clickmom

nothing or end

I started therapy again. 

I did because this therapist came with a personal recommendation and get this: he specializes in trauma. Trauma? My constant companion? Uh..... Holy cow, I think about all of the time on the couch I could have saved if I had realized there were therapists who specialize in trauma. How did I not know? Or, maybe the question is how did I not know that a therapist who specialized in trauma was the most obvious thing I needed? 

Anyways, this guy has a whole method worked out and it means that there is no option to ramble on and not actually address what needs to be addressed. Gulp. Scary. I had to take a moment the other day, after a session and really think about how difficult it is going to be for me to let go of all the behaviors that I have which serve a purpose, but aren't working for me in the present. Like shoving food in my mouth every time I have a feeling. How did I end up so uncomfortable with just having every day normal feelings? Oh, I know. I was told, as a child that I wasn't allowed to have any feelings.  Duh. Yeah. When I was sad or upset I was called Sarah Bernhardt.  My mother had the limp wrist on the forehead move down. Nothing like humiliating your kids! I definitely wasn't allowed to be angry. And I'd be wealthy if I could have a nickel for very time my mother told me that I had to take a backseat to my sister because I was ok and she wasn't. What?!? 

I wish my kids knew how different I was from what I came from. I feel like I need a bit of validation in that area.

So, here I am , finally in what looks like the right position to really do some positive work on my childhood trauma and I am kind of, actually, quite, apprehensive about letting go of the crutches that have kept me going through all the muck I have crawled through. But, then I think, I shouldn't have to crawl through muck, now or in the past, and maybe if I really open myself up this process I can live a muck-less life! I mean, there are bound to be areas of filth here and there but maybe, if I can really use the tools this new therapist is offering I can pull on some boots and match through the filth and keep going, without letting it bring me to my knees. Or maybe the muck just gets less deep. Or you know, I am not kidding myself into thinking life doesn't have a curve ball here or there ready to throw at me, history shows me that life is full of curve balls, maybe, just maybe they don't have to hit me right in the gut and instead I can leap out of the way. I don't know. Something like that.

I am afraid of change even though this is a change I have stated I want and have gone through the motions of creating. Right now I am invested in making that change real and to be frank with you, I desperately want to cling to the the ways I am actively saying I want to let go. If I can't bury every feeling I have in food down my mouth then, what do I do with the feelings? I can't even imagine feeling the feelings. Acknowledging the feelings? What would happen if I acknowledge the feelings? Part of me thinks nothing and part of me thinks the world will end. 

Breathe ......breathe ............breathe.

friends

I watching one of those television medium shows and the medium said that when you dream about people they're actually visiting you and letting you know they're still with you. I find this thought completely comforting and would like it to be true, so I asked out loud for anyone ( I feel like I've got a parade up in heaven I'd like to hear from) who was with me to show up in my dreams.

Then I went to bed and completely forgot about it. The following night, however, I dreamed of my friend Bob, who passed in 2014. In my dream, my dear friend came to me, with long silver streaked braided hair a la Bo Derek in 10 circa 1979, only longer, like down to his waist with the braids form the front tied into a know behind his head, which seemed relevant and deep dream level meaningful somehow even though I had never known Bob to have hair any longer than maybe 4 inches back in the 80's when guys had big puffs of hair on the top. Also, for most of the time I could actively see Bob he still had beautiful black hair, and only went gray in the last decade when he was LA and I only saw him in person once. But his hair was jaw dropping gorgeous and that felt important. In the dream I was a bit confused and was trying to understand how Bob had hurt Josh (I know! That never would have happened in real life) and it was bothering me, but then once I was awake and struggling to figure out what the meaning was behind what I had been dreaming, I came to the conclusion that Bob had not hurt Josh, but was saying that he was sorry he couldn't be here to help Josh and was going to be here spiritually to give strength to Josh during bad the times, when Josh was hurting. This made infinitely more sense and just sat better with me. 

I miss my friend. I even miss the parts of him that were kind of scary. He knew a sadness that went to depths I haven't visited.

One friend, I am so grateful I don't have to miss is Pal, who is doing well despite being a widower for over a year now. I spoke within today and he was just so happy and positive, as he has been about almost everything along the way, and good things are coming his way, and he is even trying to get me pulled into his world of happiness, photographically, which I completely appreciate and want to be a part of like nobodies business and am trying very hard not to get my hopes up about. FINGERS CROSSED!!

