Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Welcome Life

Welcome life...

Welcome the day with open arms, with a grateful heart and it will be a good and productive day.

Welcome the challenges, the obstacles, as being necessary, and they will strengthen rather than stop you.

Welcome the opinions and perspectives of others, especially if they differ from yours, and your own perspective will grow more valuable.

Accept what is, and you will increase your ability to do, make or have whatever you wish. Live as though there is possibility for good in every circumstance, and you'll discover that there is indeed.

Welcome and celebrate life in all its ups and downs. Relish the cold, dark days just as enthusiastically as the bright, warm ones. Find as much value in the defeats and mistakes as in the victories and successes.

The majesty of the sunrise would not occur without the darkness of the night. Effort would be impossible without rest, and likewise rest without effort. Seeking only a select portion of life serves to diminish it all. Embrace the world in all its fullness and delight in the experience of being thoroughly alive.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Wishes

On Friday when I checked the mail I received the shock of my life. In the mail amongst all the bills, junk flyers, and other things I found a simple envelope addressed to me in handwriting I did not recognize from a country I have never been to.

It piqued my interest immediately, so before waiting till I walked back to my house (damn I miss door to door mail!!) to open it, I decided to rip it open right then and there. My impulsiveness is something that I am going to have to learn how to control; such is the lesson I was to learn.

Inside this envelope was a letter from a Soldier in Iraq that was in the same base camp as my Boyz. He was never sent out of the camp, for reasons unknown to me, so as he went on to explain, letters and memento’s and other important things were always left in his safe keeping to send home to loved ones in case the men that did get sent out of the relative safety of the base camp didn’t make it back.

He told me how sorry he was for my loss of Mark, T, J, D, & M and then said how sorry he was for not having the ability to forward this letter to me sooner. He told me about all the talks he had engaged in with all my Boyz and reminisced about some of the stories they told him about all of the crazy things we all did together. He reminded me that I was loved and cared for and that my pain was not solitary in its existence.

Inside the envelope from this kind Soldier was another envelope folded in half with just my name & address written on it. As soon as I saw the writing on that envelope I knew who it was from. My heart almost stopped. I started to cry and shake and then I realized that I felt like I was going to pass out. I hit the ground with a thud on a neighbor’s front lawn and just sat there staring at this seemingly innocent white piece of paper that had somehow traveled to me.

I received a letter from Mark.

In this letter Mark told me how proud of me he was. How proud of me he had always been. He told me that the best memories of his life included me, no matter how horrifying the reason for me being there. He told me that he never truly understood the word LOVE until I arrived in New York 5 days after 9/11 out of the blue because I couldn’t get a hold of him and simply sat in his office at work until someone finally found him and told him to come in immediately. He told me that he admired my strength and my ability to just know what needed to be done and doing it during that heartbreaking time. He reminisced about some of our earliest times together. He talked about all the places we had been together, all the places we wanted to go together and made me promise to take him to those places when I go. He told me that he didn’t want to leave me and that he didn’t want to die. He apologized over and over for doing both of those things, because if I was reading this letter, he was gone. He told me what I already knew, that I was the executrix of his estate and that the majority of life’s little things, he left to me in his will. He asked me to keep his treasures safe and to use them in my life to grow and evolve. He reminded me about the balloon oath we all made one day when we were hiking in the mountains and suddenly saw this brilliant red balloon float by. It looked like an angel was carrying it with the way the sunlight and clouds were formed around it. He asked me to promise to bring him home and let him eternally rest at The Rock. He told me that I will forever be loved and cherished and that I will always be watched over and guided by him because he is in my heart and soul, just as I am in his. He asked me to forgive him for joining the military after 9/11.

