been avoiding is how I came to see myself above my bed, floating, looking down on you flattened and pressed against me, pinning my arms to either side while I strained uselessly to free myself. (Even then when I slipped a hand out then the other you grab it out pinning them over my head. I said you tried to kiss me and I stretched my head and neck away to avoid you. But what I forgot even after I remembered was that I pressed my lips tightly, and I clenched my teeth together to keep your tongue out of my mouth. And it still appalls me that that happened. And I still cannot see past the blinding panic to where you backed off and I found myself pressed up against my bed’s headboard with my knees wrapped by my arms held tightly to my chest, while you spoke to me, trying to calm me down, to assure me, while I stayed as still as possible so you would not change your mind until you finally left. I also leave out the tickling. Your useless attempt to engage me into an agreement to let you touch me. I always said no. What I don’t know and may never know is what happened in that blinding panic that led you to let me go. And I have no idea how long it took. You pretended to like me and I really wanted that from my oldest brother who always teased me and criticized me and called me names. I wanted it to be real that you liked being with me.
I have wanted it to be true all my life – that certain people to want me in their life as I am for who I am and it is never true. Maybe because I don’t find the right people, or maybe because no such person exists for me. Maybe because I am broken. Maybe cause I always was.
Anyway I look at it, you have left your footprint in me and I can’t seem to erase it or fill it in. I cannot seem to make it not matter anymore.
I forgive the child you were who had no idea of the consequences. And I disrespect the adult you are that is still as selfish and as insensitive as you ever were. I know this because of that Christmas where you put it to our parents to choose you or me, unfairly. And even though you backed down because Rich intervened, they did choose and they chose you. And that $1000 they gave me that Christmas did not make it otherwise, though I know in my heart my mother tried to balance the books. She wanted to, because she wants to be fair, but you cannot balance infinity. You can’t change preferring one child more than the other, no matter how much you try to hide it, when the truth is that you have a preference. Maybe preference is the wrong word. When you wish your child were different, you negate who they are. Maybe, my burden is that I cannot avoid seeing it.
I see your actions that Christmas as taking back the power you thought you had lost when you were out-ed. You were afraid and you, true to your character, a bully. And when you felt in control you relented.
What is most disturbing about you is that you seem to have no remorse for your actions as a child. You want this story hidden forever. The one promise I will make you is that it will be told. One day your children or maybe your grandchildren will know.
Everyone condemns me for being the ostrich, for hiding my head in the sand. How else could I have survived, You all taught me (through surviving you) how to see the best elements in people, to bring them into the light, to appreciate them. You also taught me how to see the negative and then discount it, render it irrelevant, regardless of the accuracy of that. So chose my husband unwisely. I choose to stay connected with my family, unwisely. I choose friends unwisely. I love unwisely. I hide from the world to be safe and yet I cannot thrive and remain isolated.
That’s what I would tell Raimond.
The final part of this entry addresses the true state of mind I had and have. I feel guilty that I understated the generosity of Phil. We are extremely different people and yet we are family. I remember him as a child and how he was always treated more harshly and critically than his sister. My heart went out to him then. When as young adult he needed help, I offered my home to him, helped him clean up his apartment and move in. No one in his or my family understood. They thought I was weird to help him, and that there was something wrong about it. They were wrong and both Phil and I knew that. I offered him a haven because I could and because it mattered and made a difference to him. Eventually, he moved on and went into the Navy. I feel blessed to have been able to be a part of a good thing for him that made a difference in his life. I feel more blessed by his life-long friendship. I cannot overstate his generosity to me. He allows me to talk freely and I tell him and anything and everything. He tolerates listening to me which can be a real burden at times as I go on and on (and repeat stuff over and over). He visited me more than anyone, even my children (once they left for college). He spent days at a time helping me. It never seems like enough ... because what is enough is way more than anyone could offer.  He has bought food. helped me with wood, all sorts of stuff. It is inaccurate to say I want more as a reprimand for his not having done more and I don't mean it that way ... I may have momentary weaknesses where I feel that about him but it is not accurate or fair. Yes I want more... I will always want more. It is not his short coming for offering what he does, but rather mine for what I need/want -- always more. The fact is that he has been way more generous than anyone who loves me is or would ever imagine being... and what he does has such a significant impact. To say I value and appreciate him in my life is so inadequate to how I feel and to the impact his generosity, friendship and love has means to me ... I have been blessed to have blessed and lucky to have had him as a relative in my life.
06-28-08 10:04 am - part 3 of 3
All I see is hopelessness, because humanity is corrupt and hopeless. There is real evil in the disregard for other people’s lives. In Zimbabwe, there are scores of people beaten and killed and for what? For the continuation of power and wealth, for those handfuls of people who would rather not let go.
When I was listening to accounts of George Carlin’s humor, I could not help but see that he saw what I see, and I wondered how he survived. Then I heard him explain in an interview that he had a great deal of personal optimism and hope. Unlike me, he found his way to latch onto a way to make his way through life. Like me, he remembered fondly his connection and fondness for his Catholic upbringing That made sense. It is not the truth about people that crushes me, it is my inability to self-sustain.
Childhood carved that out of me. I fought really hard and when I was eleven I won that race, I was healthy, lean, and fit. And then Raimond molested me. I may have looked really good at times, but I was on the edge trying my best to overcome how I was, I have always been on the edge, and as I approach success, it becomes all the more evident. I don’t have the means to survive in this world the way I am. I am unsure that I can ever self-sustain.
So where’s my hope today? It’s on the impossible, that I can win over my ADHD and actually clean out my house, that I can write these stories and that it will matter. Poetry. Fantasies, like Ellen.
And of course, there tends to be some evidence of success and the ability to believe grows – after all, I can never know for sure. The odds my parents will make another gesture to help me hobble along gets more likely, the greater the need.
All of my family wants to wash their hands of me. Phil bets on state aid making the difference. He knows he could offer me one weekend a month for 3 or 4 months and that would make the difference now. He knows setting up a checking account and the means for me to sell my stuff would help me move forward. A moment of reprieve.
I understand why he cannot say yes to these simple gestures. They tie him to the inevitability of my failure (as though he might be responsible when he actually wouldn’t be). How could he ever be to blame. He actions show me more consistent kindness than anyone else. He gives me the one thing that brings me frivolous joy –TV, by paying for my Direct TV. He knows more about me than most and still cares. Unsure about Deedee. Can’t say that about the Fritzes nor Oliver, not my family. Unsure about my children.
In truth no one is completely unlike David Mallon, who I believed was a really good friend but I could not match up the total inconsistency of his behavior with me and when I pressed him about, asking if he was only interested in my massage, he answered with this telling question: “What have you to offer me?”

