Rainey Daze and Crazy Nights

Poetry, Paintings, and Ponderings: Through My Eyes

Shattered May 24, 2014

When she goes off the deep end, I break inside. Every tiny little piece of carefully built hope shatters.

I live every single day with fear, hope, and dread. Fear of what she will do, fear of the unknown horrors the day may bring. Hope that we will both come through this day unscathed. I live with dread. Dread invades me with every text or call. But I also live with happiness. Happiness fills my heart and soul when we roll through problems and make it to the other side. I’m happy when the day goes well.

She started drinking again; binge drinking alone in her room. I suspected it, but had not confronted her. I called her at 3 in the afternoon because I needed her to meet me somewhere. She had to admit to me that she couldn’t because she was drunk. (She just got off work at 2:45.) I couldn’t help myself; I was filled with rage. I didn’t let it out at her though; I simply made a statement that she was drinking a lot lately and then said I’d talk to her later and hung up.

She, of course, could not let it go. Text and phone calls began…”Are you upset?” “Are you mad at me?” I tried to ignore, but I finally answered the phone. I didn’t let it all fly, but I told her the truth…I am angry. I am angry because you are choosing an old crutch…drinking..that I thought we’d conquered in the past. I said I wish she would learn how to live through the tough times in life without using a crutch that made things worse.  She got very mad at me and said I was being mean and I had no right to be mad at her because she wasn’t doing anything to me and why did I say these things to her? I reminded her that SHE called me, and I was trying to keep my distance until the anger passed. She hung up.

I was looking forward to this nice, 3-day weekend. In fact, I left work a little early yesterday so I could get home. Instead, I drove around for a while, did some shopping, did anything to avoid going home to her because I could feel the storm brewing.

We avoided one another at first. A couple of hours passed before she came at me, screaming, “Are you not going to talk to me?” I told her I was still angry and felt it was better if we didn’t talk right then. She kept on. Usually I can remain in control of my emotions, but honestly, I’m just tired. Work has been hard, living with her is always difficult, and I feel the tiredness like a disease deep in my soul. I tried to explain to her that I am allowed to have emotions, too, and I’m tired of holding them in because of her. I didn’t unleash the fury of what I felt, but she saw a peek. She turned it around on me and said I made her feel like crap for having addictions. That I was the only one she had to turn to (which is not true). I told her I couldn’t be her “only one” that sometimes I needed a break. She became furious and stormed out, got in her car, and left.

She began sending “I’m sorry” and “I just want to die” messages to her sister and a friend. I couldn’t even find the energy to be worried. Does this make me a horrible person? I didn’t really even get scared because it felt like another manipulation game. She was trying to punish me for being angry.

She eventually came home…after I gave in and played her game. “Please come home so I will know you are safe,” I wrote in a text. Her sister went out and found her and convinced her to go home.

We had an event that my daughters and I were to attend this morning. They went without me. I just don’t want to be around her, or the world right now. She is fine today, happy and having fun. Me? I’m tired. I’m shattered. I’ll be here alone, trying to put the pieces back together so I can make it through the next storm.

 

 

Again October 20, 2013

And…here we go again. If there is anyone out there in anonymous blog-land who actually comes back more than once or twice to read about the shit-show I call my life, you should probably change channels now. You’ve heard this before, multiple times. But, it is my life, this is my blog ABOUT my life, so….

J’s meds are not working. She has been on the same one for a whole year now, and that is incredible for her. Her bipolar ups and downs (she had rapid cycling…ha-ha, I typed “rabid” by accident; that fits, too) started getting crazy about three months ago, so her doctor added another drug to help the first one. He slowly upped it to the proper dosage over a month, but it didn’t work. So, two weeks ago he weaned her back off that one and started a new one.

It’s not working. The voices in her head returned. She is more aggressive than ever, and spent most of her monthly paycheck in a week.

I just want her to be happy and stable. She deserves it. I deserve it. Is it too much to ask?