~That decision was our first real fight in almost 20 years of friendship. We were both screaming at each other near the end of it. Something in me knew that if he got sent to hell he wouldn’t come home from it. I begged him not to go. I begged them all not to go. I am now left with the eternal knowledge that my intuition was correct and the numbing loss of my 5 dearest truest friends~

He asked me to remember everything I have learned through life and through his guidance into all things that are enlightening. He reminded me that though I may be learning something I may not understand at the moment, there will come a time that I will need that knowledge. He asked me to rely on my instincts and to keep my heart open. He told me that I am the dearest friend his heart has ever known and that I was a blessing to him and his family. He told me that I am cherished and treasured, that I am valued and respected, and that I am deserving of happiness. He then left me with a final piece of advice, which I am still amazed at. Even when he wasn’t HERE with me, he was still always here with me. He always knew what my heart and soul needed to hear. He left me one final moment of clarity before he told me that he loves me dearly and signed his name with an “xoxo” underneath and finished the letter.

And where might you be headed?
To a place of UNDERSTANDING.
To a knowingness
of your importance, INFINITE;
of your reach, IMMEASURABLE;
of your power, UNLIMITED;
of your worth, INCALCULABLE.

Only when pressed with darkness, can you begin to seek the light. And how could you understand your authority… if you had not first relinquished it? How could you find your way, if you had not first strayed? Now, your experiments with darkness, limits, and fear have long outgrown their use. It’s time to wake up… to remember… to know… that

YOU ARE FAR MORE
than the role you’ve been playing.

YOU ARE

the light,
the power,
the way...
For whom
ALL THINGS
are possible.

As I mentioned in an earlier blog, I have been in close contact with T & J’s family. They still want me to come to the funeral on the 28th but I have officially declined their invite, though I appreciate the kindness in which the offer was extended, I have no wish to put myself through another Italian funeral. T & J’s dad has promised to send me their ashes so I can fulfill their wishes and the promises I made to them. D & M’s family has also promised to do the same. My locket should be ready in early July which means I will be able to keep them all close to my heart as I take them to where they want to be.

Lance is a little angry about me needing to do this road trip to The Rock alone. He is doubly concerned and adamant that he should come with me now that I am pregnant. I have promised him that I will respect my body’s limitations, and if that means I cannot hike to the top of the Angel Glacier but only walk to an area just off the parking lot and into the meadow before the hiking trail starts, so be it, I will only go that far. He wants to come with me and has promised to remain out of the way ~ which is impossible to do in a car. Am I wrong in demanding my final alone time with my dearest friends? Am I wrong in my final decision to go alone? I know deep within my soul that I will need every moment of the trip to remember them all in all the ways they have touched my life. I will need every moment of the trip to cry and wail and laugh and simply grieve. I don’t want to share my loss. I dont want to have to explain what I am thinking or relive my memories outloud because I will feel forced to include him. He has never met them, he doesn’t know them. To me it feels like I would be bringing a complete stranger on a final heartbreaking trip down memory lane. It feels like interference. It makes me feel angry. It makes me feel guilty for being angry because I know he is just trying to care for me.

T & J’s dad has decided to honor his Sons wishes and have this beautiful piece read at their funeral. I am quite proud of him for making that decision, as I know he is a devout Roman Catholic and this is going quite against the grain. It is his way of showing a final respectful tribute to the beautiful, brilliant Men he raised.

"...supremely happy, in a "place" of profound and unspeakable beauty. A place where all are bathed in showers of unconditional LOVE. I am home, and before long, you will be too, and we will be together always. But until we embrace again, let me also share this with you... so that you can better understand those things that may trouble you the most:

I now know that the love I feel here was at all times on earth too, and all one must do in order to feel it, is to KNOW it is there. This love that shines on you now is there to comfort and console, to heal and restore, and to bring laughter and joy. You have set lofty goals for yourself and the challenges you've chosen are admirable, but with this love and the faith that you can do all things, even these noble callings will one day soon be little more than baby steps in your march to gaining dominion over every time-space illusion. You will prevail. Your dreams, as well as the obstacles placed on your path, are gifts given you so that you might sooner see this Light that now surrounds you.

Of these gifts, my parting was one. You need not be sad, for even now I am with you - though you must close your eyes to see me. The illusion of death presses one on to greater understandings, for only when faced with darkness can you begin to properly seek the light. A light that will reveal that there can be no endings, goodbyes, or sadness, without beginnings, reunions, and happiness, and that you and I are unlimited Beings of Light adventuring throughout creation so that we may rediscover the magnificence of our own divinity. We are Gods rolling like thunder through the heavenly landscapes of eternity, where there are only miracles, there is only love, and Everything is holy.

