Tuesday, March 18, 2008

upbeat, not beat up; 2003-09-12 3:32 p.m.

Tomorrow I'm going to a picnic for birth parents and adoptive parents and their kids. This is coming at a good time for me. Seeing April who is adorable and invariably happy and secure with her adoptive family is, believe it or not, a pretty rewarding experience for me. When we were at the hospital I loved watching her Mom holding her, and her whole family. Whenever I see her it's great because she's cute and happy and I have never had a moment of doubt that I did the right thing. I have not ever doubted it was the right thing to do once. I have, at times, felt profoundly grateful that I found someone else to fill her overflowing with love.

I worry that someday she will either hate or idolize me. I mean, her family are a normal, plain family. I -on the other hand, live at the vortex of drama. I know that even with the stipulations that she be able to contact me whenever she wants to, that many of her mysteries will be involving me. I hope that I'm available and present enough that she just knows that I'm human and I'll be whatever I can for her. Being removed from the everyday parenting of her will equip me to be her queen of insight like I am to so many of my friends. But I don't really have any hopes like that for the April. I've quite willingly placed whatever hopes I have on her parents.

The thing that amazes me the most about this whole journey was how blessed I felt giving this baby to this family, and how easy it all is. My faith that it was what was meant to happen was then, and is still- gigantic. That makes it not only easy, but wonderful.

So tomorrow I get to visit with the best decision I've ever made. I'm going to be proud of myself. I'm looking forward to it.

an ending; 2003-09-12 3:28 p.m.

Well, I just was told my temp job won't be permanent. Today will be my last day. This makes me really sad. I'm trying hard all things considered, not to get completely sunk by this. It wasn't challenging after all, but I liked that. I'll probably be doing updates from the job lab starting Monday.

It really sucks to be me right now.

I went down, down, down- and the flames went higher ;2003-09-12 10:41 a.m.

Things are not as bad as I am feeling they are. Today I am a rain cloud, complete with thunder. Remember the disclaimer I spoke of the other day? How I usually laugh when things get maudlin? Remember my distress status quo? Well, today I am just upset and sad.

I know there is a way out of this place and I will find it. It's just that right now I feel like I am in the middle of a giant speedway. Everything is racing around me and it won't ever stop. So even though there is part of me that knows this is going to pass- right now I can't move.

My week has been okay, in spite of the fact that I've done nothing to take care of my big problem/picture. I know I have to- that my landlord is a nice guy and he will only passive-aggressively chastise me a little. It won't even be that unbearable, except that I can't look at my immediate situation. My brain is trying to find A BIG SOLUTION. Nothing is impossible, I just can't move.

GET ON THE OTHER SIDE OF IT.

Once I get over the hum of "I can't believe I'm at this place again" I think I could get through if my circular reasoning would just stop. It's going so fast- and it begins with I have to get the Daddyman out of my life and ends with I can't get the Daddyman out of my life. It's so impossible to overlook what an emotional open target I must be. No matter who is trying to help the other it strips us bare to the bone every time. Even with a diary to speak to about these things, even with that exercise, I realize how weak I still am in spite of my awareness that something in me was (is?) growing stronger every day. I must have been wrong or I wouldn't be here again. My awareness and growing confidence was no substitution for my stupidity. You leave those flanks open and you lose what you have to stand on. I really wish rent were cheaper here. I make a fine wage. A fine wage for a single girl who lives alone. A fine wage for half of a working couple. It's screaming all around me that financially I can't do this alone. It spins all the rational thought and emotional strength out of me like a fucking salad spinner.

If this was a television fantasy I would have my revelation, blink once slowly, and be transported to the desert. "At least here there is peace." I would think. Sure is hot, though. I'd blink up at an unrelenting sun. Sure seems close. Oh well. I can get used to this at least. After all, I can always find the water I need.

But as I stand in the center of the Speedway, part of me knows that all that waits on the other side is the desert. Financial desert, emotional desert. It's bleak and dry and trying. I think part of me is staying in the terrifying middle of the mess until I can see something on the other side that is better than the desert.

If I've been picked up by a cyclone, I want more than anything not to be set back down in godforsaken Kansas!

Maybe now that Johnny Cash is in heaven he will be my personal champion up there. Maybe he can do something to make sure that my feet avoid the slippery rocks.

dramarama meter; 2003-09-09 2:31 p.m.

Here's something to think about. Everyone who thinks woman are born to doubt themselves when something bad happens to them, raise your hands.

yeah, me too. It's part of the over-analyzing everything glitch.

I am not nearly as distraught as I probably should be. Maybe I should write a disclaimer that clearly states: THIS IS NOTHING NEW. This is everyday bumps and turns. This is only an orange level of distress. Consider this the status quo.

On "As the World Turns" there is a character SUSAN who found out her new doctor/husband RICK was the HOSPITAL SERIAL KILLER. (She's a doctor herself, - a smart lady, recovering alcoholic, formerly conniving.) Her serial killer hubby RICK is in now in police custody. SUSAN's trying to come to grips with how she could have missed noticing the serial killer tendencies in her hubby. She ran out of her house and her daughters EMILY and ALISON(Susan is late 40's early 50's- with a 35 and 18 yr old daughters-realistic...) were worried SUSAN went to have a drink. Turns out she was looking for an AA meeting. She didn't go because she wasn't sure how she was supposed to say "Hello, I'm SUSAN. I'm an alcoholic who unwittingly married a psycho serial killer...!?"