Back to the drawing board. Again.

 

 

In Over My Head, and Then, Suddenly… October 15, 2013

I am drowning. I’m in over my head is so many ways and I don’t know what to do. Life is throwing me one curve ball after another, and stress is piled so high I can’t see the tunnel, let alone the light at the end of the tunnel. Things at work are getting harder and harder; I feel so much responsibility that I fear I will crack from the weight. At home, relationships are strained and nothing is easy. I miss my dog every single day. I don’t know from one day to another if J, (daughter with bipolar disorder) will be on the roller coaster high, where she becomes agitated, angry, and sometimes exhibits risky behavior; or if she will be on the roller coaster low, where she has trouble functioning and sometimes attempts to take her life. I feel I have no one to turn to’ no one to even understand. And then, suddenly….

Someone at work thanks me. A heartfelt, real, thank you. I feel appreciated.

My two dogs greet me at the door, full of love and energy. They need me and love me.

I look at my daughter and my love for her radiates from my every pore.

I have so much.

Suddenly, my life doesn’t seem as overwhelming.

Suddenly, I feel needed and loved.

Suddenly, I know I will be okay.

 

 

Unseen Burdens October 13, 2013

We all carry unseen burdens. Some hide their burdens very well, and you never know they exist. On the outside, these people seem to have it all, and many around them are envious. They look at their own flawed existence, and wonder why they cannot have that beautiful life.

I’ve lived on both sides. I was once the envied one, not because my life was perfect, but because I hid the flaws so well. I’ve also looked at others and wished I had their life. I’ve lived and experienced enough now, though, to know better. I have my set of problems, just like everyone else. None of us have it all figured out; we are all swimming in our own sea of doubts, fears, and sadness.

I no longer waste time feeling jealous of others. I also no longer hide the flaws of my world. It could be better, but it could be worse. I try to face my personal demons with humor. When depression sets in, I lay low and wait it out. When the good times come back, I live them fully and ride the wave of happiness as long as I can. When Bipolar Betty takes over my daughter, I help her through what I can, and remind myself it is the disease, not my daughter, acting and talking. We hold on tightly, and make it through together, as a family.

This is my life. These are my burdens. Don’t be jealous of me, and I won’t be jealous of  you.

 

Life Goes On June 1, 2013

TRIGGER WARNINGS

She refused to do anything about the rape. After that day, she didn’t want to talk about it. J is  much like me in her ability to bury things deep inside. It kills me to see her do that, because I know what burying secrets does to you. The secrets come out at night and haunt your dreams. They creep up randomly in the middle of the day and make you unable to breathe. Secrets that you keep buried eat away at your soul, swallowing it bit by bit. Trust me, I know.

But burying secrets is a way to survive and keep living. It is a coping skill; a bad one, but a coping skill nonetheless. I was once gang raped by a group of guys who I thought were my friends. I was drunk and high on drugs, so the next morning I buried it away. After all, I put myself in that position. It was my fault. Those were the thoughts I had at the time, so I pretended it didn’t happen. Even when I saw them later in the week, I pretended nothing was different. Inside, I felt dead. I continued doing drugs and drinking heavily for a few more years. I attempted suicide several times. When I wasn’t attempting suicide, I lived as recklessly as I could. Dying seemed better than living.  I was in a bad place for a long time. It was years before I could grieve and even admit to myself that I was raped.

I worry so much about J. She carries so many wounds and she is not tough like I am. She feels every little jab deep in her heart. She is so trusting, yet she keeps getting hurt. J is a good, loyal person with a heart of gold.  She trusted that when she said no, he would listen. It wasn’t a playful, ambiguous no. She was crying. She meant it.

