Lonely. Tired. Frustrated. Sad.
It was driving me crazy, so I sat down with my daughter to talk about her “hobby.” She told me that she’s been collecting plastic silverware for a while and that she put it in her boot to hide it. After we’d talked for a bit and she relaxed I told her that I found it kinda weird. Tears came to her eyes instantly, but I quickly assured her that I did weird things when I was a kid too. I told her about drawing all over my clothes and shoes, smoking cigarettes at her age (that one came with a threat if she tried it), and sucking the blood out of cuts and scrapes. She agreed that I was weird. But then I told her that I had reasons behind my weirdness. We talked a little about the things that happened in my childhood, including my sexual abuse. I watered it down, of course, I didn’t want to give her nightmares. But I’m thinking at this point the best way to open communication is to be honest and open with her, no matter how hard it is. I tried to show her how much I trust her by telling her about myself in hopes that it will help her to trust me with her problems. She told me very definitively that she only collected for fun and if I supplied something else she could collect and count that I could throw her silverware away. That eased my mind some, but I still felt the need to ask if anyone had ever tried to touch her. She told me no and that she would tell me if anyone ever did.
I do feel better. And I’m glad I told her. She hasn’t brought it up again, but I think she will be more willing to tell me if something does happen knowing that I will understand.
All of that being taken care of, I’m so not ready for Christmas. I haven’t baked one cookie, I just finished addressing Christmas cards today, the lights on my tree went crazy and now only half of them work, my house is a complete disaster, my shopping isn’t finished, I have two Christmas parties at school tomorrow at the same time, I have a ton of wrapping to do, I’m working all week at the grooming shop, and if I don’t get my hair dyed soon I’m just going to shave my head.
Can I just go to bed and wake up Sunday?
My overly emotional daughter, who we have come to the conclusion is in the beginning of puberty, came home from school today with her boot stuffed full of plastic silverware. Used plastic silverware. I’m not sure how long this has been going on, but apparently she has been collecting it from her friends and classmates at lunch. Long enough that some don’t even wait for her to ask for it but just put it on her tray when they’re finished with it.
She says she sorts it and counts it and makes tally charts. I asked her if she does it when she’s upset or worried or something and she said no it’s just for fun. I don’t understand this behavior at all.
I asked her if she has things inside of her that are bothering her. She just looked at me, crying of course. I then explained to her that mom sometimes goes to a counselor to talk about things that are inside of me and I just don’t know how to get out. And that when I talk to the counselor she’s not allowed to tell anyone else what I’ve said unless I tell her I’m going to hurt myself. She seemed interested in this. So I told her that if she ever feels like she wants to talk to someone like that, that we will find someone and she can go.
I told her she could keep the silverware she had already collected, but that it all had to be washed before she played with it again. She seemed very upset at the thought of losing it. I told her she cannot collect anymore though because it’s unsanitary and she could pick up colds and sickness from someone else’s silverware. She then asked if she could collect it if they hadn’t used it. I told her I’d think about it.
This behavior has me worried.
I’m taking a break between bathing dogs and thought I’d post. I started the lithium yesterday morning. 450mgs twice a day, plus 10mgs of lexapro once a day, and .5mgs of klonopin three times a day. They also gave me 100mgs of trazadone at night for sleep.
I have taken the lithium and lexapro correctly. I took one klonopin yesterday, when I felt I needed it. And the lithium makes me sleepy so the trazadone hasn’t been necessary yet. So far, so good. It’s not making me depressed or suicidal. I don’t know if it’s helping stabilize me, but I don’t feel like I’m about to flip out. That could be the klonopin though.
The lithium scares me a little. My thyroid already does not work properly and that is one area that lithium effects. The new doc said that it shouldn’t affect it any more than what is already being treated simply because it is already being treated with medication. I don’t know if that makes much sense to me, but as long as they keep an eye on things I’m willing to give it a try.