Once it is on the internet it will be there forever...

I suppose this is what I am counting on... a way to be heard by the universe with no ears. The internet comment is part of the criminal minds episode I am watching... it's about narcissism. Self-love. I suppose as harsh as it may seem, I think I suffer from this. I think in a real way all of what I write tries to explain, justify my life and to make it right. I want it to be right, that I did the best I could, that even if the face of seemingly impossible inabilities at times, that I wanted to do the right thing and that I do the best I can, It doesn't seem so to other people. It makes no sense to me either. How can I not do anything day after day and then all of sudden be able to. I talk briefly to people, politely, thanking them for opening a door, or helping me find something in the store...I know I feel anxious and I am paranoid of falling apart and exposing how I feel, but still I do stuff. How could it have been real that I didn't do anything for so long. I don't understand why I ruin my life and am so unhappy. So many opportunities to do one critical thing to change the course of things ... and yes so many times I do it, but inevitably the time comes when I don't and I can't change the past. I can't fix what I could have at so many points along the way down, It's like pushing that boulder up the hill, slipping and pushing back, repeatedly .... I always lose in the end... how much more do I have to watch myself destroying .... staving off the destruction .... seeming to succeed over and over until it is impossible to fix and even them I keep trying ... and then I keep imaging option out in my mind.... Is there any possibility that this could be different this time?


In the mail I got these past few days, my current tax bill was properly lowered and a letter from the town clerk encouraged me to ask for an abatement of my back tax bill ... It looks likely now that I have a way out... but in the end will I lose my house? How long will it take it I do lose it? What will it be like living through it. Princess seems to be living not dying ... it could be a ling time. Yeas more ... I suppose for me that's what living is, wanting more ... but living how I do.


The next entries I wrote in June 2008 are very telling ... can't help but see the repetitive spiraling down.


