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I Guess He is Alive May 21, 2008

Posted by only4now in Depression, doubts, Pain.

I pick up my phone and check the date that he called me last:Febuary 03 at 9:28pm. He seemed to be in a fairly good mood… But he chastised me for not calling him for so long. He told me that I had let him down. It sounded like he was ribbing me. I must have missed the pain he was feeling.

Since then, I have tried numerous times to call him and he lets it roll to his voice mail…

It is not that I purposesly waited to call him before. I had to make myself set the phone down on many occasions. I felt like I was smothering him. No grown child needs to hear from his Mom all the time.

He was supposed to come visit in February. He was supposed to come live with me in March…. But, he no longer takes my calls. He no longer answers my emails…

I want him to know that I love and miss him so much that my heart is ripping from me…

I need him to know how important he is to me… How much his happiness means to me…

I don’t care if he lives here. Did I pressure him too much to move home? Is he still suffering from the nightmares of his past?

I would give EVERYTHING to go back and erase the things that have hurt him so deeply.

But for now, I will continue to see that he has opened my emails… and I will know he is alive.

…And I will keep it together… Just in case one day he needs me again.

I am here… February 19, 2008

Posted by only4now in alive, Depression, doubts, Optimism.

Sort of… at least I think I am here. I am a bit fuzzy. Week two back on my meds. That is a good thing. I was spiralling out of control and refusing to help myself.

The harder I tried to laugh on the outside and joke with people, the more I cried on the inside.

Anyway, I am levelling off, I think. Personally, I feel 150mg of Effexor is too strong for me.

 But, I am giving it another shot.

Emotional Vacations January 28, 2008

Posted by only4now in Depression, doubts, Senseless acts.

I took a vacation from reality it seems. It was a decision to shut out everything and everyone for fear of falling any deeper.

 I must apologize to PA (I will stop by your blog and do that there as well) Yes, I was sending out an SOS of sorts to you. But, when you responded, I was too far gone. I no longer had the will to try… I could not read or post.

Only yesterday did I start to come out of this one. I know I need to go back to the doctor. My episodes are coming more frequently and are progressively darker. The only good to come of it, is I am now learning to recognize some of the triggers.

My last post was… deep, but just the edge of the canyon in which I fell. Friday I was a complete wreck and had absolutely no business outside of my home. I was overcome with fits of paranoia, despair, depression, anger, (even to the point of feeling hatred)

Let me try and describe my actions:

I flipped off my neighbor but I am not sure if he saw me do it. My husband was shocked and asked what that was all about. (I next to never show anything but a smile to those around me) I responded, “He is a piece of shit and I am tired of pretending otherwise.”

While it is true that he is a thief, and I detest him. I would never, in a normal semblance of mindset, shown such emotional anger.

I refuse to talk with a cousin who would like to go into business with me.   I have decided that we can not work together because I do not approve of the way she treats (uses) her boyfriend.

Again, this is not like me. I do not make a practice of judging others in their relationships.

I broke down in the hardware store. I was upset that the self-scanning register kept giving me a error message. The third time the error message came up, I lost it. The lady was sweet to me. I know she could see that I was totally out of it. She began rubbing my shoulder and telling me it was OK, while I blabbered that I chose the self-scan register because I didn’t want to talk with anyone today. Now I have to talk to people and I don’t want to talk to people.

She told me, “Baby, stand right here beside me and let me take care of it for you.”

I just wanted to leave the store… She insisted I stay there and she continued to calm me down with her soothing prattle. Stepping out into the cool air, I regained some composer.

But, I still had no business outside of the house. The office was closed down for the day and I decided I would go in and work by myself for awhile. Pulling into the parking lot, I flew into a rage because a coworker was already there. I was furious that he was there when I needed to be alone.

I turned around and went to the grocery store. I wandered up and down the aisles for a couple hours. Only putting a few things in my cart. It was pretty much a blur. I did strike up a silly conversation with the Miller Lite Girls. They gave me a prize for knowing a trivia question. I felt sorry for them. Stuck in the back of the store, stopping people to ask them questions about football trivia. People were trying to avoid being stopped. So, I walked right up to them and offered a friendly face. I am now the recipient of a silly plastic watch. But, it made me feel good to see them smile.