Before you on earth there remain infinite possibilities for the most fulfilling time of your life, in a universe conspiring on your behalf. The world is indeed your oyster, though your "work" is not yet done, and you will be happiest if you cling not too tightly to the past. But if you must, take solace in your times of sorrow by knowing that I am always there, that I will be at your triumphant homecoming, and that I too have prepared a place for you in a blissful celebration that is only just beginning.

I love you so. I am happy."

I wish I could say that after 6 months of dealing with the grief of losing mark, and 1 month after losing T, J, D & M that I am able to make more sense of their passing, that I am able to remember memories with the soft tranquil light of fondness and love, rather than with rage and unspeakable loss. I wish I could say that I am not angry at them for not listening to me, for having to do the “manly” thing and go blow up another countries buildings because they blew up ours. I wish I could say I understand.

…but mostly, I just wish I was with them.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Unbelievable

Ok, this is a rant, it’s my blog, and I’m gonna bitch if I wanna

Monday in group I told everyone that I was pregnant. A few people were stunned, one person more so than others. Lets call her…Pregnant with 2nd child but cant quit abusing the first one…so for short…PregoAbuser.

In the 2nd session on Monday I started talking a little more in depth about how I found out I was pregnant, what a surprise it was, how happy Lance & I were, etc. Now, this is when all the mothers in the group started popping in with child raising advice and prenatal tips. Forgive me for being a total bitch, but the LAST PEOPLE ON EARTH I am going to take parenting tips from are the mothers in this group. ALL of them have talked about depriving their children of one thing or another, and abusing them in some ways. Now, I do have a little more couth than that, so I didn’t actually say anything when they were giving me all this advice, I just smiled and nodded.

Then, a man who we’ll call the 43-year-old-virgin pipes in with this comment and it sent my blood boiling. He explains that he has never had sex, never had a relationship with anyone…poor him..wah wah wah…on with the sob story he goes, then he stops looks at me and says “you don’t deserve to have a child”

That was my first WTF moment of the week. Then the PregoAbuser pipes in with her un-logical ridiculous two cents. Now, this *deletes rude adjective* & I were “friends” in the sense that we would spend lunches together talking about mundane things and laughing. We actually got along quite well. She started a week after I did so we are in all of the same group’s together day in and day out so we have shared quite a bit of ourselves and worked really hard and well together. So, she came at me with “I am so jealous that you are pregnant. I don’t know where you get off trying to take away MY spotlight as being the one carrying a child in here. Who do you think you are?!?” and I was like WTF!!!!! I am still enraged at the 43-year-old-virgin and his bullshit and now this *deletes rude adjective* dumps her shit on me too!?!?

I know you are all thinking at this point “oooooooooooooooh this is where Kris snaps and bitchslaps them both” *grinz wickedly* but I actually took the higher road. I actually looked at them both and as my brain was thinking “fuck you…fuck you…fuck you” I said to the 43-year-old-virgin “I am sorry that you feel the need to belittle others to feel powerful and important while you attempt to deny that what you never received is a loss in your life.” And then I looked at the PregoAbuser and said “I am sorry that your small narrow minded world cannot actually contain the idea that there is more than one set of ovaries on the planet that have the ability to procreate.”

Cathy, the therapist in the group was taking a sip of Tea (she has strep throat so needs the stuff to make her able to talk) when I said those things, and while the rest of the room went “holy crap”, she ended up spitting it everywhere. (I guess that’s why we aren’t allowed to drink in sessions *smiles sweetly*)

So, that was Monday.