Also, my other option for meds was depakote. He told me flat out that I would gain a lot of weight in a short amount of time with depakote and because of my weight issues already he really hesitated to do that to me. Once he feels I’m stable, we will address (if need be) something other than lithium. But he felt that I needed to come down…fast. And according to him, only lithium or depakote would do that. Who knows? All I can do is wait and see.
Finally, finally I fell asleep. Only to be woke by the ringing telephone, my sis-in-law wanted to chat. So, of course, now I can’t sleep again. And it’s too late to take a sleeping pill if I want to be able to get my kids to school in the morning. I can’t really fault her, it wasn’t even 10 pm when she called. It just disgusts me that this seems to happen every time I think I’m going to be able to sleep. Anyway…
I decided to watch a movie. An oldie but a goodie (I like thrillers and horror movies), Fatal Attraction. Now here’s the weird and strange part, I found myself empathizing with the psycho played by Glenn Close. From her opening frame you can see just how crazy this woman is, there is simply no hiding it. And I was prepared to hate her and root for her death as usual. But as the movie went on I could see myself in parts of this deeply disturbed woman. Now I’m not going to boil bunnies to death or anything like that, don’t call 911 just yet.
But when she flips out because he jumps out of bed to leave her, I could see how she was just begging to be loved. She slept with him to please him. She cooked for him. She romped in the park with him and his dog. She built this huge fantasy that he loved her and she fulfilled him and he just used her, was finished, and was ready to go. He was heartless and cruel to her. She slit her wrists before he left and instead of taking her to the hospital, he bandaged her up and took care of her for the night. Gives her hope that he cares for her. If he were a less selfish bastard, he would have owned up to his actions, recognized her scream for help, and gotten her to a doctor who would have recognized her mental illness.
But, like a man (sorry guys) he was more interested in looking out for himself. If he sought medical attention, he would have had to come clean about cheating on his wife…maybe. So instead, he lets her believe he cares and goes on his way. Do I think he got what he deserved? Yep. He got caught. Now his family didn’t deserve the fallout from his infidelity, but the bad guy in this movie is really the cheating bastard. He started the ball rolling and didn’t man up enough to stop it. As a result his completely innocent wife and daughter were both put in danger and the poor crazy woman ended up dead.
This sympathizing with the psycho really has me freaked out a little here. But then I watched some of the special features. Glenn Close talks about how she took the script to two separate psychiatrists and asked if this behavior was possible and why someone would be this way. What did she find out? This woman’s personality is that of someone who had been sexually abused even before memory had formed. Well gee there’s a lightbulb moment. No wonder I’m thinking the psycho isn’t the bad guy. All of these feelings tumbling around inside of me (loneliness, despair, grief, love, hate, rage, and others) are exactly what she was displaying to a maxed out degree of course.
And the kicker…this may have put me right over the edge…is that the ending where Glenn Close comes to their home and attacks them and ends up dead is not the original ending. It’s the ending Hollywood made to make the movie more “accessible.” The true ending to the movie, revealed in the special features, is that Glenn Close commits suicide after Michael Douglas attacks her for kidnapping his daughter. When he just stops mid-attack, backs away, and leaves without a word you could see the complete rejection destroy her. She then kills herself in such a way that he is later arrested for her murder. This ending would have definitely fit more with the mental illness and the abuse victim MO, and like I said sent me right over the edge. I would probably be typing this from the mental ward. They did show clips of the original ending, but it lost its dramatic effect.
I think this is one movie that might be on the do not watch list for a while. Who’d have thought a movie about a guy cheating on his wife and being stalked would trigger me? Not I. But I am definitely one big nerve right now. I hope I’m not stuck watching Disney movies for the next year just to avoid dangerous emotions.
do you look at me?
what do you see?
or what’s beneath?
I don’t know me.
How can you?
I’m twisted inside.
Tangled and confused.
I don’t know
who or what I really am.
I don’t know
what I want.
Do you know
my heart’s desire?
Tell me. Tell me.
Give me the answers.
I’ll tell you a secret.
Sometimes I feel dead.
Sometimes I just feel.
Out of control.
