Posts Tagged With: anxiety

(not) punching people at Costco

Ran to Costco yesterday.
Big mistake.

Everyone and their third cousin was up in that joint.
Nobody knew how to drive a buggy. Nobody knew how to load their items on the belt.
Bunch of freaking lollygaggers!

And I’m on the phone with Thing 1 having an absolute fit about it!
She is howling with laughter about how she learned to drive from me (fuming and cussing without really being mad) because that’s how I was rolling through the big ol’ warehouse store.
In the checkout line, the woman in front of me parked her buggy at a 45 degree angle instead of moving it straight up. That was the last straw for me.
I whispered into the phone, “The chick in line in front of me. I’m going to punch her right in the back of her head. Hard.”
Thing 1 laughed and said, “One day someone will hear you and you’ll get in a real fight. I’ll have to come to come see you at the hospital where you’ll be handcuffed.”
We laughed and laughed.
Though that would be just my luck…

I said goodbye to her before I checked out. (I may be a bitch, but I’m not rude. I think it’s so disrespectful to cashiers to be on the phone while they’re helping you.)
I did call Thing 1 back to report the ridiculous way the cashier backed my box. Eggs underneath peanut butter? Really, bitch?
Thing 1 had quite a laugh at me!

Of course I wasn’t quite finished with my spitting rant, so I called Sundance. If there’s anyone to join you in a crazy, spun-up rant, it’s Sundance. And that was just what I needed!
I’m all screeching and shouting and cussing and she’s feeding me with a spoon. At one point only dogs could hear us.
And then it stopped.
And I said, “This is my anxiety manifesting itself.”
And just like that (finger snap) I was calm.

This is something for me to pay serious attention to.
And I mean Serious Attention.

My anxiety is heightened right now. My stress levels are elevated.
I know this. I’m working to manage this. But sometimes it manifests in shopping rage. And in reality, nobody was harmed. I didn’t punch that woman. I avoided handcuffed hospital visits and possible jail time.
Managing my anxiety is an active process.
I’ve got good help.
I’m learning to let go. I can’t control everything, however much I long to. I’m working at not taking things so seriously. I’m working at making sure my expectations are realistic.
So…sometimes I want to punch strangers in the back of their heads. And sometimes I want to stab people with my ice pick. (It’s metaphorical, I swear! I never carry one in my bag or anything…I’m not remotely shifty…)
But wanting to punch or stab is not actually doing either.
So it’s cool.
Maybe.
Just gotta keep paying attention. Knowing I feel stressed or anxious is good, knowing why is better. Knowing how to manage those feelings is best.
Right now I’m at better…gives me something to strive for.
For the moment, that’s good enough for me.

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Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , | 1 Comment

just hold on a bit longer

I haven’t felt like writing in a while.
What’s curious about this is I find I miss it. Writing, that is.
My health has been…questionable. This plays a huge part in my desire and ability to write, but it’s also my mood. Where I am in my head. I haven’t had the emotional strength to write.

I feel as though there are angry little fish swimming round in my brain.
I feel as though I’m barely keeping my head above water.
Chronic pain breeds anxiety and depression.
I’ve got to break the cycle. I’ve got to figure a way to get it together.

Perhaps forcing myself to write will help with that.
If this was my journal I’d just write stream of consciousness stuff till I found my groove. I’ll spare y’all the chaos of that, but I will write about what’s taking up the most space in my mind…

Right now that’s the state of my health.
It didn’t go well at the new neurologist. She had (like every other neurologist I’ve seen) the bedside manner of a toad. I managed to keep it together until I left her office, but once I did I burst into angry tears. I was shaking and crying the whole way home. And I mean ugly crying. Poor YBW just held my hand. I am so frustrated! I just want to know how to feel better! So back to the drawing board for another new neurologist.
I’m tired of living with daily pain. I’ve lost my patience with always being tired. This is no way for a girl to live.