Tuesday I found out all the news from my OB.GYN that I posted about yesterday. I took that information back into group on Wednesday at which point I received more “parenting tips” of what the same women did when they found out they were giving birth to alien spawn (because lets face it, their conditions were made to sound sooo much worse than mine …ya know?) and that they had actually been impregnated by a toilet seat that was used in a shuttle to mars…(can you sense the sarcasm? *lol*)…and then the PregoAbuser said “I can’t believe you are even thinking of keeping it. You should get an abortion immediately” (which makes that my third WTF moment of the week for any that are counting) and FINALLY Setna was in the room to hear this bullshit. She looked at PregoAbuser and said “There is no need for you to be crass and arrogant. You are not by any stretch of the imagination a good parent and to be honest, the same advice you just gave Kris should’ve been given to you”

I almost died. The entire room went DEAD silent. PregoAbuser starts to cry and sputter and go into her “sobbing for attention in an attempt to manipulate people” routine and Setna tells her if she cant get her un-genuine emotions under control NOW she will be discharged from the treatment program immediately following Large Group. Then Setna looks at me, and I was thinking “ohh crap, here it comes” and she actually surprised me. She said “Kris, what I am going to offer you is something very unorthodox and not used often within this treatment program, but I am offering you my support for whatever you may need through this troubling trying time for you. If you ever need to talk to someone, you can come and knock on my door and I will help you work through whatever emotion you are feeling privately so your decision will not be made on judgments of the people you are in treatment with. I am also extending my support to you for your entire pregnancy and the first year after you have your child. You will undergo alot of changes after you leave this program and I want you to know that you have someone in your corner that understands.” I broke down and started to sob.

Setna talked me through what I was feeling at that moment, which was pure unadulterated rage. I flat out told the 43-year-old-virgin and the PregoAbuser that they have officially ceased to exist to me. (I can tune out anyone that I do not wish to associate with. I am a Norwegian Gemini and I KNOW how to harness the bitch in me and utilize her to the best of my ability….some of you may already know this *smiles sweetly*) I told them both that I will from here on out no longer speak with them at breaks or during group sessions. I have no further desire to hear anything they have to say about any area of my life and if they could not control themselves by commenting that their comments would be ignored and I would simply talk over them. I was PISSED. Setna looks at me and says “Is there a better way to handle this?” and I sat and thought about it for a few minutes and finally replied with “No, anyone that would be that calculatingly cruel to me in the ‘real world’ would be annexed and banished from my life in the same way. I don’t need friends like that. I don’t need people in my life like that. I don’t think there is a better way to deal with it.” Setna then gave me my 2nd shock of the day by agreeing with me.

That brings us to today.

Sitting in group, all of us were in an active conversation about our family interviews, and I was working hard with another girl named Chris about what I had learned from mine and why I felt it was of value. Her interview with her current family (which is whoever you live with) was today at 3 pm and she was understandably nervous and scared. Her boyfriend doesn’t treat her well and he was really making her feel bad about having to take time off work to come in and do something he feels is ridiculous. She wouldn’t acknowledge that his comments hurt her until I said “if Lance said that to me when I told him about the interview I would’ve been crushed” and then the PregoAbuser storms into the conversation with “ohh for fuck sake, I am so tired of hearing about your perfect relationship. If it was so perfect your baby wouldn’t be trying to kill itself to get away from you both”.

Now, keep in mind that I had just finished telling Chris that Lance & I don’t communicate very well at times because we have 2 very different styles of communicating which makes determining compromise and/or getting our needs met very difficult…I had just finished telling Chris (and everybody else in the bloody room) that Lance & I aren’t perfect and that we do have work to do and that the interview was for us, a fabulous starting point.

Brandy, the therapist, looks at PregoAbuser, looks at me, looks back at her and says “ok, was that necessary?” because though her remark hurt me, I have made no effort to address her or even acknowledge that I have heard it. And then much to my shock and surprise Ms.Toxic jumps in and verbally berates PregoAbuser until she is once again sobbing hysterically. (that makes for my fifth WTF moment of the week just to keep count)