I then maneuvered thru traffic which seemed to be grinding to a halt. NO… I simply could not deal with a traffic nightmare in my current mindset. I was drowning. How do I even begin to explain how something so innocent could push me completely out of my mind for a while?

I cut thru a large parking lot, desperate to get home, desperate to not feel trapped. Standing between me and clear roads was a group of teenage boys. They were right in the center of the drive-thru area.

In a clear-state of mind I would have tapped on the horn or even waited patiently for them to notice that I needed to get past them.

However, I am ashamed to say that I did not do either. I placed one foot on the brake and the other on the gas and revved my engine. My car lurched forward a couple feet and they jumped out of the way rather quickly. Some darting to the left, some to the right. However one young man, looking rather panicked, just stared at me with his eyes open wide.

I remember feeling rage and throwing my hands in the air in exasperation. “Right or Left!” I screamed (but, I don’t think the words came out of my mouth.)

He stepped out of the way and I sped off, like I was fleeing a tornado. I made it home without killing anyone or myself and layed on the kitchen floor and sobbed. I was totally drained, emotionally and physically. Although it was never my intention, I could have killed someone.

That scares the crap out of me.  

Trust January 15, 2008

Posted by only4now in abuse, betrayal, Depression, doubts, lies, spousal abuse, Trust.

Today is a very low day for me. I don’t even know what to say, or how to put it in words.

My husband is lying to me. I know it and I believe he knows that I know… and it is going to be ugly tonight when I go home. I have a couple choices to make.

1.) I can confront him and let him “explain” his actions and lies. He will then proceed to twist this all around and make me the bad person. He will bring up anything and everything that he has ever thought I have done wrong. (mostly imaginary stuff that he saves for repeated arguments) You know, that I have cheated on him, which is a complete lie. Or, that I have been spending money behind his back, again a complete lie.

He will accuse me of looking at the neighbor in a provocative manner. He will bring up a guy I was dating years ago when the two of us first met. He will accuse me of sleeping with co-workers.

Basically, when he is thru trashing me, I will want to die. At this point it is not much of a push to bring me to that point anyway. As it now stands, I am not self harming directly… What I am doing instead is making myself available to harm by others. I have stopped locking the office building when I am here by myself. I no longer lock my car doors or even wear a seat belt. The house is basically left wide open.

I purposely antagonise people who piss me off hoping one of them will just ‘do something.’

Fuck, I just don’t care.

Back to my husband…

My other choice is to put my crappy fake smile on and again ACT like everything is ok. Pretend that I am oblivious to his lies and wait for another manic wave to lift me out of the shit hole in which I am now dwelling.  

I don’t drink often… but, tonight I am going home and getting plowed

Ha, I just looked at the title that I picked and realized that I was going to write about something completely different.

I suppose I could add: I don’t trust him! (now the title does not need to be changed)

Protective Coating January 2, 2008

Posted by only4now in abuse, betrayal, Depression, doubts, Pain, spousal abuse, Trust.
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He scratched thru the layers of protective coating in which I surround myself. The protective coating which stops me from feeling the pain and vulnerability.

So many times I have been hurt, that I developed a special shell to block out the pain. In so doing, I have become numb to many feelings. But, it makes it so much easier to put on the false smile and say, “Yes Sir” “No Sir” What can I do for you?”

Very rote, but very safe.  I am no longer me, but I am no longer in pain.


Ya win some, ya lose some.

Well… Monday night he scratched thru the layers leaving me so very vulnerable. Let me retrace and see if any of this makes sense in writing.

A few years back I made a mistake. Innocent thinking on my part, but no excuse to him. His younger brother had been over the day before and left a few things at our house. On this day, Jeff was at work and I was home by myself, cleaning… basically puttering around, kind of a lazy day. His brother knocked on the door and asked to come in and get his things. This seemed innocent enough to me. Growing up, our home had an open door policy. Friends, family and neighbors came and went at will. We were very trusting.