I’m overwhelmed and frustrated with life. It seemed smart at the time to throw myself headlong into school and lula and work, but now I’m realizing I bit off more than I could chew. I’m not sure what needs to be pushed off the plate. School can be pushed off the plate for up to three months, but that’s as long of a term break as I can have without withdrawing. And I can’t do that as I only have two more terms to finish.
Lula is almost successful. But needs more of my time and attention.
Work is overall good. Only it’s hard to stay engaged when I fell awful so frequently.

Perhaps I need to manage my time better. Surely I could do it all if I was properly organized? Though, I feel fairly organized and yet there are things that need to be accomplished that never seem to get checked off the list. I don’t feel like it should be this hard to live my life.

I miss being around my girls. I miss them every single day. It’s much harder to experience than I ever expected. It’s the silly things, being in the car together with fun music and great talks. Getting ready in the mornings together.
It’s hard for me to be so far away from them. Especially when I’m struggling, they bring me such comfort.
I know that they’re grown girls, that Thing 1 is married now, she’d be away from me no matter where I was. Thing 2 is at an age where she might be away from me too. I sometimes suspect it would be easier if it happened in that natural way. Or perhaps it would never be easy at all?

I’m floundering.
Being near my girls would be comforting, but I know that isn’t the way it’s to be.
YBW is comforting, only right now he’s preoccupied with the health of his mother. I see how it causes him to fret and I don’t want my stuff to add to that.

I’m just in a bad place right now. It will pass, and I’ll feel less like this. I’ll feel brighter and more engaged. Until then, I just have to hold on.
I’ve done it this long…
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my defining moment as a frog in cold water

Acute stress feels like it will crush you where you stand.
I promise you it won’t. Your fight or flight instinct will kick in and save you. Acute stress feels overwhelming and most of us would do anything to get away from it. But, acute stress won’t kill, no matter how much you believe it might.
Chronic stress is what will kill you.
Chronic stress is like putting a frog in a pot of cold water and then slowly turning up the heat. The frog doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s already boiling! That’s when one of two things happens. Fight or flight kicks in to save you, or you just die.

I’m an expert in chronic stress. I’m that frog in the pot of water. I was lucky enough that my instinct for flight is so strong. It saved my life.
I spent seventeen years with a man who emotionally abused me.
His sabotage so subtle, his manipulation so nuanced, it was poetry of pure unadulterated evil. He brought passive aggression to new and frightening depths. For the most part I was unaware on a conscious level. I went about my daily life feeling anxious without actually realizing it.
Sometimes I would wonder…Why did I require so much sleep? Why did I turn so much of my focus to my children? Why did I feel nauseous when he would come home? But never for long because there would be some sudden kindness and I would smile and believe him when he told me everything was lovely.

But on some level, I did know what was going on. I did know that something was amiss. I focused on my children to be a buffer between him and them so he couldn’t treat them the way he treated me. I presented the picture of the perfect little family to the rest of the world so no one would realize that he was not what he seemed.
I was scared of him. And scared isn’t a big enough word, but I’m honestly too lazy to thesaurus right now. He frightened every fiber of my being. Somehow I knew he’d never lay hands on me. I wasn’t worried about that. I didn’t realize the internal wounds could occasionally be worse.

He used to tell me that I was crazy. That I was certifiable. That they would put me in a straight jacket in the padded cell and that was where I belonged. He told me no judge in his right mind would give the girls to me. I had nothing and I was crazy. He told me that he would take the girls and I would never see them again.
I would have done and would still do anything for my girls. So I stayed with this man.
He read my journals. He read my email.
He even tried to sabotage my friendships…he had to do that carefully because he didn’t want to show his true colors. I was lucky that most of my friendships were strong enough to withstand his tricks.

I was trapped in a hell I helped create.
Every single day of my life I was scared.
Every single day of my life I was anxious.
Every single day of my life I was angry.
I was miserable. My girls were miserable. I was failing at being a mother. I was failing at being a person.
I was the frog in the pot of water suddenly aware that I was boiling!

This was the defining moment.
Would I die in that pot of boiling water?
No! I would save my own life!