During Game Time today I was playing the card game "spades" with P, D & R, (3 of the best people I have ever met) and we were laughin and jokin around and having a really good time…which is the whole entire point of the Games Hour on Thursdays. It teaches us how to enjoy simply PLAYING again. PregoAbuser and the 43-year-old-virgin are sitting behind our table not playing anything, they are just pouting. Then the 43-year-old-virgin says “I don’t find any of your jokes funny, would you please shut up” and PregoAbuser says “yea, I agree” (big surprise) which starts the entire room to join in the uproar of the one sided fight. They are all defending me. I finally said “ok, guys, really, enough. Nothing they say means anything to me. I appreciate the support, but you don’t need to treat them the way I am just because they are being assholes” and every one starts to laugh again which send the 2 pouters into serious rage. The 43-year-old-virgin is due to be released from the program Friday June 30. His discharge came a little early. He picked up the chair he was sitting on and threw it at me. (and yes, you guessed it, this is my 6th WTF moment). Noel, the therapist, immediately jumps to his feet and smacks the button on the wall that sets off an alarm and alerts security IMMEDIATLEY that something is wrong in psychiatry (kind of a handy thing to have when you are dealing with all kinds of mental problems) and I hit the ground screaming because the chair caught me right in the stomach and because it freekin hurt. Mary-Anne, the nurse, comes running down the hallway with all the other therapists right behind her, and they carry me into an exam room and check my blood pressure, pulse, and do an abdominal exam to make sure I am not cramping or anything else.

I am going to press charges against the 43-year-old-virgin, as is my right to do so. I cannot physically do anything to him, but I can make him pay for it. *smiles sweetly*

The PregoAbuser was told by Setna that if she cannot control her mouth that she would be removed from the program. She is interfering with people’s ability to work together and Setna will not allow that to continue. She has to apologize in large group tomorrow to everyone for being intentionally destructive and deeply cruel and if she doesn’t she will be discharged immediately. I hope she does apologize, she needs the therapy program (just like the rest of us) and she would not fare well with her children if she doesn’t learn some things about herself before she leaves.

…what a week and it’s not even over…

I called my OB.GYN and told him that I had been hit with a chair, he asked me if I was cramping or feeling anything else and I said “no” because I am not. I feel just like I felt yesterday…bloated and squishy.

Today I learned the true meaning of pain. My ankles have finally swelled to the point where they are actually folding over. The only shoe I can put on is a pair of flip flops that I have stretched to the absolute limit. No support in those stupid shoes, but at least they are shoes. Today I learned that climbing stairs with ankles that swollen will make you scream in pain and cry your eyes out. I truly wholeheartedly don’t know if I can do 9 months of this. I have a fairly high pain tolerance and this is beginning to push me past my limits and I am only 6 freekin weeks pregnant.

Something mean and wicked in me wants to place a call to Social Services to have PregoAbuser’s home life looked at. She accidentally told me her last name one day, and I know the town where she lives…it cant be that hard to find her….but….that would be stooping to her level, and while it gives me extreme pleasure to think about, doing it would probably make me feel like a hag. Some things are better left as fantasy. Besides, if there was "notable" child abuse the therapists would've already made that phone call. (and by notable I mean actionable by the authorities)

I have been trying to assess my part in all of this drama since it started on Monday. For the life of me I cannot see a place where I provoked them into cruelty, other than what I said to them on Monday in the 2nd session of the day, but they were already angry and cruel at that point, so I didn’t really provoke them there. I wish I could see this from a different perspective. Right now I am too emotionally attached to it to try and view it from an analytical viewpoint and learn something from it.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Before You Plan A Baby Shower...

Now for the big news. Lance & I are pregnant!

Before you plan a baby shower....you may want to continue to read...*sighs*

While we are both happy & nervous, the baby seems to be in some danger. I have put on over 60 pounds of WATER in the past 5 weeks. I have HEAVY Edema which my O.B.GYN is very concerned about, because it will more than likely turn into Pre-Eclampsia (Toxemia for pregnant women) which is life threatening to both me & my baby.

My joints are all swollen. When I squeeze my hands to make a fist my hands drip water. Walking is extremely painful because my feet are about 6 times their normal size, I cant remember the last time my toes touched the ground. My blood pressure is through the roof. My heart is beating almost 3 times its normal rate. My liver & kidneys are also starting to have difficulties. Please keep in mind that I am only (roughly) 6 weeks pregnant.