That sentence seems pretty normal to me. A regular level of bizarre. The drama status quo.

Another long time complaint of the Daddyman is my interest in that soap opera. (AS THE WORLD TURNS) I recently pointed out that while I choose to watch a soap opera for entertainment. He chooses to live the soap opera.

I want a time out;2003-09-08 2:39 p.m.

I'm distracted and stressed out about money. I need to tell my landlord what money I can give him for rent now, and when he'll get the rest, but I find myself unable to make that call. I am a disappointment, and I'm in disappointment mode. I really wish I could just put on some kind of grown up costume and play the part, but apparently I can't.

I have a theory as to why this is happening though. I am letting it happen so someone will have to rescue me and maybe I will finally, just finally decide that my only option for survival is to cut the Daddyman out of my life completely once and for all. Have catastrophe be the deciding factor.

I have to realize that this hasn't worked before. One thing my mother said about my parents' decision to not help or be able to see me anymore until I got help was that she hoped that "He would finally step up to the plate and help his family." I found that odd then, and I find it odd now.

My mother's dearest wish is that the Daddyman no longer factors into my life at all. Yet my parents acted in a way (see my post titled "Baby Sister") that forced him to be the one loyal person I had. So now that I am working again, I still have this misplaced sense of obligation that I need to care for and nurture this person who, realistically, has done nothing except make my life more complicated. Because did the Daddyman step up to the plate and help his family? He did try. He tried to until his life became so dramatic that we had to take a backseat.

Here's another interesting question to pose, true believers-

Does LAP want to create chaos and catastrophe so she has no other choice but to move in with the Daddyman?

I'm a little worried that part of me wants that. As to why that might be, I can't say, other than I am lazy and want to spend my money hither and yon rather than using it to be a grown up mommylap in a grown up mommylap costume. I am no longer deluding myself that my sexual connection with my ex hints at some greater life for us both if only he could make some emotional breakthrough. I know that I really believe that whatever I might get from him is not worth what it costs me. It costs me too much just to understand him.

2003-09-05, 3:13 p.m.

About that $$$=happiness glitch. The Daddyman would always even say that if we had money -we'd have nothing to argue about. Most of our arguments have been verbally concerning money, but that's not what they were really about.

I have really let go of the money thing as much as I can. Whenever there is money around -if there is any unhappiness or drama going on (and there always is) is just gets spent. I don't even know how responsible I will have to become before this all stops. Honestly I don't think it ever will stop. It seems ridiculous to know that working full time at $12/hr is not enough to really take care of a family of three with debt. If the Daddyman could reliably pay me the $400/month he's supposed to -my life might financially work. However the Daddyman is nobody to depend on financially. But money is nothing you can depend on either. Mostly it seems like you can depend on trouble and bad luck in this life more than anything else. It's a good thing that I was enlightened to the fact that life is not fair at an early age.

I've had plenty of time to get used to the idea, before I really got to experience the unfairness to its full potential.

brief aside: I want to note for you, that I am feeling quite upbeat as I enter this. I worry that you worry as you read that I am typing with one hand and flagellating with the other. I am not. (for those of you who are not familiar with that term, please hit the link. It might suprise you that the term has nothing to do with masturbation.)

not me; 2003-09-03 12:42 p.m.

There's been a pitch. Not an official offer, mind you, but a pitch.

What if the Daddyman takes the open 2-bedroom apartment in his new building and the girls and I move in with him?

This would mean rent only costing $300/month. And getting to live in a neighborhood I adore.

But with the Daddyman.

We've tried this before. It didn't work. That was in the days when we pretended that his use of crack cocaine was social and controllable. I only considered it to be a concern at that time. Of course, I had no idea.

My mother thoughtfully pointed out that neither the Daddyman nor I are any 'farther along in our lives' than we were 10 years ago. Wasn't that thoughtful? What this made me realize was how completely unimportant that still is to me. All I care about really, is survival. I believe that even as a parent that just a small amount of security is even too much for me to hope for. I really think what's most important is working on meeting responsibilities, love, and support. I wish there was more room to make mistakes, but isn't it better for them to know that financially- there isn't?

I told him (who wasn't actually even making an offer, but did I realize that us living together was something that both girls wanted? That both girls came to him individually to wish?) that I couldn't just move my mess and hope it would get better. If I can't make my life work where I am right now than I have to keep trying until I can. That means that I have to strive for an apartment with every room essentially clean. Bills taken care of. Rent paid on time. Then I can reassess.

What I learned the last time we thought free rent might help us "get back on our feet" was that no amount of money will ever be able to compensate for unhappiness.

I used to assume that my unhappiness grew from his unhappiness. Whereas there is essential truth to that idea, the real truth is much larger. The Daddyman doesn't make me happy.

Although our sexual connection-that passion was so large and unreal and true, he will never love me the way I have always dreamed of being loved. He will never see me as who I believe I am- and not because I'm not that person after all. There are things about me that are SO great that he is apparently blind to. He has never, and will never start a sentence to me with the words-"That's what's so great about you,..." He has always only cherished the way he has looked in my eyes.