The chronic stress was literally killing me. I was dying. I had to do something to preserve my own life.
I told him that I was done. I told him that I was empty and dead inside. I told him that I had nothing left to give. I told him I was leaving because I knew he would never leave.
When I finally left, he acted as though he was surprised. As though I’d never expressed any of my concerns. I didn’t even argue. I just walked away.
That’s when he turned on my girls. He manipulated them. He used them as weapons to hurt me.
That’s the only thing I regret about leaving him…what he did to my babies. You want to hurt me? Come at me directly.
My poor babies had to suffer for me to live.
That doesn’t seem right. But it was how it was.
A dying person is a desperate person.
I had to save my own life.
They’ve moved through that part of their lives. Will they ever heal? I honestly don’t know.
I know the only one who came out unscathed was their father. He has no clue what he’s done…or he doesn’t care. How’s that for crazy?

I was told by friends and family that I was strong. That I was brave. I felt neither. I felt as frightened as I’d ever been. I did what I had to do to stay alive.
It was the hardest thing I ever did, saving my own life. I only wish I’d been strong enough to do it sooner. Of course, the frog doesn’t realize what’s happening until the water comes to a boil…

I’m writing about this because of a conversation I had with my friend Nora last night, and a conversation I had with my sister in law today. Nora and I talked of relationships and life and celebs and sports stars we’d like to have our way with. We talked of previous lives and choices we make. We discussed “winning” at divorce. (When your life is better than it was before AND better than your ex’s current life.) We talked about being mothers. We ate pasta and drank a goodly bit of wine. We were “just girls” together, but we talked of important topics.
She’s actually the one who verbalized the frog in water analogy.

This afternoon I had a distressing conversation with my sister in law about her relationship with her children’s father. Apparently their state of chronic stress has escalated to acute and he’s announced he’s leaving. Knowing him as long as I have, I think he’s having a bit of a temper tantrum and it will blow over and they’ll go back to their life of chronic stress.
It is killing my sister in law. Now, there is a fairly decent amount of her stress that has little or nothing to do with him. She has some of her own shit to sort.
I told I knew what she was capable of. I suggested she tap into that deeply rooted power and make a better life for herself.
She expressed her fear.
Fear can ride shotgun, get it out of the driver’s seat. Fear will never drive me again. But it sure as hell likes to go along for the ride. I was scared half to death to make that huge change. Especially considering what impact it had on my children.
She’s not ready to do that hard work. She will eventually have to decide to save her own life or she will die.

I can’t run other people’s lives.
Some days I can barely run my own life. Seems that way lately.
I have stress in my life. But it’s acute stress. It causes an immediate reaction. And though my flight instinct is the strongest, I’m learning to fight. Fight the good fight. Fight for what’s right.

I fought the good fight by flying all those years ago. The fight to save my life. Because I tell you, I was dying. Not metaphorically dying. Actually. Physically. Emotionally. I was actively dying.
I learned the most important lesson about myself by saving my own life.
I learned that I can do anything.

Categories: divorce, loss, me, on being a mom | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

pipe the f**k down, Marcus Aurelius

When you arise in the morning think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love. ~ Marcus Aurelius
Well, this morning I woke rather¬†grouchy, so why don’t you just pipe the f**k down, Marcus Aurelius.

I had bad dreams again last night. My body exhausted when I woke. These dreams fill me with pain and anxiety. My body produces adrenaline and cortisol but has no outlet for it because I’m sleeping. So I’m flooded with these stress hormones that my body has to somehow reabsorb. No wonder I’m grouchy AF.

Normally, I can remember and recount the particulars of my dreams. These icky ones aren’t like that. All I can call up is imagery and the way it felt.
There was water in my dreams. It was dark and rippling. This water made me fearful. I was frightened that it would drown me.
My one true pathological fear is to smother. Drowning is essentially the same thing. So what is happening to me that I’m experiencing this level of fear and anxiety?