This morning I was talking to a sweet old guy at the dog park today. He’s an old Italian guy, in his 80’s, always talks about mushrooms and gardening with anyone who will listen. I adore this guy. More than some of my peers who don't seem to have patience for older folks. I actually followed him back to his house because he gave me some arugula seeds that I plan on planting today and he was talking about his neighbors who are a gay couple. (Their house was immaculate) I told him that I would love to live next to a gay couple and that my best friend in the world is gay. I told him my sister is gay and that I think she is a fantastic human being. And then, he took a hard swallow and shared with me that his brother is gay. I suspect that it was the first time he told anyone that. I was so happy for him, I told him I didn't know he had a brother and that he should bring him to the dog park. We talked about things other than being gay because in the end, it's the other things about you that make you who you are, gay is just a tiny piece of the puzzle and I am really hoping that having shred this with me, seeing that there is no shock or shame involved helped this old guy know that his brother is way more than his sexuality. It was a very sweet moment. 

you know, you never know

I surprised myself again today. I stopped in the woods, passing someone on the trail. I was wearing my crazy mosquito defense long pants, long sleeves, double shirt, hat with netting outfit and sweating bullets, when I crossed paths with a woman holding a portable fan up to her face. She explained (from a socially distant distance) to me that the little electric fan was for mosquitoes I gestured to my own get up. and she asked if the netting on the hat worked and where she could get one for herself. As I was telling her another woman came down the path wearing a hat with netting on it. Turns out, the other woman bumped into me years ago and was inspired by my get up.

So, the netted woman and I walked off in the same direction, and this is where the words that came out my mouth will make me look like the nicest most thoughtful person in the world. Believe me, the words that came out of my mouth shocked me.

We started walking together and I didn't want to be that close to a stranger without a mask and I really wanted to put my mask on, so I slid it out of my bag and without a second of forethought or planning I said "I'm gonna wear this. I think I'm healthy, I feel fine but, you know, you never know." (She thanked me and put hers on too)

We walked and chatted until we got to the end of the path, we formally introduced ourselves, I headed right towards the car, and she went left, and I just marveled that in an uncomfortable situation (hello, 2020) I didn't say "I don't trust you" or You seem nice but I don't know where you've been", or any number of feelings I might have had. What came out of my mouth without even thinking about it was the equivalent to "I don't actually know if I'm ok, so I will be considerate of you." 

no exhaling

I'm in a "holding my breathe" moment.  They happen every few months. The husband has been falling once a day for the past few days. Once it was 1/2 an hour after I had passed out for the night and poor Josh took care of  him and then came back upstairs and woke me up so I could handle the resolve of the situation. Poor Josh, right?

It gets worse. Yesterday, I was out in the woods with sweet pea around 10 o'clock in the morning and Josh called to tell me that the husband had fallen again.  The mornings are usually the safest time for me to leave the house. Typically he doesn't get out of bed before noon. I felt really bad for not being there, but I also didn't rush back because the husband refuses help, so here was basically nothing I could do. I did lecture him on using the precautions he is supposed to be using and isn't. In this situation I just have no control and no influence. Basically I am just an observer 98% of the time and a chauffeur/cook the rest of the time. 

I did call the husband's doctor, who started talking about getting an aide, nursing home, etc... All the things that the husband would scream eternally if I even brought it up. I told the doctor, look, I know that physically he is there, but mentally he isn't anywhere close to accepting help from anyone except me. And, nothing like that is even on the table during a pandemic so I was just basically just calling to let him know as a courtesy.

The husband thinks he may have broken a rib on that late night fall. He also hit his head on that early morning fall. One day he is going to have the fall he is going to have that fall that's so wrong that there won't be any coming back. Like I said, I'm holding my breathe.

 

 

lost

I'm still in mourning over the loss of utopia but I really don't feel like I can share that with anyone. I mean, I still contend it had everything to do with the place- the land and nothing to do with the god forsaken frigging hotel sized house the husband ruined it with. Yes, I am still bitter knowing that if he had stuck even remotely close to our original budget we would likely own it outright and I would be sitting on that porch right now complaining about how red the town is and how ridiculously high the property taxes are. But, I'm not. I'm here in the hellscape of new town, which is 9 years old town already, and instead of watching the sun go down over the over the dam ad still evening waters, waiting for a heron or eagle to fly by from the safety of my bug free screened in porch and listening to the water lapping up against the shore I can sit outside and wonder what the weird smell is and listen to the idiots driving 45 mph down our 25 mph street. 

That's not why I sat down to write. What I sat down to write is that there is one time of the day when the wound of selling utopia opens a bit for me. It happens if I am outside right before sunset, that time when the sun is so low it only shines on the top of the trees. That was the time I often found myself in the outdoor shower up at utopia, my absolute treat and favorite part of the summer. I'd stand in the outdoor shower with the hot water steaming on me, and look up at the pale blue sky and watch distant airplanes flying so high over head that I couldn't hear them, but they'd be bathed in light from the sun and look white and gleaming as they silently sliced through the sky. Here I can see the same things when I look up at the same time. It's weird. But I'm not in an outdoor shower, and when I look back down I see the crooked ugly plastic fence my nasty neighbor DYI put up in what can only be described as a bold attempt to lower his property value.  