I wish…I wish…
But hope is cruel.
I wish…I wish…
I wish I could just be numb.
In my last post I talked about how let down I felt by my husband. To sum up the situation, I had therapy which is always difficult and trying for me. I needed him to get the kids home from the bus after school and just be there to help me through the chaos after I got home. Instead, he chose to go chase cows around a fenced in pasture. To be fair, he did make arrangements for the kids to be picked up, even if I believe that they were, to be nice, less than ideal. Okay, forget nice, the arrangements he made sucked. First, he asked my elderly neighbor to go to the bus stop. Not a good solution when you consider that her balance is so bad that when she walks it looks like she’s limping and it was snowing/raining all day. The second solution involved my cousin picking them up (I babysit her children so they were on the bus with mine). Now she did manage to get to the bus stop, but it was within seconds of the bus pulling up and she had to rush and break speed limits in bad weather to do so. It worked out, I was stressed after therapy anyway, and then almost pushed over the edge by these arrangements. Not to mention the fact that I had to deal with the after school chaos and dance class preparation on my own.
Have we been in this situation before? Yes. I have therapy every two weeks. Most times, I can get an appointment that puts me home before the kids, but I still need him around to help me with the after school stuff. Has there been circumstances where I have needed him and he totally blew it off? Yes. Many times. Although, to be fair, he has been much more supportive since this latest round of therapy has begun.
So what is really my problem? Yes, I told him what I needed and expected him to follow through with what he agreed to do. He did try, sort of, in his man way to follow through while actually giving someone else the responsiblity. Yes, it sucks. But it’s not completely unexpected. He tends to not think things through or look at them from my perspective. And even if he did, could he really begin to contemplate how I see things? I don’t think he realizes how difficult it is for me to tell him what I need or how important it is to follow through exactly as we have outlined. Sudden changes send my control issues rocketing toward meltdown, especially sudden changes that I find to be inadequate. But he does try. Can a person ask for more than that?
My therapist made the comment to me on Friday that she is surprised that I can care for anyone. I have shut down to escape what happened to me. I’m, apparently, great at talking about anything and everything but myself. (That comment bothered me.) But, I can and do care for a lot of people. My fears are based in the fact that I feel no one cares about me unless I’m doing something for them. The big question is why am I so hurt and let down by people that I think only care about me for what I can do for them?
How did my husband even get close enough to cause me this kind of hurt? Not everyone can. My mother can. My grandmother can about 1/2 of the time. My children, whom I love with ever fiber of my being, do not hold the power to cause that kind of hurt. I think this is, in part, due to the fact that I have felt their unconditional love and in part that I have no expectation of them taking care of me. I am the mother, it is my job to take care of them. But there is no one I love more or hold closer to my heart and soul than my children. I think the only way they could hurt me would be complete rejection and isolation from them. And that’s just not happening. Hell, I almost expect my daughter to start hating my guts any day now. And I think I’m okay with that. She’s supposed to, growing pains and all that. She’ll love me again when she’s done, but even that hasn’t begun yet. Okay tangent on my children finished.
As I was saying, my mother and sometimes my grandmother have the power to cause me hurt and disappointment. And my husband. Where did he get this power? Did I give it to him? Can I take it back? I hate the fact that I’m vulnerable to another person, to their emotions and moods. And yet, isn’t that a normal thing? To love and be loved in return. Doesn’t that mean you have to open up to hurt? Do I want to live without feeling the love that I have for him or the love he has for me? Can I ever just be satisfied in the moment of happiness I get from being with him? More to the point, can I focus on the good and supportive things he does for me all the time and let go of the times he screws up?
He’s not superman and I shouldn’t expect him to be. So, why then does it feel like every time he messes up it erases 100 good things he’s done? Why can’t I think of the good things? Do they mean so little to me when I crave them so much? Or am I just so used to being pushed a side and not given consideration and care that those are the only things I can see? I just don’t know about me sometimes. I give myself a headache.
I think this is definitely conflict at it’s finest.