The logical part of my brain considers this:
Every thought we have causes a ripple. Every choice we make causes a ripple. Every action causes a ripple. Ripples move away from the starting point out in all directions and pretty much looks like this.
ripple

So when you’re having many thoughts, or making many choices at once it rather looks like this.
ripples

The feeling part of my brain sees only that the water is dark and moving rapidly. I become frightened. I become overwhelmed. I begin to panic. Stress hormones get released. I go to my brain stem and enter fight or flight mode. I don’t understand what’s happening to me but I feel that water is going to overtake and drown me. I’m not frightened enough to wake. I’m trapped in this cycle of fear and anxiety.
Here’s the part that I cannot wrap my brain around. I never enter the water. I’m never swimming or fighting to stay afloat. I’m just paralyzed by fear at seeing the water. I absolutely know that it will drown me even though I’m not actually in the water.

What is happening to me that this is my sleep?
What am I struggling with so hard?
What needs to be done to quiet my brain?

Apart from today and of course, Monday, I’ve been feeling overall well emotionally.
Obviously something is stuck and whatever it is needs help getting sorted. This cannot be my sleeping life. My fear of smothering is something that rides with me every single day, I can’t have it decide to try and drive once I’m sleeping.
Sleep is supposed to give your body a chance to rest. To restore. To recharge. Right now sleep is making me its bitch and wearing me out.

Something’s got to give.
My instinct to run is present. And getting harder and harder to ignore.

So, when being alive and able to think and enjoy and love is precious privilege, you’re waking from deliciously restful and restorative sleep, not from stressed and scary dreams.
While I appreciate the sentiment,Marcus Aurelius, I’m not feeling especially privileged today. Maybe I’ll get lucky tomorrow.

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riding the struggle bus

I had a bad day Monday.
It was the day of: Are you even alive?
I struggled the entire day. In all honestly, I should have gone back to bed and waited for Tuesday.
My friend Nora was quick to offer to come to my rescue, even though there was nothing she could really do to help. She’s good like that. I’m blessed to have her in my life. She’s a wonderful human being and she’s a good, strong, and loving friend.

I got a text message from her a little while ago. It said: Now it’s my turn to ride the struggle bus today.
She shared her struggle and we “breathed together” and she asked one question that I answered with truth and love. I think she’s feeling less anxious, and I know I don’t feel as concerned for her as I did when it started.

All that said, (and this is why she’s so great…she has the same wack-a-doodle sense of humor as me) I freaking LOVE that phrase “ride the struggle bus”. I’m fairly clever with words but have no qualms admitting I’d probably never come up with that phrase.
She was amused that I dig it.
She could see past her anxiety and appreciate the humor in the phrase.

Sometimes you can’t help but ride the struggle bus.
But if you’re really fortunate, you’ll have people in your world that will ride with you…or at least wait for you at the next stop.
That’s when you can stop and breathe together. And hopefully be amused.

Categories: peace and wellbeing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

it’s as simple as that

I worry that my brain will never get better.
I’m damn tired of being in pain. I’m sick of feeling tired all the time.
I keep thinking my brain must get it together and heal itself. But it doesn’t seem to give a damn. Sundance and I were talking about it yesterday. I told her I don’t even tell YBW how my head is feeling anymore because it’s chronically painful and I don’t want him to worry about it.

Is this just the new way of being?
Of course the constant low pressure weather systems that have been hanging over the mid-Atlantic only make it worse.
I’m being a whiny crybaby. But I’m so damn tired of feeling like this.

Perhaps writing it down and getting it “out” is helpful?
I don’t know.
Am I simply grouchy? (it’s possible)
Do I long to see the sun? (Good Lord, YES!)

Being alone during the day isn’t good for me emotionally. I’m acutely aware of that. But I feel like hell all the time…that doesn’t bode well for doing anything productive.
It’s been since September that I’ve had a job. It’s time. I can’t stay home any longer. It’s taking a negative toll on YBW financially. It’s taking a negative toll on me emotionally.
It seems ridiculous that I never feel well enough. Can I go to work and have my head hurt all day long? (pourquoi pas?)
What I’m most passionate about, I can’t really do successfully if it compromises my health. (au revior, early childhood education)

Perhaps I just need to suck it up and stop whining. This brain swelling isn’t going to kill me…it would have done it by now if it was going to. It really might be the new way of being. So, I get used to the new and different chronic pain and live my life around it. I just quit whining and as Mommie used to say: ‘pull yourself up by your bootstraps’ and get it together.

velvet jones
Eddie Murphy’s Velvet Jones says: “It’s as simple as that.”