I almost choked and fell to the floor when Evan visited last and I overheard the husband telling him that we'd probably move to a condo somewhere after new town. I was shocked. Putting me in a condo is akin to denying me the ability to breathe.  That's not going to happen. I had to remind the husband that he isn't going anywhere because I'm not replacing all 18 of his medical specialists who have been following him for up to 12 years by now. There isn't a chance I'm starting that process over. He's dying here. Then I will get to go wherever I want for myself- and it will not be a condo. I very desperately want to live somewhere with a breathtaking view. I don't know where that place might be, but when I find it it'll be just what I was looking for.

 

decent

 

So, the news about everything is so freaking disgusting these days, and I can hardly bare to read or hear how awful people are to other people. I heard myself saying out loud over and over how I would be nice if I were walking my dog off leash in a part of central park where I wasn't allowed to and asked to leash her up.  But, there was always this little voice in the back of my head asking me if I was sure. I mean, I do feel like some rules are bendable, so I'm not always the most law abiding citizen. I conceded that I thought I'd be nice about it but one never knows until they're in the situation. 

Then came yesterday, I was walking sweet pea and the dog who walks himself in the woods, and we went down a trail that dead ends behind a local elementary school. Normally I only go there on the weekends, but hey, it's summer! school's out for the summer. Once one reached the end of the trail one could turn around and backtrack, or one could dash behind the school and run to another trail which also dead ends behind the school, and that is precisely what I was doing, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a rear door of the school swinging, and I stopped and wondered if I should call someone to tell them that the school door is open, and then I saw a brown arm come out of the door and it was a security guard, who said to me, "You can't be here, summer school is in session." To which I replied "I didn't know! I am so sorry! I'll go straight back into the woods" and I called the dogs over and rushed back into the woods. As I walked away from the school I realized that I now could say with absolutely certainty that if I was walking my dog off leash in an area where I wasn't supposed to and got called out on it I would be a decent human being about it. 

avoiding

I'm pretty sure there is a story I wanted to share about walking sweet pea along with the dog who walks himself (irresponsible owners who live across the street from the woods and let the dog roam free) but I can't for the life of me recall what the story was.  Even though whatever it is I wanted to share just happened to me.

I really started going back to the woods, which feels freaking fantastic. I avoid my old walking buddies because they don't wear masks (one is a dental hygienist, so I feel like its just a matter of time before she gets hit with the virus) so I was actually happy to see the dog who walks himself. It's so much better for sweet pea to have someone to pal around with. They really do pay attention to what the other one is doing. Together they cornered a groundhog the other day and it was quite the ruckus when the dog who walks himself shook it to death. I knew it was finally dead when I couldn't hear the ground hog screaming over my unheeded commands to drop it. (In my defense, it's not my dog, sweet pea dropped a chipmunk once on command, and I was pretty much the one who taught the dog to sit) Thankfully once the ground hog stopped moving the dog who walks himself did put it down and walk away without tearing into it, so at least there was no blood involved. 

Now that I am parking on the street where the dog who walks himself lives, I enter the park/woods on the opposite side from where I typically enter. I am not far, from the outermost path around the grounds, which is where I like to go anyway because less people make the effort to go there, it's hilly, which means down and up and also you have to cross a small stream to get there and folks do not like their dogs getting wet. So, I've been heading straight towards the less populated area and on the fringe of the woods, across the stream, is a small little section of park that had a ton of beech trees. Beech trees are the smooth gray trees people favor for carving their names into. I noticed that the leaves of these trees were doing strange things.  They have dark stripes between the veins, are sometimes very thick and dark looking or curled up and browning. It's quite remarkable, how discomforting the woods feels over where the trees look strange. I asked a friend to check it out and she told me that there is some kind of unknown pathogen attacking beech trees and because the origin of the pathogen is unknown there isn't anything we know to do to help the trees. You guys, the trees have their own version of corona. I can not believe I left for a few months and came back to a tree plague.

Guess what I am going to try to photograph for the rest of the summer! Yup, the last breaths of the beech trees. I am pretty sad about this. I loved looking those trees, especially in the winter because they'd keep a lot of their leaves and the leaves would be a light tan color. They were so pretty. I wish I photographed them more. We might not have them around if this thing has its way with all of them. There is a chance that some trees will be immune to the pathogen, so that is what I am holding out hope for. 

In the mean while, we continue to hide, minus walking sweet pea, and I am so very conflicted about walking sweet pea. I mean, I don't wanna die yet so I don't wanna know how bad corona is. I feel no need to be a survivor, I'd rather be a dodger. I am very concerned about the long term effects of this virus, and want no part of it at all.  I am also so worried that Josh's school might try to do something on campus in the fall and that will not be acceptable to me. I already told him that there isn't a chance in hell it will be safe for students to return to campus in the fall and that I won't send him. Especially if there are life long consequences to having lived through this virus. No 19 year old deserves to have neurological damage or vascular problems for the rest of their lives when it could have been avoided in the first place. This is a no brainer.