I think this pitch is because he feels that he will never be able to escape me- because I am the mother of his children. I would guess that no one would ever love him as much, or have such insight into him. But somebody else would probably be much better at making him happy. Ideally without even having to try much. At least at first. Hopefully he would make them happy enough to work at it when the time came.

Half-assed, as usual ; 2003-09-02 2:08 p.m

In spite of a lovely weekend, one during which very nearly all my choices were made based simply on my childrens' happiness (and in a non-spoiling way. yay) this morning I felt like a terrible mother.

Why?

It's not because I didn't make the girls go to bed promptly at 8pm it being the night before the first day of school-
Not because I didn't give them long lovely baths to usher in the school week (I didn't,they swam for many hours yesterday and smelled clean if a little like chlorine)
Not because I completely forgot to buy the items on the school supply list,But because on Thursday night EEP's new 1st grade teacher gave me a simple worksheet entitled "My Hopes & Dreams" for me to fill out in regard to the forthcoming school year. I lost it.

So off goes EEP to school- in uniform, without My Hopes & Dreams.

I really do have Hopes & Dreams for her second year in 1st grade. Otherwise I would've sent her trudging merrily on. Nobody insisted she be held back- it was up to me. Why consider it? Because she was 4 when she started Kindergarten. She turned 5 two weeks after school started. Because the Daddyman and I would like her reading a little better before it all gets much harder, possibly squelching an inherited GREAT LOVE of reading. Because she is an amazing, dynamic, imaginative child who I would love to see be a leader in class instead of a retiring, quiet child who's just trying her best to stay afloat.

She passed all her Grade One reading levels, but the tester "got the feeling" she was guessing what the words were rather than reading them. But if she did, she guessed them right. I love that.

So we are nurturing her with one more year in first grade. She is still getting a new teacher and a new classroom. Her teacher said she was excited that EEP was in her class because since she had First Grade Experience- she could be a good leader- raise her hand a lot, and make smart choices.

I trust EEP knows what a smart choice is. I haven't been a stellar example of "smart choices".

I do raise my hand a lot.

The Great Big Book of Everything; 2003-08-29 1:06 p.m.

"It's the great big book of everything
With everything inside
See the world around us
This book's the perfect guide.."

That's a song from the Disney show Stanley that my kids watch as they're getting dressed, but it just occurred to me how much I would love it if there actually was a book like that.

The show is referring to a fantasical encyclopedia, and that is just what I would love -a fantasy encyclopedia that allows one to investigate experience safely and learn from it. But if the experience got too scary, or became too much for you for any reason at all- all you would have to do to escape it is close the book.

Things are pretty good for me right now. Even with all the bothersome crap that's going on with my ex, I know all too well that it could be a much, much worse. I am very grateful for the way things are for me right now, and I'm eager to continue my progress into things being better than they've ever been before. I am positive that is where I am headed and there'll be lots of drama and laughs along the way. I am hoping that really soon, (in fact almost immediately) we start shooting from my script and my script alone. Gone will be the credit "This episode produced and directed by the Daddyman"

Let's all pause as I revel in the very joy of knowing that this is the path ahead.

Now let us reflect on how many times in the past 2 years I wish I could've slammed my "Great Big Book of Everything" shut and stopped life cold.

This is better.

Get over it already! 2003-08-27 1:19 p.m.

So we’ve established that the Daddyman is sad, right?

And now in his new aloneness, he is trying to draw me near. To console, comfort, coddle, and cajole him.

When things collapse he tends to look at what his assets are. I am one of those assets.

So last night we had this conversation about his issues with me (if I only would clean the apartment more, go to the doctor about my snoring, and play chess… THEN he could be happy with me! ) I finally said "Listen, it doesn't matter. I have to face up to the fact that you were what I'd always been looking for, and that just turned out to not be what made me happy.” I'm pretty sure he wasn't listening, but it felt pretty good to say it to him. I mean, that is the nut of it, well before the long days journey into crack started.

Olga didn’t want a “normal life” with him. That’s not necessarily a bad thing he needs to blame himself for. Overlooking the drug use and criminal activity, let’s just assume she would always long for the romance and excitement they once knew. He’s one of her (drug) memories that she will forever cherish. That desirable lifestyle that she just can’t maintain. There’s a flattery there somewhere if you look. There! On the rug! No wait that’s just some ceiling that crumbled off. Damn! I thought I had some flattery left.

A Minor Russian Drama;2003-08-27 11:46 a.m.

And he calls me a martyr!

The Daddyman is so so sad. He can't stop thinking about Olga. He can't believe that they are through. Even though they weren't together anymore. Really.

Here's the dish.

Just after midnight the early morn of the Daddyman's birthday Olga apparently stopped by. She procceded to reveal that she had a "one night stand" and "oops the condom broke and she might be pregnant".

This started the birthday with ooplomb to say the least.

Later, it was revealed that what she meant when she said "one night stand" was that she met a 55 yr. old judge who wanted to marry her and have her bear his heir. So what the skinny really is (and trust me I'm practically psychic as to what's really usually going on with this chick) that Olga met a guy who will marry her and take care of everything for her, who she hopes is old enough to be less interested in an active sexual relationship, who'll be happy that she bears his child and then will hire a nanny once the kid is weaned allowing her to be a weekend Mom. Olga has said many times to Daddyman "I don't want a husband, I want a wife." And there you go...