My OB.GYN has told me that I could possibly carry the baby to full term, but there is not a guarantee that the baby will be healthy. He did a vaginal ultrasound and the baby's heart beat is very faint, and the size of the baby at almost 6 weeks pregnant is quite small. He looks (how funny, the baby is already a he in my mind...) to be about 1-2 weeks, which is quite troubling.

The Dr stressed to me that the only way I will be able to carry my child to term is if I am on complete bed rest for the next 8 1/2 (give or take a day) months. Which means I would have to quit my treatment program. The DR has warned me that I will feel cramping and serious abdomen pain, which I am currently experiencing, and that if I start to spot bleed I must get to an ER immediatley. He has told me that I ultimatley have a very difficult decision to make.

His opinion is that the child is in extreme danger and is not growing at a normal rate and therefore will have some health defects, of which he cannot predict. He has told me that there is a 95% chance that I will miscarry this child. He wants me to have an abortion. I have asked for some time to think about it, so I have another appointment next Friday where I will tell him my decision.

Lance & I have talked about it, and while guilt is obviously coming into our thought process, he has flat out told me that my health & safety is his primary concern and that if carrying this child could potentially kill me then he would rather I have the procedure done and we can try again when we are ready.

This pregnancy was not planned. It was a suprise. It still doenst make it any easier. I dont know what to do about this yet. I am in a world of pain and cannot imagine 9 months of this, but yet, I cannot imagine killing our child.

This is hell.

Coming Home

The Boyz are being shipped home on Monday June 26. Why it has taken them over a month since they were killed to ship them home is beyond me, but the families & myself are ready to proceed with the funerals and I will be having my own memorial alone with them at the Rock sometime in July.

I would love to go to each of their funerals as I did with Mark, but unfortunatley they are being held on the same day in 3 different states so it is an impossibility. I am still talking with T & J's family who wants me to come to Boston to be there when their ashes are blessed...Im still debating...I think I will end up not going. I cant choose favorites between them all. M's funeral is in FL and D's is in NY...while I was closest to T (after Mark) I still feel guilty as hell for choosing him over the others.

I think my memorial with the crazy drive through all the weird towns and hiking one last time to the top of Angel Glacier and then finally hiking down and into Maligne Canyon is the most fitting tribute I can do for all of them. I have decided to keep a little part of all their ashes. I am going to make a 5 peice heart shaped locket which I can keep their ashes in and wear to keep them with me all the time. A silver craftsman, who happens to be a great friend of mine, is creating it as we speak. *smiles softly*

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

First off, let me just state one thing very loudly and very clearly.

I HATE ACTION GROUP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, here is my latest reason why.

For warm up in today’s action group we were to list one thing we were PASSIONATE about. The group listed off their things and it came around to me. I said I was passionate about traveling.

Now, for those that don’t know me all that well, traveling is a HUGE love. Road trips, plane trips, boat trips…it doesn’t matter where I am going the fun is in getting there. Some of my best memories are from traveling around the world with my Boyz, visiting all the weird and wonderful tourist things, finding not so normal things…you name it…I love culture, history, & tourists traps all the same.

After warm up Cathy (therapist) and Brandy (therapist) asked the group who wanted to do some work on whatever they picked. I didn’t say a word, I didn’t really want to work on mine, I didn’t see the need for it. Then “Ms Toxic” (who’s passion was her husband & kids) said “I would like to work on mine” so Cathy & Brandy & “Ms Toxic” started talking about what a normal day in the household is like. “Ms Toxic” described this past Sunday’s events. She had meetings with some clients in the afternoon, and before she left the house she had started the laundry and had asked her husband to change it over into the dryer when it was done. She came home 4 hours later and the laundry hadn’t been changed over. She got pissed off at her husband, so she threw a quiet fit (slamming the door of the dryer, etc.) to show her unhappiness and her husband just continued to watch nascar on tv, drink beer and eat chips like no one was home. She then took out her laptop computer and started to finish a presentation for the clients she was just working with all afternoon. When he went upstairs to go to bed, she asked him to take stuff up with him. He took his empty cans and dishes upstairs. He didn’t touch the heaping full laundry basket that was right in front of the stairs. She threw another quiet fit, and carried it upstairs herself (she has a very bad back and arthritis so heavy things are hard for her to handle) and proceeded to put away all the laundry before going to bed.