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dog and pony show

I’ve been known to say: Weddings are nothing more than a dog and pony show. But I’m all about the most perfect ones for my daughters.
Well as it turns out I’m planning one for myself and YBW…
It doesn’t feel like a dog and pony show. Perhaps that’s because we’re going low key. Less than sixty people, just our children as attendants. Teeny church we’ll pack to near full even with so few. Intimate reception space. Good wine, dearest friends and family, s’mores bar…

I’m torn between that feeling of excited anticipation and the desire for it all to just be over.
I feel exhausted and overwhelmed from planning.
I am so joyful that our most beloved people will come together to celebrate with us.

Later this morning, Thing 2 and I will have our final dress fittings, drop off extension cords, the napkins and wine charms and response book to the decorator. I think these are the last errands to run. At least I hope they are. I need to do a quick tidy before Thing 1 and the guys arrive tomorrow. But other than that I want to lie low. Do my best to relax so I can shake the exhaustion and feeling of being overwhelmed.

I went to a meeting about a job yesterday. I was leery of scheduling it for this week, my fear of not having enough time gripped me like a noose. But I took a big breath and went. I’m glad I did, because I believe it was successful and I’ll be getting an offer while I’m honeymooning.
It was weird to do something non-wedding related.
My head was bad yesterday, but I was able to dazzle at the meeting.
Thing 2 and I camped out on the sofa yesterday afternoon when we got home from errands after the interview and watched our favorite Halloween movie, Hocus Pocus.

I’m tired of waiting. I’m ready for Saturday. I couldn’t have said that last week, there was still too much to do. I don’t want to rush this week along, but I’m at that place where I’ve spent so much time working on the wedding that now that I’ve nothing to do I’m almost more anxious.

I have a great deal of head pain which removes sleep from the equation but I’m going to try and go back to bed for a few hours and see if I can start again.

I have planned and planned and coordinated until I can’t anymore but I haven’t really focused on how lovely it will be to stand in front of God and the people I love most and join my life to YBW’s.
Just writing that sentence helped.
The idea of the love of the people in that room to support and bless us brings me great hope. Saying the words I wrote just for him, being prayed over, and sealing it all with a kiss really makes it feel worth the anxiety.

If it is a dog and pony show, well it’s our dog and pony show and that’s all that matters.

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music makes the wedding go round

We met with the DJ this evening. He’s going to be perfect for what we have in mind to celebrate with our friends and family.
We talked about special music, those songs that absolutely must be played…

Wedding party introductions he’ll play Willkommen from Cabaret with Alan Cumming as the Emcee.
Willkommen. Bienvenue. Welcome.

First dance:
L-O-V-E ~ Nat King Cole
I introduced this song to YBW and he loved it (no pun intended…well maybe a bit intended)…it was a no brainer to make it our first dance.

YBW’s “dance” with Thing C:
The Pretender ~ Foo Fighters
Thing C played this with his first band at his high school talent show. He’s since moved on to his second band. (they don’t play this song)

YBW’s “dance” with Thing G:
Happy ~ Pharrell Williams
Thing G is the only one of our four who isn’t a music kid…but he LOVES this song! It brings YBW SO MUCH JOY!

My dance with Thing 1:
Raise Your Glass ~ P!nk
What’s the dealio? Thing 1 adores P!nk and we are totally “wrong in all the right ways”.
http://www.pinkspage.com/us/news/raise-your-glass-video-premiere

My dance with Thing 2:
Dancing Queen ~ Meryl Streep, Julie Walters and Christine Baranski (from the movie soundtrack)
We have a whole routine to this song…well part of a routine, anyway…
She just turned eighteen and remarked that she’ll never be the Dancing Queen again because she’s no longer seventeen. I think we’re all a little bit “dancing queen young and sweet only seventeen” no matter how old we are.