Let's look over the insanity of this decision and move on. This wacky chick is no fave of mine, after all- she is already the proud mama of a large share of the drama in my life.

So the Daddyman is sad, but less sad because at least Olga is just takin' care of business, and that's how he's veiwing this debacle, as her new business arrangement. "At least there is no love" he says.

Good God.

The Daddyman is an emotional cripple who struggles with everything in life, even the smallest parental duty. He loves the girls very much, he's proud of them, he brags- but being in the same room with them at their high energy level is far far too much. This is pathetic and unexcusable of course. The point is, Olga is just like the Daddyman emotionally. She's worse because she can't deal with her own feelings at all and she has more of them. How on earth will she ever deal with the emotional roller-coaster of pregnancy?

Again I'm moved to say-

Good God.

paint by number anxiety;2003-08-26 2:11 p.m.

I'm having an anxiety attack. Maybe not really- but it's been a really long time since I've felt anxious at all. The anxiousness I'm feeling now seems unbearable, yet I bet I could be distracted from it.

Why am I anxious?

Daddyman called because he's feeling unloved. He's feeling abandoned and useless and bored. So he called me hoping I might leave work to play hookey. He said he wishes we had more time alone.

He and Olga broke up.

Even though they weren't "together" anymore, really.

He said he understood that work was the priority, but I could tell that he was really disappointed that I didn't jump at the chance to comfort, console, and coddle him.

He is my baggage that I wish would get shipped to Tuscon accidentally.

His blues have given me the reds. Anxiety is possibly more of a pulsing fucshia.

My decision has been sound. I sit here bored, but still will not leave.

I can breathe. sorta.

parole; 2003-08-22 8:32 a.m.

I haven't talked to the Daddyman in over 24 hours.

Insert picture of Laura stretching out in ecstasy.

Everytime it occurs to me I get a little unconscious grin goin' on. Last night, the girls and I were at a friend's house and I realized-

"Why, I haven't talked to him all day!"

No calls for sympathy. No calls for assistance. No calls for help. No need to listen. No emotional drain.

There's the grin again. It almost calls for a little dance all it's own.

An abandoned dance with my hands thrown up and my head tossed back as if something wonderful was raining down on me from the sky. What could it be?

freedom.

It's like naughty good, I feel so good. I have that delicious feeling of getting away with something.

Getting away from something.

Man, I hope it holds out.

sad, but true;2003-08-20 2:39 p.m.

I am suddenly so tired. I just had to get my period on top of everything else that's happened all week (and it's only Wednesday, for chrissake!). The Daddyman calls and wants to borrow my drill, and is trying to be helpful, but the fact of the matter is that we still haven't acknowledged the full extent of the theivery and mischief that occurred this weekend and I feel like I should at least get an apology for his behavior. But a large part of me also wants to give him room because it's not his fault his stupid freelance contracting work dried up for two weeks. I have experienced the depression of not working.

But as it is, my nest egg (or property tax check some call it) has been stolen and squandered and having the Direct TV turned back on doesn't make me feel all that much better. I don't want to push him away because I know how lonely that is. I just want to cry because I was robbed, and I want to cry because I don't want to abandon the person who robbed me. I want him to just realize what he's done and wake up. ALL BY HIMSELF. I want him to just go away too. ALL BY HIMSELF. I am just so tired of him, and his personality, and his needs. But my love for him is true nonetheless. It is no longer romantic, it is no longer passionate, but I love him. I just don't want him in my life anymore.


"Wow" I said. "But how do you know it's really true love?"
"You know,"she said."Something tells you..Maybe for you it will be the way you feel when a certain someone looks at you in a certain way. Or something in the sound of her voice. It could be anything. That's not important. What matters is what you do when it happens. Do you accept it and act on it, or do you ignore it, or try to deny it? Because true love isn't always convenient. Almost never, in fact. It comes at a bad time. Or with the wrong person. That's when you've got to find the courage to follow your heart, no matter what. Because the alternative is death. Living death, which is the worst kind..."

-The Princess Bride by William Goldman

Excerpt from a Reader's Guide Character Interview with Princess Buttercup,25th Anniversary Edition


It might be sad and crappy, but it is the truth. Although he's nothing I need to cling to, that love is a part of me. Probably the best part.

sing along;2003-08-19 1:44 p.m.

In spite of the humidity here, it must have been raining somewhere, because this morning I drove under a rainbow on my way to work. I sang the appropriate song at the top of my lungs too.

Now you should sing it too.

snake in the grass 2003-08-18 12:43 p.m.

I was happily about my Monday- reading e-mails and the diaries of those with home computers who have the luxury of weekend updating, and decided to call the phone bank to see if my Saturday deposit was registering in my balance yet.


it wasn't


Next step is to check the transaction list.
There were several $20 debits that were not mine. Sadly, although I haven't had an account for a year, I am familiar with this phenomena.

We have lost cabin pressure.


I chose to immediately confront the thief via phone. It only took being faced with proof to admit his crime. He doesn't know why. He doesn't even want to use anymore. He doesn't want to lose my support because he knows that I am the only one to give any.


At least he admitted it.
At least he didn't excuse his behavior.

We'll talk more about it later.