So, there’s the basis for the skit. With one messed up twist, I mean c’mon, this is psychotherapy, nothing can be easy *sighs*. Ms Toxic was to play her husband in the drama, and she had to nominate someone to play her. This is where I come into the picture. She picked me. Everyone in the room laughed because they all know the history of fighting with her that I have. I just went “awww crap” (in my mind...not outloud) because I HATE ACTING and tried to remember everything she had said she did.

The skit starts with me coming in the “door”, putting my purse and briefcase down, and walking “downstairs” to the basement to see my “husband” sitting in the chair watching TV. I went into the “laundry room” to check the dryer to see if stuff was dry for me to start folding, and then I realize he hadn’t changed it from the washing machine yet. I changed the laundry over to the dryer and “slammed” the dryer door by picking up the chair that was the “laundry room” and banging it on the floor and I heaved a huge sigh. I then walked into the other room where my “husband” was watching TV and didn’t say a word to him, I just glared at him and muttered under my breath and sighed some more. I picked up my “laptop” (aka my backpack *lol*) and started pounding on the keys. My "husband" still hasn’t said a word to me, and I haven’t said a word to him even though we have been apart the whole day. (I looked over at Ms Toxic at this point and she was sobbing quietly). I got up and took the laundry out of the dryer and started folding it (I used Kleenex as something to fold) and I put it in the laundry basket which I left right in front of the “stairs”. My “husband” then got up and said “I am going to bed” and started to walk “upstairs” and I stopped him by saying “please take some of this stuff with you” so he came back and grabbed his cans and dishes and made a huge production of leaping over the heaping full laundry basket before going “upstairs”.

Cathy then stopped the skit and asked us all to pull our chairs into a circle. Ms Toxic was sobbing, I was angry, the rest of the room was quiet. Brandy then asked me how it felt to “be” Ms Toxic. I said it wasn’t all that uncomfortable, because for the longest time, that is how I went about getting my needs/wants met. I would slam around and heave sighs left and right instead of asking someone for help. Cathy looked at me, smiled, and said “so, instead of asking someone to show you some care, you felt you needed to act out and ruin the chance of a positive interaction?”…and I couldn’t answer the question…because that is EXACTLY what I used to do.

Brandy then asked Ms Toxic what it was like to “be” her husband and see things from his perspective. Ms Toxic said she was pissed off at me for portraying her so badly and for over dramatizing things. I was shocked, ok, not really, but I was surprised she actually got mad about it. Cathy asked her why she was mad at me when to all accounts, I acted out word for word what she said. I didn’t say a word. Ms Toxic then said “well, things aren’t like that!!” which is messed up because that’s what she told us they were like *bangs head*

Ms Toxic then goes on to say she is still pissed off at her husband because she feels he should simply see the things that need doing and do them. She shouldn’t have to ask him to. She shouldn’t have to demand for help. She shouldn’t have to beg for affection. Cathy then asked “when did your husband become a mind reader?” and to that Ms Toxic had no logical reply.

I jumped back in and said “ok, this I can relate to. As I said earlier, I used to act like Ms Toxic, I used to feel so angry that my needs and wants weren’t being met, I used to act out my anger in ways that were unhealthy and counter productive to getting what I really wanted/needed. I am making an effort now, and it, for me, has to be a completely focused conscious effort, to ask people for what I need/want from them. The hardest part for me in accepting this is that I somehow feel that the love and care I want from that person is being diminished because I have to ASK for it. If he really loved me, if he really cared about me, he would just DO these things. Wrapping my brain around the fact that my partner is not a mind reader and does not know exactly what I want or need has been a struggle. But it has been a worthwhile struggle. I am now learning that I really do only have to ask for what I need/want once and then he will simply volunteer to do things because he knows that I appreciate his efforts and value his help.”