My anger is still boiling. She begged me not to tell anyone, not even her dad or sister. So I have another secret that I must carry, because when I make a promise I keep it. I do not know what will happen if I run into him somewhere. In this small town, it is bound to happen. I know where he works. I could easily find out where he lives. I lay in bed at night and dream up scenarios of what I would do to  him if I could. I will not share with you what my twisted mind concocts because it frightens me to think I can even  dream of such terrible things. But she is my baby, no matter her age. She is handicapped mentally and he took advantage of that. To me, that is more inhumane than the horrors my mind creates.

I am here, drinking my coffee and beginning my day. J spent the night with a friend and is planning her best friend’s wedding. The birds are chirping and the sun is rising. Life goes on.

 

No Means No May 27, 2013

She was raped. That son of a bitch raped her last night. I am boiling with fury and probably shouldn’t be allowed to blog right now but I have to let it out somehow or I will hunt him down and cut off his dick. If you are offended by my language then please don’t read this post. I am seriously trying to keep from going after him. I do not need to go to jail, because then who would she have? Her dad, who lives in la-la land? Or her sister, who gets angry every time J’s bipolar/anxiety prevents her from being “normal”?

I have always joked that if someone raped either of my daughters I would take him in a house and nail his dick to the windowsill. I would then set the house on fire and hand him a knife and tell him, “You get to choose. My daughter did not.” I thought I was joking. Now I know I was not. I want to inflict terrible pain on him. I want to see him beg for mercy. How could that son of a bitch do that to her? She is already so fragile….years of work probably undone because he wanted to get off.

To think, this was a “nice boy” whom I knew and LIKED!!! It wasn’t one of the losers she found on the dating sites (nothing against dating sites, but J is known for picking losers and it never turns out well); this was a “local” guy who seemed very earnest and straight-forward. My heart is broken for her. She will not press charges because they will never stick. And I agree; they will not stick.

J told him no. Forcefully. Repeatedly. But she did not fight. She did not scream for help. She kept saying no and crying but did not stop him. My guess is because of her incredibly low self-esteem she just let him finish. She was so hurt and confused when she told me. My poor baby.

No means no.

 

 

 

Sunday Morning Update on the Family May 26, 2013

Happy Sunday morning! It is early morning here as I sit on the porch and drink my second cup of coffee. It’s a “linger and take small sips” kinda morning. The sun is shining but there is a cool crispness in the air. I hear the crow of the neighborhood rooster in the distance. He seems to insist for you to get up and start the day. A morning dove calls her lonely song out and other birds chirp “good mornings”.

I love that it is never quiet in the early morning hours. The sounds of nature put me at ease.

I haven’t done an update on my life in a while, so….

I’ve dealt with much anxiety in the past month, mostly over things of my own doing. <Heavy sigh.> Will I ever be able to stop making my own life hard? On a better note, school is out in 2 weeks and I will be home for a little while. I’m excited to have time to get a few things done for me. I’m no longer waiting for Hubs to do things, because it never happens. So, I will do it myself.

I’m not a church goer, so I will spend my day doing all those things that don’t get done during the workweek. Also, I don’t think I shared some wonderful news: my daughter S and her partner E just bought a house! It’s a cute old  house in the historic section of town. We are busy helping them move this weekend. It fills my heart with joy to see her so happy taking this step. To think she is only 24! She is so traditional in everything she does (except of course she happens to be gay.) I hope the wanderlust that plagues me never gets into her heart.

I also have exciting news about J (my daughter who has an eating disorder, bipolar, and anxiety issues). SHE STARTED BACK TO COLLAGE! She took the steps she needed to do to get financial aid and sign up for the courses she needs. The classes are online and she started this week. She has made an “A” on every assignment so far! I am so proud of her for doing this. She’s dealt with some strong anxiety in the process, but she did it.

My heart is full of pride and happiness for both of my girls.

 

 

I Saw A Moment in Life April 7, 2013

I saw a small child unknowingly

drop a beloved stuffed dog

as his mother pushed the stroller

hurriedly, distractedly,

throughout the store.

I saw an elderly man

grunting, with great effort,

stoop to retrieve the ragged mutt

calling out in a deep, trembling voice

unheard and overlooked.