What I'm sure he doesn't anticipate is that besides not being able to spend the night at my house (which he doesn't need to do anyway, being that he has his own apartment) he's not going to be welcome at my apartment until he at least pays me back. He's not going to be able to use my car either. As far as the use of my "spare" car once the minivan becomes street legal, he will learn that I can't imagine allowing that unless he's going to some kind of AA or NA meeting, and has at least made an appointment with Minneapolis Mental Health to try Depakote again. I will not be forced to prove my godliness by handling snakes. I'd rather go to hell and see one dead in the grass.


THIS JUST IN!

He asked me for my PIN # while I was sleeping. Nice luck.

little blessings 2003-08-15 1:57 p.m.

I saw April (the baby that I gave to be adopted) yesterday. She's 4 months old now and she's nice and fat. She laughed a lot and she seems really happy with her mom. Eep and the mina were really excited to see her and laughed at everything she did especially when instead of burping after her bottle she let out a big explosive fart. I swear she did it to entertain the girls. Her Mom is proud of the baby and laughs at her cuteness. I don't think she has a single complaint about the attention and time she has to devote to her. I would love to be able to think of the girls everyday as a blessing and never wonder what I must have been thinking when I decided to have them and keep them. I mean I love them every time I think of them, but I still wonder what might have been best for all of us. I guess part of the reason that I am so confident in my decision to give April up for adoption is because I know that I've given another mom the chance to look at April everyday as a blessing. That's my blessing. There's no doubt I know the value of that.

there I am 2003-08-14 12:24 p.m.

I am very contented with the day I had yesterday. I read a complete book,while the girls were at the wading pool for hours and then we had DQ.

As we were walking to the wading pool I looked down at the shadow I cast on the ground. It was so cool, because what I saw in silhouette was exactly the shape I always think I am. (You know how sometimes when you look at your body in a full length mirror it looks really off from how you picture yourself? But then you catch your full reflection in the glass of a store window and it looks flawless..) I looked down and I saw my shadow and it gave me a profound sense of reassurance, a deep feeling of "There I Am". Like all the insecurities and anxieties of the recent past were illusions, for I had found myself once more and I was exactly the person I always thought I was after all.

and he's off!...2003-08-05 11:23 a.m.

The Daddyman got a caretaking job! This, in theory, means that he will move out of my home. I think that would be good. He also says he probably has work lined up after the job he's working at is through. More good news. Things are as messy as ever but it's easy to keep your head above the surface.

Mess- I'm not sure that actually pertains to the Daddyman though, because at last my feelings, although complicated, are not messy. The wound just never bleeds anymore, even when it gets caught on stuff. I told him the other day that I want to look at him the way I thought my estranged sister looked at me. Like an old acquaintance. And that's true. But if I viewed him as a stranger, it would only make him "need" to somehow close that gap. He would never have the presence of mind to realize that he's been courting that distance for years. He talks to me about Olga and her behavior is so like his in so many ways. Olga is really mean on top of everything else so it's as if he fell for someone like himself and as mean as his mother.

He says that he has to be able to touch base with her to be able to make sense of what happened between them over the past year. I think what's wise is to keep her in reality enough that she doesn't become this object of romanticized unrequitement.

Some days I feel like my head is on awfully straight after all.

sense and insensibility 2003-08-08 12:14 p.m.

The Daddyman met Olga when her husband shared a room with him in treatment. Olga and the Daddyman didn't like each other at first. I think it was because initially the Daddyman really liked his roomate and Olga was one of the roomate's problems. After treatment it was clear that the roomate's biggest problem was an unending need to drink and be drunk no matter what the time of day. Olga is a Russian girl who is in the US on a temporary VISA. She's a drug counselor in the hospital system. She's working as a counselor-yet she's also still has school to finish. When the daddyman and Olga started hanging out, I didn't think much of it. It's sort of par for the course- He vehemently dislikes someone and then realizes it's attraction. I figured it was a good friend to make even if there was personal and sexual interest there, because she's a drug counselor, I mean those are useful skills to have in your pocket post-recovery...

I was happy for Daddyman, and luckily when the bottom of my life started to drop out and he and Olga were being supportive of me so I felt grateful. I was happily under the illusion that Daddyman was taking things slow in this new relationship- that he wasn't going to sleep with her until she was divorced because Olga was always jumping into new relationships before the old ones had ended. When I found out I was still pregnant (I had thought I had miscarried and in my Celexa haze never followed up with a doctor) and I was seriously considering having an abortion it was Olga that the daddyman talked to, and it was Olga who talked to me, saying that Daddyman wasn't sure he'd be able to live with himself if an abortion took place, and she pledged to support me with the pregnancy whether we kept the baby or gave it up for adoption. It was all very nervous what with the situation making it necessary to define relationships that wouldn't otherwise require definition, but I figured and said;-
"As long as we all try to be honest, anything is really possible."


heh

Shortly after New Year's Eve the Daddyman arrived at my apartment in the early hours, stinking of alcohol and announcing "I broke up with Olga. I've been fucking her since November and we've been smoking tons of crack together, but it's over and I'm probably going to report her to her supervisor tomorrow."all this uttered as his backpack full of his stuff hit the floor.