It's been so long because it is hard to pretend to try, knowing failure is inevitable, but I see in myself that I will anyway and maybe (or probably) during this push upward I will believe again in the possibility that I can live the rest of my life differently... That's what hope is all about. You see stories of overcoming the odds or adversity I wonder if like me that momentary is part of their life pattern. Not everyone's spirals like mine does. Everyone has their own unique design. I don't know what makes the pattern form, but I suppose I can accept mine and make the best of it, the best of the good times and survive the worst. It isn't like fighting it will make it change anymore than you can control the weather. Maybe accepting how I am and making the best of it give me some measure of peace.


(The only way I ever really reach for the sky, as though I can reach it, is by believing there is a chance, that I have it within me to succeed. It makes sense and I have thought through all the past failures of times I was sure I would succeed and this time seems different. Kind of scary to contemplate that inevitable course of events, given where I am now ... I suppose I should listen to myself more, because I always say, now is all that is real and that matters. Making a difference today is all that matters, regardless of what the circumstances of tomorrow are. How ironic, I think I have found a way out. And I know (believe in the inevitability) that I haven't. Yet, I believe now still.


The entries of my 2008 obituary journal were written between June 17th and June 28th ... They were extractions from 2005 ... the last line of the first is haunting:
Sanity is to know and not to dwell on the secrets inside me.
This is the first entry.
extracted/edited from 2-14-2005 Secrets
I talk a lot about freedom, the way I value it highly. Yet, the reality of it haunts and touches me deeply.
There are people in my life who are genuine, whose goodness is remarkable, and they are not the only few whom I believe truly love me. Still, I do not trust anyone, ever — really.
There are times when I aim not to live defensively, but I suspect that for me to live this way may be an impossibility. Living is risk, and what I believe is that eventually shit will slap my face, not because I act foolishly — even though I do, and not because it is logical — whether or not it is, and not because I am imperfect or even me. Maybe I am a shit-magnet, or maybe shit slaps everyone — I just take it too personally. There is always a reason when shit happens, and there seems to be no way to avoid shit and live — living has no guarantees.
In my heart, I believe living with the truth and the value of freedom opens me. I want to live honest and free, and I run from both.
I hold inside the burning pain that comes with honesty, free, and living. It is difficult and painful for me to be with me. I live to love. Safety is devoid of purpose, and risk is full of terror. Alone is not usually lonely. Among people is usually lonely.
Sanity is to know and not to dwell on the secrets inside me. 
The next is about my dreams. In 2005 I saw the possibility of having them come true. I imagine what I really wanted as I have so many times during my life, as I do even now. It is hard to imagine how I can go from apparently living well to living horrifically. I know inside I am always in turmoil, but it is striking on the outside, how quickly things can change. I am apparently building my life and dreams, repairing my house, fixing my bathroom, cleaning up my yard and then in the next moment I am not ... Todau the state if these things are horrific (not an overly stated). Sometimes I think I understand how I am and other times I cannot make sense of it. I suppose that is why I question my integrity and honesty with myself ... it seems true and untrue. That's a bit crazy. (refer back to my last quote... (too much introspection ...)


These next questions and answers come from workshops with Robert and Rosalind Fritz... today my answers are still the same. I do know what I want.