I saw the elderly gentleman

clutching the symbol of comfort

lurching with a slow

and painful gait,

follow the sound of crying.

I saw the distraught mother

desperately searching for a beloved toy

maternally knowing the significance

of the ‘Made in China’  item

to her much-loved child.

I saw the old man gasping for breath

quietly reach out a shaking hand

silencing the child with the gift

the mother’s face filling with relief

as her child felt safe once more.

I saw time stand still

and as a small incident in life

unfolded before me, I realized

there is a goodness in all

the little moments of life.

 

Gypsy Vs. Small Town Me March 30, 2013

I am so restless. I itch to make things happen, and yet I do nothing. Is it because I am scared? Is it because I am just a lazy dreamer? Is it because I don’t know how to start? I don’t really know.

Am I destined to live my life with this restless spirit, or is there some way I can live this life I have and satisfy my desire to wander? It is like I am two people in one: one reliable person who is the wife and mother living in Small Town, USA. This person baked cookies, made homemade jelly, coached softball, and taught all the neighborhood kids how to create awesome science projects. She desired a house with a big yard and traditional furnishings. She is the good wife, daughter, and mother. The other person inside of me is a gypsy. She doesn’t care about social norms; she lives by her own set of rules. She believes in the spiritual goodness found in nature. Her one desire is to wander the earth to see all there is to see. Her life is found in a traveling caravan. She creates beautiful things just for the sake of beauty.

I know we all have different parts of our personalities, but mine seem to be constantly waging war with one another because they are polar opposites. The older I get, the more Gypsy me tries to take over. It’s like I have been what society expects me to be for as long as I could, and now I feel restless and rebellious to let the ‘real’ me take over. I want to see things, do things, have experiences that Small Town me could never do. Some times I am disgusted by what I allowed myself to become, because it is not the me I hold in my heart.

So, do I just walk away from this life? How do you walk away from a family that  you love? YOU DON’T! So how do you find a peaceful way to allow the Gypsy me to be satisfied without harming the people and life I led? I feel selfish just THINKING these thoughts; I lived my life putting my family before me. I have much to be thankful for; please know I am not complaining nor do I take what I have for granted. I just know this restlessness is not going away…it is growing stronger day by day.

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A Reason to Put on a Bra February 24, 2013

Damn. I have to go out today, so I must put on real pants. And a bra. AND SHOES! Oh, well. It’s for a great reason. My youngest daughter, S (not the one with bipolar) and her life partner, E, are buying a house.

S is only 24 years old and she is buying a house! That is pretty incredible to me. She has always been one to go after what she wants. In school, she was driven to get terrific grades and take all the hardest classes. She graduated in the top 10% of her class, but still managed to play sports and maintain a good relationship with her group of friends. The one thing she did not do is have a boyfriend or girlfriend. She always said she was too busy to date, and that the boys were too immature. After high school, she went away to college for a year and hated it. S never got into partying and chasing boys, so she didn’t fit in. She toughed it out for a year then came home to attend community college. She graduated with a degree in the health field and makes more money than I do!

During this time, S worked a part-time job and lived with a roommate in a small house nearby. She came to me one day and, with tears in her eyes, told me she was bisexual. My sweet girl was worried about telling us, but I think I knew before she did! It wasn’t long after that when she met E.

Our state does not recognize same-sex marriages, but they have exchanged rings and consider themselves married. Now, here we are, about to see the house they want to buy.

Life is funny, you know? You can dream and imagine what you think you want in life, or how you think your life might be, but seldom will you be right. I never thought I would be the mother to two incredible girls who grew to be such wonderful, yet diverse, women. One battles daily hardships that would make most people crumble, and yet she forges on. The other sees what she wants in life and goes for it, against all odds.

It’s a great feeling to know that I, with all the baggage and problems I have, still managed to raise and mold such terrific humans. There might be hope, after all. And I guess that is a good reason to put on a bra and even shoes.