Anyway, his brother got his things and left. I went back to cleaning, thinking nothing of the event. That evening when my hubby came home, he walked right up to me and punched me in the face. He then proceeded to beat me, while cursing me for being a slut. I remember begging him to stop, and then begging God to let me die.

The next morning he told me that if I ever let another man into our home again he would kill me. Later he told me that his brother said I answered the door in a sexy nightie and ‘came on’ to him.

I think the pain of him believing his brother over me was worse than the black eye and bruised ribs.  

Trust is a major part of my life. I have learned to trust no one fully. I trust different people on different levels. And my Dad is the closest I will ever come to full trust. However, I am afraid to open up to him and have him think less of me. Crazy web I am tangled in.

Back to my brother-in-law ~ That was the first time in which he lied and I paid the price. On the second occasion, he stole something from my husband’s truck. Jeff was giving him a ride home and stopped for gas. When Jeff was inside paying, his brother removed the item from the glove compartment.

A couple days later my hubby asked if I had seen the missing item. Immediately I thought of his no-good brother and asked if he might have taken it. Jeff asked his brother, who promptly told him that I had given him the item. Without allowing me to defend the lie, Jeff came home and knocked me silly. This time I stood my ground and insisted we both go confront his brother. When asked again, with me in the same room, his brother admitted he had taken the item. Jeff then punched him and told me he would never have anything to do with his worthless brother again.

Over the next couple years I developed an intense hatred for that man. Anytime his name came up in a conversation I became ill. Slowly Jeff let him right back into his life (they are brothers after all… bs)

Fast forward to last week ~ His brother had called a couple of times, once to tell us that they had moved into our neighborhood. (SHIT) Another time to ask is he could make a few dollars washing my car. (HELL NO!) Then on New Year’s Eve he calls and talks with Jeff on the two-way radio. Hearing his actual voice made me nauseous and I got up and left the room.

The remainder of the night my emotions flipped back and forth between anger and pain. I felt like my husband had betrayed me by once again opening his arms to his brother.

Yesterday I could not take it any longer. His betrayal had broken thru the protective coating. I had to confront my husband, and ask him to at least make certain that I was not in the room when he is talking with his brother. He wanted to know why.

WHY? WHY? WHY? Why didn’t he already know the answer? Why was he making me tell him again? How could he forget?

He then told me that if my feelings were so strong against his brother, there must have been a lot more between the two of us and I needed to come clean. I became hysterical, shrieking at him. The pain was so acute that I could not stop until I was drained of energy.

This is all bizarre for me because I am very passive. I am so good about hiding my feelings. I do not crack…

Which brings me to today ~ Today I am about as low as I have felt in my life. I don’t feel suicidal. I just feel empty.

Slowly, I will repair the protective coating. Each time I rebuild my shell, it becomes thicker and tougher to penetrate. Perhaps one day, it will just be me… for I will have succeeded in forcing everyone else out.  


What is really screwed up about my thought process ~ I am full of hatred for his brother for the lies, but not mad at my husband for hitting me. I am hurt that my hubby does not trust me enough to believe me over that piece of shit. Why am I not mad at him for what he does to me? Why do I need him to believe in me? This crap is so messed up. Why does my heart break every time I think of losing him? Why do I care?

SO and other Things- 2nd try December 28, 2007

Posted by only4now in abuse, betrayal, Discipline, doubts, Music, Random thoughts, Sensory Overload, sexual abuse, Trust.
Counting flowers on the wall,
That don’t bother me at all.
Playing Solitaire till dawn,
With a deck of fifty-one.
Smoking cigarettes and watching Captain Kangaroo.
Now, don’t tell me I’ve nothing to do.