I got over that bit of drama. When he went back to her about a month later, I got over that drama too. I had to stay calm- I was pregnant. I wanted to like Olga, because I wanted the Daddyman to move past me. I did everything I could not to rely on him for anything- and when I decided that I wouldn't necessarily even be able to count on the two of them to watch the girls when I was in the hospital- I turned to my sister MJ, and then my parents stepped back into the picture. (My parents had been picking up the girls for frequent visits since Christmas. They saw them at least 3 times a month)

While I was in the hospital having the baby, Daddyman & Olga had another fight. Her expectations were just not being reached. I think she'd been thinking she would be able to have this baby given to her somehow through me and Daddyman. That the two of them would be the parents- with rules and structure, and with me playing the role of nurturer. Heh. Things dragged on until the two of them started to plot ways to keep away from each other. Her treachery of being a drug counselor who was smoking gigantic amounts of crack was brought up. Bartering came into play. An empasse was reached through silence and a restraining order. (against Daddyman)

Finally they made a pact. Olga actually turned herself in at work and was on suspension being subjected to frequent and surprise drug testing that makes using for her impossible. Olga dropped the restraining order and Daddyman is working everyday and trying to cope with life. They've both only attended one meeting of any kind, and it was together. He feels that unless he keeps in touch with her that she becomes romanticized, something he's lost, and the contact he has with her now helps him keep things in check with reality. I'm pretty sure he's lying up a big storm until he moves out (because he's still currently staying with me and the girls) and I have no say in the matter. He really wants the use of the extra car once the van is street legal.

I believe she is really bad for him- and he's bad for her. I think they are totally delusional about what's going on now, and what it will become. I've told him that I feel like I have to forgive him because of his role in the girls' lives. Unfortunately he's used up all my forgiveness and I turn her away empty handed. Olga has never apologized to me for any of her lies or machinations in my life. I am the third leg in a dramatic triangle I've never wanted any part of. She is the key ingredient of chaos. I'm tired of this cyclone. I want to be in Oz already... I was told last night that as of today-

"I'm no longer your concern"

'If only... If only..'the woodpecker sighs
the bark on the tree was as soft as the skies
The wolf waits below him, hungry and lonely
and cries to the moon
'If only...if only..'
-Louis Sachar Holes

March 3, 2002-it gets even better (posted Aug 2003)

You drive into every tunnel blind.

Also, admittedly a little too fast "for conditions", but that’s what brakes are for. It’s March, I’m headed back to work after a few days off to get a handle on my life (because the idea that I might continue to screw up and possibly lose my job was causing me a great deal of anxiety and panic- imagine that) feeling assured that I had done the right thing.

I found myself in need of an abrupt stop. Literally. I braked and skid on the ice. My mini van’s (which was exactly the same van as the one that was rolled, only a little nicer) back end swung out and smashed its front end into the wall of the tunnel. I pulled away from the tunnel wall, swerved left through 2 lanes of traffic without touching another vehicle, regained control of my vehicle, and realized my front passenger side tire was flat. I proceeded through the tunnel, switching to the right shoulder and stopped my car and called AAA. I then called work and left a tearful and hysterical message with the lead in charge.

“Oh no, you got your van fixed and you’re in another accident?” It was the same state trooper from accident #1. He was appropriately sympathetic and got me immediate towing assistance getting my vehicle from its dangerous place on the blind shoulder of the freeway following the tunnel. He was much faster than AAA. It was considered to be another no fault accident, since what happened to me happens several times each winter in the tunnel. Nobody was hurt. I am lucky lucky lucky right? I am left feeling grateful.

I decided if I was going to give the Daddyman another chance, he should also be the one I asked for help. He came to pick me up right away. Needless to say I go home and take a dose of the generic Valium newly prescribed to me for emergencies. But I also feel the need to ask myself if I am somehow subconsciously willing the accidents to happen. I am telling myself it’s crazy to believe that my choosing the Daddyman has led to this destruction.

Sure it is.

March 2002 -a little music to add to the scene (posted Aug 2003)

Backtracking, over the weekend after I am faulted at work, but before my accident I am coming to grips that I have been more depressed than I realized, and perhaps it’s been going on for years.

The Daddyman had pointed out that I was depressed and maybe needed help and I was so appalled that a he had the unending gall to suggest that I might be the cause of our issues that I didn’t look at it at all.

In my mind, any depression I was going through was because I was completely overwhelmed by motherhood and the accompanying isolation and unless he, who was supposed to be my childrearing partner, was helping me with those things (those things meaning the issues, not the actual children, although help with the children might have also been nice) unless he was actually helping with those things he remained too much of the issue to be able to pass the buck. I am not that depressed because I leave the house every day and deliver our babies to school. I go to work each day. I do more, therefore I must be able to cope more, lalalalala not me it’s you and you better shut up!

So although I know the Daddyman’s problems are worse and his share of my problems cannot be denied, it suddenly remained that he was right on a certain level and I had to admit that. Also since the girls and I left him, he had been being more of a parent than he ever had been in spite of all his shit. Also he was very vocal in his desire that we remain a family and that I still be his “girlfriend” (his wording and it was cute to refer to the mother of your 2 children as your girlfriend. Really, it was.) So there I was with all this crap in my lap wondering how to proceed.