extracted/edited from 2-28-2005 What I Want
* consider your long-term aspirations and values. -- course helps you create a strategy to build your life around these factors.
long-term aspirations: involved in what I do, learning, excitement, pride in its quality, interested in what I do... I would like to feel that being alive is a good thing. I’d like to respect how I act. I would like to write excellent poetry and essays on stuff that interests me, that is humorous and interesting and engaging.
(I want to write well)
My Values: truth, honesty, love, generosity, freedom, involvement, integrity, dogs and my children, family, home 
* consider your inner life. What  do  you want? Include any spiritual, mystical, aesthetic, or philosophical dimensions that may be important to you.
peace with the unknown. a healthy perspective, perhaps humor with how ultimately meaningless life seems to be.
* consider your relationships. What is the quality of relationships you want in your life?
intimacy, honesty, respect, humor and playfulness, love.
I’d like to be physically intimate with someone who wanted that with me. I enjoy people and I like that. I find people interesting, so interacting with people is fun.
I would like to spend time with people I like who like who I am and who enjoy their time with me.
I want to be able to recognize assholes and choose wisely about that. I’d like to trust myself with other people.
I would like good friends.
I would like to spend time with my children, doing fun stuff or hanging out together. I would like to know my children, what matters to them.
* consider questions of life-style, health, and direction. How do you think about it and what do you want?
I like the variety, freedom of my time and choices to do whatever. I’d like energy, well-being, strength, and pleasure in movement. I like using my mind and contributing to something for someone else.
I would like to do things that are fun and figure out what those are. Often it seems less a question of what I am doing as much as with whom.
I like swimming and playing at the water park in the wave pool. I like walking with someone I like and hanging out.
I like to talk about life, politics, people’s behavior. I like to laugh. I love humor.
* study the way you make important life decisions. study the ways you react or respond to the circumstances in your life.
* consider anything else that seems important to consider as it contributes to you creating more of the life you want to create.
I would like financial ease, to have plenty of money to take care of my home and dogs and to travel to my kinds and to occasionally help them or give to them, and to do learn stuff like poetry and mac programming. (to have a few toys on occasion)
I suppose if I were to dream big, I would want my own pool -- year round accessible / heated -- private -- where I could swim naked -- where I could exercise.
I would like my home to feel spacious and enjoyable to be in and free of clutter  that I don’t have any interest in.

another day...

Been busy ... got food and stuff for Princess. I found a red plush bathmat for $9. Princess loves it as a bed and she makes sure she doesn't pee on it ... she and I are getting better at understanding her whines and movements and while she doesn't bark anymore or talk to me in whispers, she still talks to me just the same. I love my dog... got the trash ready for the dump for Wednesday. I was in way to much pain to do it before then, could barely move or walk. Pain killers and advil took a day but they seem to have worked. Thank god I don't do drugs unless really necessary. I got a small number subscribed to me over a year ago for back pain. Since I haven't been doing anything, I don't hurt. When I do something, I am in agony. Makes the prospect to pulling myself together bleak... cause the physical pain will be back as well. Not against dealing with it, but I will need to see the doctors about my back to see how bad it really is. It's the down side of trying to live and manage...the stress of living comes back into play.

Speak and you will find yourself lying... (If that's not a quote I have heard, then I have just coined it). Princess just peed. She didn't mean to. I put her rug in the laundry and the back up down which pales in comparison. Looks like I have to go back and spend $15 for a back up that isn't on sale... She loves it too much not to. I bought them for her comfort and boy was it worth it. She sleeps so soundly and happily. How could I be so silly not to have realized how happy that silly plush bath rug would make her. Feel a bit guilty that I chose the cheaper smaller set of two as a backup. Sometimes (by which I mean almost always) when I think through a choice, I inevitably make the wrong one and in hindsight, it seems obvious. I know it happens on the big stuff like which bills to pay first or in dealing with people, but now I see it happens on the small stuff too. On the flip side, I never notice when it doesn't happen so my perception is skewed and I have no real sense actual percentage... I think though that that when I weigh the options carefully, I more often than not, choose poorly ...experience never helps me access new situations correctly.

Got inspired to write cause I am watching my recorded shows and criminal minds is back on with this quote by George Bernard Shaw:
"The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it's taken place."
Wow that one hit me... I always am frustrated by how I can't understand why when I say things clearly, people seem to not understand. I think clarity isn't the problem. The problem is that the person listening is different than me and so the filter, the weighing of the information, comes out differently than had I heard it. Makes me wonder how anyone ever successfully communicates.

PS ... note to myself ... I am off meds for ADHD and Anxiety, but when I take a dose from the small supply I have left over (hoarding for emergencies), I function. I started bringing wood and then went to Walmart for the dog stuff and clothes (left me nearly crippled with pain the next day). On the way to walmart was when I took my first dose (after the wood). I took three doses over the last 24 hours and the pain meds during and after,,, (Helps the emotional pain enough so that while it still hurts a lot, I can function.) I don't think there is any way I can live this way because my body gives out so quickly. Question is, can I do what is critical before winter ... cause there is a whole lot of wood to bring in and I need to move, discard stuff in the house to bring it in ... maybe I will get to the doctors ... I have been imagining it. Guess I will see just how far this goes ... is it change or just an up blip on the way down... I suppose either way, it is a good thing.

About Me

United States
speaking to a universe without ears