How appropriately nuts to put Pulp Fiction together with this song. My mind is zinging around like an errant ping-pong ball. My thought process is leading me from one topic matter to the next with no bridges in between.
Driving in to the office I was thinking about an email from Scott. He stated his favorite song and group. I wanted to send him back an email with my favorites… but came up empty. I love music, I really do. But, I could not think of a single song that I could call a favorite. While thinking back over the MANY Cd’s that I own, the crazy song jumped into my head. I had to laugh because it is often on the tip of my tongue. Which is odd because it has never been considered a favorite by any measure.
But I did come up with a song that I am very fond of at the moment. “The Reason” by Hoobastank. My son bought the Cd for me.I also enjoy “Right to be Wrong” by Joss Stone
I just don’t listen to music very often anymore. I suffer from periods of Sensory Overload. Many songs with repetitive lyrics and or beats drive me batty. I become so annoyed with the repetition that I am no longer listening to the song itself.
Sometimes it is a combination of outside distractions, a clutter on my desk, a book out of place, a piece of thread on the carpet… all throwing my mind into turmoil. Add to that the noise from a television or a radio and I cannot put together a concise thought.

So, unfortunately, I seldom listen to music anymore unless I have Cds playing in the background while cleaning the house.

Yesterday I was waiting in line at the Post Office. There were about 15 people in line, all chatting either on their cell phones or with others in line. The chatter was in several different languages and I almost went bonkers. I could feel a panic attack coming on. Thankfully the Post Master noticed that I was only in line to pick up a package and he waved me to the front.

I have only had a few episodes in which the overload became too much and I felt as if I were losing control. The other times were in busy restaurants. I wish I knew how to tune out the distractions. It is a scary feeling when the room begins to swim around me. The noise rising to a deafening level, but none of it making any sense.

This does not happen every time I am in loud crowded areas. Monday I was at the Chargers football game. The stadium was packed and the fans were crazed. I loved every minute of the event. I screamed and cheered along with the 68,000 in attendance, never once feeling overwhelmed.

Changing Channels: (or new topic)  My flight back from San Diego, CA to Houston, TX was 4 hours of HELL.

Before I begin, let me just say that I love children. I enjoy getting down on the floor and playing with them on their level. I take great pride in my ability to construct an awesome building block fort! My three year old nephew with his imaginary friend are two of my best buddies to hang out with. The honesty of a young child is refreshing. Rediscovering everything thru their eyes is almost like experiencing it for the first time all over again.

That being said – I was ready to hand a parachute to the four year old seated behind me and give her a gentle nudge out the window. Parents who have absolutely no control over their children should not force the rest of us to endure their crap.

I was subjected to four hours of the little chit kicking the back of my seat; a minimum of three hours of screaming tantrums, and to top it off the little ‘Princess’ pooped her pants about mid-flight.

When her mommy asked her why she did not get up and use the restroom, the young girl defiantly stated, “Because I don’t want to be here!”

Well Hell Fire, I don’t want you to be here either, but I am not going to poop my pants in protest.

Her mommy told the little ‘stinker-butt’ that she would have to just sit in ‘it’ until they landed. OMG she was going to make all of us suffer to prove a point. Lady, you and your daughter can both grab a parachute and jump.  
I so badly wanted to stand up and tell the brat to Shut the Fuck Up! I think I could have been convincing enough to shock them both into silence. Alas, I just sat silently on and endured the repeated blows to the back of my seat. 

Another Channel Change: Parenting skills … via my Dad and Step-Mom ~ I adore my Dad. He has always been my rock. He is tough with his rules, yet fair. I did get a couple well deserved swats on the butt. yet, I never once felt anything but love from Dad. He is the type of person who commands respect when he walks into a room, yet everyone welcomes him with open arms. Dad loves people and people love Dad. 

In school I pushed hard with my studies, eager to see Dad’s smile and feel his hugs for a job well done. On the weekends I would be his shadow, following him from project to project. Handing him a wrench or a screwdriver as was needed for each job. 

On cold winter mornings, Dad would pick me up from my paper route and take me out for hot cocoa and a donut. It was our special time together.

… And then there was my Step-Mom (SM). She was by no means as evil as Cinderella’s Step-Mom, but neither was there any of the love which I so badly craved. I tried for years to please her, baking bread and cookies, setting the table, ironing, mopping floors. 

But, I cannot remember her ever smiling in my direction. Perhaps she was upset with the doting love my Dad showered upon me. In years past, I have wondered if Dad gave me extra hugs because he saw Mom’s lack of contact with me… Did his extra attention backfire causing her to push even further away from me? Maybe, I was exuding a subliminal resentment that kept her at bay.