So when I was dropping off the girls to spend the night with the Daddyman, and he was freaking out because he felt if I was leaving him it must have been for another option, another man- I decided that the most effective means of handling the issue was to reassure him. I reassured him by taking all my clothes off, and lying down on his bed and telling him that if he wanted me so bad, then here I was.

It certainly shut him up.

It also started us talking. Having sex was a visit to the one arena of our relationship that we never had any issues with. And I felt that I had to give him the chance he was asking for because he was asking, and he had been helping, and I thought maybe he’d seen more of what had been going on with me than I had. He was, certainly, the only person who was willing to look at me in terms of the problems going on instead of blaming himself. (He did that too, but not with the blind commitment of everyone else in my life) My heart became soft and hopeful for a brief moment. Where did it lead? Heh.

Car accident #2 was the first cosmic commentary I received about my moment of weakness.

February 2002 so Celexa walks in and she says to me, she says- (posted Aug 2003)

I got a warning at work for job performance. This really pissed me off since I had reached out to my “lead” at the appropriate time to let her know I was leaving the Daddyman and wanted her support on the job (to me that’s saying –in case I get too distracted or mess up, warn me and help me..) I was very proud of myself for asking for the help I might need. Too bad it didn’t work out.

I decided maybe I needed to recognize that I wasn’t doing as well as I thought I was. Who did I think I was, after all, going to work and trying? Clearly the right move for me would be to have a complete breakdown.

So again, I tried to do the right thing at work, and I made an appointment with a therapist, and contemplated trying antidepressant medication. I started taking Celexa which was also lauded for its anti-anxiety effects. It completely knocked me out. After a few days getting used to the effects I was ready to go back to work.


On my way to work that day I got into car accident #2.

the first horseman of the apocalypse December 2001([posted Aug 2003)

My parents had bailed me out on several occasions with rent mostly, and they helped me when I was trying to leave the Daddyman by buying a reliable car for me to drive when I couldn't get a car loan, and paying the security deposit when I moved out with the girls. Of course that was right when the signs of the apocalypse started presenting themselves.

Right after I moved out (Dec 2001)I was driving home from the rents with eep and the mina(at night) and was suddenly in a dense white fog. I, not being able to see at all, braked. Braking made me start to skid and therefore I let off the brake and switched lanes. I couldn't slow down in the left lane either, I was still sliding when I braked, and worse yet I felt like the minivan was leaving my control. "I'll pull onto the shoulder where there is dirt and grass and brake there.." I thought. Miraculously I successfully changed lanes again, but slid in the gravel while braking once I'd reached the shoulder. I didn't realize there was a very steep incline dropping about a foot from the freeway shoulder and I cried aloud when my minivan rolled. Once righted the van proceeded forward and I had to break and turn the car off to stop it. I was terrified that it would explode since firey explosions are the result of every car crash I'd ever seen in film and TV. I grabbed my purse and thew it clear of the van as I ran around to the passenger side to get my kids out. My kids calm reflected the calm I was projecting to them and they both said they were all right as I released them from their seatbelts and we got clear of the van. There was already a State Trooper and several passerby at the shoulder at the top of the incline. No one was hurt, and the accident didn't appear to be my fault. (What had happened was the car in front of me had their radiator hose blow. Antifreeze/coolant is as slippery as ice, and clings to your tires, so that was why I slid even after changing lanes. It was considered a no fault accident but my van was totaled.) The only time anyone cried was when I went to the van to see if I could find my insurance info. Mina(4) didn't want me to leave her. Since everthing in the van flew everywhere I couldn't find a thing. The inside of the van looked like a dumpster that had been dropped from a plane.

We were all very brave and very blessed of course.

baby sister 2003-07-31 1:20 p.m.

My sister L is cast as a member of the wedding party in the weekend of family wedding fun. L isn't actually my baby sister chronologically, but she was my only little sister for 7 years, and still acts like the baby of the family. I haven't really seen her since early November at my sister Amy's bridal shower. I had just found out that I hadn't miscarried and was instead nearing the end of my first trimester of pregnancy. I asked my sister MJ (who's getting married this weekend) for help in my decision to "take care of things" since I'd been paralyzed and unable to even really examine the situation on my own. She was really great. In my relief at finally asking someone for help, I confessed I'd been not only paralyzed over my pregnancy- but also a little suicidal. Several days later my sister and parents showed up at my apartment and my parents wanted to talk to me alone. MJ took the girls for a ride. My parents said that they felt that I wasn't doing well dealing with my depression myself and that they thought since I was suicidal that I should look into in-patient treatment programs. They wouldn't be able to help me anymore or even see me. If I needed in-patient treatment and if the daddyman wasn't able to watch the girls, then I would have to look into foster care. Needless to say I would no longer be going to Jamaica for my sister Amy's wedding, nor would the girls.

And we didn't. I've seen my sister L once since, on Mother's Day when the girls and I were at MJ's house with my parents for dinner. She stood in the doorway to the patio and rushed off. She's very busy supposedly. I'm pretty sure that my year of being depressed, then pregnant, then giving the baby up for adoption has traumatized her somehow. Because she's definitely a person that everything that happens, happens to her.