Last dance: (save it for me)
Let’s Get it On ~ Jack Black (YEAH! I got it in there after all!!)
Y’all saw this in let’s love…sugar

Whatever gets played in between is fine with me! I’m going to be so busy visiting and hugging my friends and family!

I’m stressed like crazy trying to get the last things finished.
Sundance had the idea we should make the napkins for the reception…Thing 2 and I’ve done literally nothing else for the last two days…Sundance, not so much.
Thing 2 says she’s going to punch her Aunt Sundance in the mouth when she sees her. (I gave her my blessing.)
We decided to take a break tomorrow and just be. (Yay!) Then we’ll get back on it over the weekend.
Thing 1, fiance N and Thing 2’s D will arrive Wednesday. My friend and mentor and her beloved will arrive Friday afternoon. The Arizona contingent won’t arrive till super late Friday (the trouble with flying backwards across the country) so we won’t see them till the wedding Saturday.

My ability to control my anxiety and “freak out mode” is SUPER low…I’ve warned everybody, but at the moment only Thing 2 really understands the magnitude of that.
I was having a total temper fit yesterday and she finally told me: Get your shit together Momma!(The kid doesn’t lie.) I was whining about people volunteering to help but not bothering to show up. My darling (ex) co-teacher is doing all our decorations and has flaked the last two times we were supposed to meet so she could get all the stuff. (I already mentioned the napkin idea girl hasn’t shown up to make any.)

I can’t sleep so I’m writing and drinking wine straight from the bottle. (Classy, I know. But it was only a glassful in the bottom of the bottle so I figured, why dirty a glass.) I might need a Xanax…or two.

I have one more thing to do before I try to close my eyes. Create the special mad libs that YBW and I will write for our guests in the beginning of the response book.
The bride/groom are honored you’re here to celebrate with us and kiss you all!

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What are we doing?

My heart is heavy today.
Partly it’s because Thing 2 left yesterday.
Her being here brought me much anticipated joy! We did all the goofy things we wanted to do. We almost snuggled enough. We had good heart to heart talks that included tears and laughter. I’m glad she was here. I’m glad she went home to her friends, I know she was missing them. She’ll be back in a month and we’ll do it all over again!

Partly my heart is heavy because things feel weird with YBW.
We were being goofy in the kitchen a few nights ago and he thought I was hitting him with the dish towel so he leaned over and licked me from chin to hairline. A big, spitty-cow-tongue kind of lick. So after I wiped off my face and got the saliva out of my ear, I punched his upper arm.
When we went up to bed I was being silly and he didn’t want any part of it. That’s when he told me I had really hurt him.
He did everything he was supposed to do. He told me he didn’t like that I hurt him, and please not to ever hit him that hard again.
Then he fell asleep.

I haven’t slept in the same bed with him since that night.

The next morning I brought up the situation. I wanted to clear the air, make sure we could talk about it and understand each other’s points of view.
I apologized for hurting him.
It was clear that I punched him with intent. But I had no intent to hurt him. I think it was just one of those punches that lands much differently than anticipated.

We talked about what it means to be physical in non-sexual ways.
YBW tends to be very “handsy”. He is quick to touch or tweak various parts of me as we pass by one another. He’s quick to pet my hair or cradle my face in the palm of his hand. I quite love this about him. That small, silly physical demonstration of his affection for me.
Yes, sometimes it becomes difficult. There are times I’d rather he not randomly tickle me or grab my bottom as he follows me up the stairs.
In this conversation, I expressed my displeasure that it’s a one-way street. If I try to be playful and tweak at him he doesn’t like it. Now this is mostly because he’s extremely ticklish and most times it feels less tweakish and more ticklish to him.
But sometimes it doesn’t seem quite fair to me.

This conversation was…tricky. I knew bringing it up would create a scenario in which neither of us would want to touch the other for fear of crossing this imaginary line. I actually said as much.
We’re still working on hearing what the other says and not falling into old patterns of hearing what’s been said to us in our previous lives. I didn’t want to bring it up because I knew what would happen. But while we were near the subject, I needed to say what I was thinking.
That’s what grown ups do. They talk about ‘all the things’.