I do remember many incidents in which she left me in tears. One being when I was 11 or 12 years of age. My best friend told me that she didn’t want to be my friend any longer. (this is traumatic news for a young girl) I went into the house in tears and told Mom what had happened. She began to laugh and said “nobody likes you, everybody hates you, why don’t you go eat worms?” 

She then turned back around and continued to prepare dinner. She might as well of slapped me across the face. The end result would have been the same, only this time the pain did not leave a mark on the outside.
I also think she knew about my step-bothers molesting me.  I often wonder if that was part of the reason for her barbs. Maybe she was afraid that I was going to tell. (I often wonder why I was too afraid to speak up) 

My  SM made me a couple soft flannel night shirts that she gave me for Christmas one year. They were fantastic. So warm and soft to sleep in during the harsh winters of Northern Wyoming. However they were not as sweet to sleep in in the hot stagnant air of the summer months.

Often times in the middle of the night, I would strip off my nightie and sleep in my panties between the sheets. On a couple different nights I was awakened by my SM and spanked for being indecent. What is so indecent about a 9 year old girl sleeping without a night shirt in her own bed in her own room? In a normal family I would like to think that little girls are safe and can sleep however they choose. 

My SM told me that I was dirty and I was asking for trouble. Yes, I think she knew.

I am relieved that I no longer need her love and approval. I don’t wish her harm, nor do I wish to spend another moment in her presence. 

Too bad I cannot send out an invitation for only my Dad to come visit. My life will crumble when it is Dad’s time to pass.  Alas, I hope I go before him. (selfish I know)    

Hello God December 17, 2007

Posted by only4now in doubts, God, Random thoughts.
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“Are you really there?”

“Is it true you answer every child’s prayer?”

My sister’s daughter sang this little child’s song to me. It is beautiful.  Religion is beautiful… (for what it is worth)

Right now I am having serious doubts about the entire package. Is there a God? Have we all been duped into praying to someone who does not exist?

My parents would be crapping bunnies if they knew I was in doubt. I think their every thought and action is centered around religion. In fact they recently sold their home and left for Ghana Africa to do missionary work.

As children we were taught to pray, many times per day… upon rising, before meals, before bedtime…

Religion was always a part of our lives, yet I never developed a relationship with God. All my actions were rote as were my prayers.

And now, the more I see of life the more I doubt.

Don’t get me wrong, religion as a basis for teaching right from wrong, good versus evil, humanity, kindness, charity, humility, etc is an excellent tool.

Depending on who you listen to, God is either a loving being in which to turn when you need guidance; or he is to be feared. You follow his word to please him or because you fear his wrath.

The entire preconception of a deity strikes me in a funny way. I cannot help but think we are approaching religion in a slightly-more-advanced state than the Greeks during the periods of Zeus and Hera.

We still pray for rain, for good fortune, for victory in battle. We ask for God to spare us and when we lose a loved one we say, “It was God’s will.”

If there is a God (the verdict is still out in my mind), then I may be struck down. Because I am about to bring shame to my family and state my views.

One of my favorite quotes is by Voltaire ~ “God is a Comedian, playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”

Well, I have decided that IF there is a God, then he is a cruel SOB.

How can a loving God allow such atrocities to occur? How can a loving God not intervene when a monster tortures a child to death? How can a loving God sit idly by when a parent begs for his mercy while trying to free his daughter from a burning car?

Is it God’s will that the little girl should die in pain, screaming for her father to get her out? Is it God’s will that the child’s father see his daughter suffer?

For what?

What lesson did God teach this family? What lesson was I supposed to gather?

Was it a test to see if the family could remain strong after such adversity? (They did not…)

If it was “Her time to go.” (like so many said) Why didn’t God let her die in the impact of the wreck, or at least have her knocked unconscious. Her parents did nothing wrong. They were hit by an inattentive driver.

Why did God (if he really exists) choose to torture a child in this manner?

When I begged God to end my pain, did he hear me? Did he care? Is he even there?

Alas, the verdict is still out and may never re-adjourn.