We might have fun together at the wedding, because that's usually what we do, and then L talks about how she's sorry she doesn't see me more often, but then she will retreat once again. Maybe we are beyond "catching up". Maybe we won't really talk at all. I think I will grin at her maniacally and see. I like her, but she is a nuerotic freak that allows her own thoughts, feelings, and issues to entrap her. I think she can't talk to anyone that she doesn't speak to on a weekly basis. Stuff happens, she goes to therapy, she rehashes her therapy session, and jill comes tumbling after. That's my sister L. If she could only see how normal she really is, she would relax.

A scarlet letter 2003-07-29 5:31 p.m.

If you were to wear a scarlet letter, what would that letter be? Hester wore the 'A' for adultery. I could wear the 'A' for adoption, I suppose. If I am guilty of wrongdoing in my life though, "F' in general is a more appropriate indicator. F for fabrication, F for believing in Fairytales, F for fornicating and fellatio... Maybe instead of a big red letter, it would be purple. Or you could wear a big green letter to indicate the sins you aspire to commit. A big purple one for the ones you refuse to feel guilt for. Red letters should only be used for sins resulting in bloodletting.

shipwrecked/pirates 2003-07-28 8:47 a.m.

As my mind was wandering just now, I came across a pertinent thought. What business do I have withdrawing from life and people anyway? I really haven't changed, and what I have to think and say has always mattered to someone. I seem to remember years ago, when the whole Affair to Forget began that I would walk around reminding myself that no man is an island. Was I left like Jack Sparrow with only a pistol featuring a single shot? Not really- it's more like I abdicated to an island and my ex just kept visiting me anyway. I could start throwing coconuts at him or something. So I've finally lashed some sea turtles together to form a raft. All that keeps me from escape is commandeering a vessel..

monday 2003-07-28 8:30 a.m.

Another Monday. Sometimes I feel like I'm just slipping into another week. Did I have anytime for myself at all this week? I guess I had an hour running around on Monday.. Does not having time by myself make a difference? I'm not sure anymore. I got to read two novels- but one was really short, and one I'd read before. The sun didn't exactly cooperate with me this weekend. It hid its face on Saturday when I was really wooing it. But the time I spent with Priscilla was pretty fun. Sometimes I wonder if I will always find friends that are more a mess than I am. It would seem impossible though, and yet many times, that is what I think. She's just in a hard place right now- it's not that she doesn't know what the right choice is to make. I can certainly sympathize with that.

Still no word from Shari or Cathy. I guess I just should give them time, but I am disappointed that they haven't responded at all. I should have just let it go. The person I need to tell next is Kayla. I actually trust her to respond no matter what her reaction is. At least I think I do. And she might already know about the adoption because I asked Rich for advice. It doesn't change the fact that I'm gunshy now. I don't want sympathy or even to talk about this really- but it needs to be acknowledged, and I feel like people's reaction so far isn't allowing that. Oh well.

Suppertime 2003-07-24 10:47 a.m.

We have said before that our friendship was just one ongoing conversation, and that description still seems ideal. It was like after 7 years she said "Hey Laur' about the Godfather..." and it commenced. It feels really good to know where she is in reference to me. My friendship and interaction with Moll was a huge part of my identity that has been put aside for years. I missed it. I'd forgotten how life could be so full with her to talk about it with. That's a really good thing to have, a person that values your trivial observations because you amuse them so much. Mutual instant respect without delusion. Is it rare? I value it.

hanging in the balance 2003-07-23 3:03 p.m.

Ever had something happen in your life that is freaks everyone out that you want to tell about it? You wonder if it might not be important to tell, because later on it might be pertinent, or elaborated on, and what happened took up too much time and space in your life to escape mention. Like I had a brief period where I was in a cult. (I was never in a cult. This isn't the thing- it's an example of a kind of thing.) A big thing that's maybe stigmatized and the kind of thing that apparently no matter HOW you mention it often freaks everybody out a little. I have tried to be forthcoming with info about my life in the past year with 2 different friends from the internet that I have always felt very close too,and can I tell you, there is a space I occupy since I sent out those emails, and the soundtrack in that space is that of DEAFENING crickets.

So what do I learn from this? Do I not tell any of my friends about it because it because of potential freakouts? Because there are more people I'm close to that I probably need to tell, and it's not because I need their support or their sympathy. It's not so they can be proud of me or sorry for me, but I feel they should know because that's what happened. It's history, and for all I know there might one day be a test. As I wait for a nibble on the two lines I've cast out now, I wonder if there's a way to fish with a net instead.

working in a coal mine 2003-07-23 10:11 a.m.

I feel emotionally hungover today, although yesterday was actually a good day. Of course shortly after I woke up I discovered it's cherry blossom time, which is better than waking up actually soaked in menstrual blood, but still. And Claritan works better when it's taken daily. It has this withdrawal effect which is the only thing wrong with it.

I saw this man this morning who was entirely the same color. His clothes, his hat, and his skin. He looked as if he'd just left a coal mine. I wonder if his eyes were closed because I didn't see the ultra-whites of his eyes- the way they tend to look when someone is entirely a contrasting color.

There was something else, I'm sure of it. I just don't care that much to continue right now.

getting better 2003-07-22 3:56 p.m.

Somebody came lookin for me last week, and found me. That was a nice change. I think that when you're single life is like living by the airport. You think you tune the planes out and don't hear them, but you don't really know what quiet is until you're elsewhere in a big meadow or something. You only think you're alone until you've reached the next level.