So, where that left us is days of no physical contact. Precious little eye contact. And me not being able to sleep next to him.
I’m just so uncomfortable around him. I don’t know if he’s uncomfortable around me or not.

Last night I was brushing my teeth and he was in and out of the bathroom. Normally he would run his hand across my bottom every time he passes me, but not last night.
He was already in bed when I got there.
I said: I’m going to try and stay in here all night.
He asked why I was leaving. I told him I just couldn’t sleep. Which is true. I lie there and simply cannot sleep so I get up and got into the other room. I don’t sleep much better in there, but I don’t feel quite as anxious as I do lying next to him.
He asked: Am I doing something to keep you from sleeping?
No.
Then I told him I kept waiting for him to touch my butt while I was brushing my teeth. I told him I didn’t like where we were. I pointed out that I asked if I could lean on him while we were sitting on the couch early in the day.
He replied that he still didn’t know when or how he could touch me but assured me I could touch him.

Two nights in a row I curled up behind his sleeping body, my face pressed against his back. Just breathing his scent trying to feel connected to him. Then got up and left the room.

I don’t know if Thing 2 being here inhibited us being connected, I was focusing most of my time and attention on her. The boys are here too, I don’t know if that inhibits us from being connected, YBW is focused on Thing G.
I’m not sure it’s as much them as it is us.

I honestly believe something shifted the night I punched him.
That however playful my intentions were, it landed in a very real way.
I don’t think he wants to really talk to me. I don’t think he really wants to have any sort of physical contact with me.

It’s hard to have an intimate conversation when there are kids in the house, but I’m going to try again to bring it up when he comes home today. We may have to wait till Friday when the boys go back to their mom.
I believe he’s struggling with this too. I don’t think it’s all in my head. But I’m going to have to take the initiative, because I can’t sit with it much longer.

One good thing about Thing 2 leaving is that I can go downstairs and sleep in my cocoon instead of the upstairs guest bed. At least that will be more comfy until we can figure out what the hell we’re doing.

Categories: love, me, peace and wellbeing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Manassas Battlefield

I absolutely adore Manassas Battlefield. I used to love to go there as a child and spend hours wandering aimlessly. I go there now as a grown up to experience that nostalgia.
I love the history of my home state. I love the fact that these places have been preserved, the physical places as well as the history.
When I go now, I almost always experience the battlefield from behind the camera.

The Henry House is my favorite place to visit. I love the view from the hill there. The story of Mrs Henry, stuck in her home due to illness as the first battle of bull run raged around her always resonated in me. She wasn’t able to leave her home before the fighting and ended up mortally wounded by Union fire.

The Henry House

The Henry House

I love how the changing light affects everything.

The Henry House

The Henry House

YBW likes to wander and play Ingress (To me it seems like a kind of electronic version of capture the flag for grown ups.) on his phone, “capturing” and “hacking” “portals” all around the battlefield.
The cool part of him playing this game on his phone is that I’ll tag along with my camera. We get out of the car, go our separate ways, and come back together after an hour or so.
I get time behind the lens, joy of being in a place I love, and he gains important “points” and “badges”. It’s pretty much win-win.

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The Stone House as seen from the top of Henry Hill. It was used as a hospital during both the first and second battles of Bull Run. I remember being at a post sledding bonfire there once when I was really little. I remember feeling a combination of excitement and fear. I was so tired after a day of up and down the hill but the bonfire was so thrilling. All the people, the chaos, me feeling very small and vulnerable and afraid to get separated from my mom caused great anxiety within me.

The Stone House

The Stone House

Sometimes folks get their nickname here.
Thomas Jonathan Jackson became “Stonewall Jackson” when General Bee of South Carolina observed his resolve in battle and cried out, “There stands Jackson like a stone wall! Rally behind the Virginians!”

There stands Jackson like a stone wall.

Stonewall Jackson

Categories: me | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

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