Brandy & Cathy both beamed huge “I am so proud of you” smiles at me. Ms Toxic sputtered in her self twisted ridiculous indignation and said “was I supposed to learn something from that?” and at that point all I could do was attempt to be the bigger person. I have made an oath to myself that I will not allow her to wind me up anymore. I will not allow her to demean or diminish me anymore. So, in keeping with the promise I made to myself, I simply looked at her, smiled, and said thank you for allowing me to work with you on this Ms Toxic, I have learned something today, and I have reaffirmed for myself that I am now on a path toward healthier relationships.”

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Game Three Prayer

Well hockey fans, the puck is set to drop on Edmonton’s Rexall Place Ice in 35 minutes. It is game three of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The *deletes explicitly rude words* Carolina Hurricanes *gags* won both of the previous two games. *dry heaves*

BUT!! now Our Boys are home and surrounded by fans that love them. That’s gotta help. So, in keeping with that, here is a special game three prayer…*grinz* Let us bow our heads and keep the faith. WE BELIEVE!!!!! GO OILERS GO!!!!!!

Our Father, who art in Rexall,

Hockey be thy name.

Thy will be done, the Cup be won,

On ice, as well as in the stands.

Give us this day our hockey sticks,

and forgive us our penalties,

as we forgive those who cross-check against us.

Lead us not into elimination

But deliver us to victory.

In the name of the fans, Lord Stanley,

and the holy Oilers.

Amen

GO OILERS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, June 6, 2006

Sarah

My name is Sarah
I am but three,
My eyes are swollen
I cannot see,

I must be stupid,
I must be bad,
What else could have made
My daddy so mad?

I wish I were better,
I wish I weren't ugly,
Then maybe my Mommy
Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all,
I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up
The whole day long.

When I awake I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home.

When my Mommy does come
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just
One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse
My name he calls
I press myself
Against the wall.

I try and hide
From his evil eyes
I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry.

He finds me weeping
He shouts ugly words,
He says its my fault
That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And I run for the door.

He's already locked it
And I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues
With more bad words spoken.

"I'm sorry!" I scream
But its now much too late
His face has been twisted
Into unimaginable hate.

The hurt and the pain
Again and again
Oh please God, have mercy!
Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops
And heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor.

My name is Sarah
And I am but three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.

Should THIS be a movie!?

Lance & I were checking movie times tonite and I came across this trailer for a release on August 9, 2006.
Click here to view: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0469641/trailers

I truly dont know what to feel about it. The trailer says its going to look at the tragedy from a different point of view, from a few of NYC's bravest, BUT part of me still wants to scream in outrage.

I watched this trailer and all I could imagine was Mark's mom ~ who was like my second mom throughout my entire life who died in 9/11 ~ lying under a pile of rubbish watching the light fade away as she began to die. Her body was finally recovered almost 11 months AFTER the incident. I tried to imagine, before I saw this trailer, that she went immediately and peacefully. That there was obviously moments of great fear and pain, but that they were swift. Those images are blurry now.

I am somewhat also disappointed on the release date of August 9. They should've released it on Sept 11 to honor those who gave their lives unwillingly in the attack, and willingly to help save others.

This horror is still a very raw spot with me. The ensuing mess that has taken the rest of my self created family away from me because of these attacks are playing over and over in my mind.
I know one thing, I will see this movie. I was in NYC on Sept 15. 4 days after the tragedy, I took a train, a bus, and hitch hiked like a maniac to get there...thank god for the Red Cross Van that stopped to pick me up is all I gotta say.... I was with Mark & the Boyz in ground zero doing whatever I could do to help along with the rest of the city. I helped Mark plan his mothers funeral. I helped Mark pack his apartment and carried a leather hide-a-bed couch 15 blocks to the moving van (that was the closest the Home Guard would allow a vehicle because he lived very close to the WTC). I found Mark a new house outside of Manhattan, decorated it, organized it, and made it a home for him. I watched my best friend fall apart every minute of every day that his mom was missing. I watched the firefighters try to do their jobs with broken hearts. I helped the Red Cross by pulling DNA from body parts found in the wreckage so people could be identified and so families could have SOMETHING to bury. I listened to countless families and friends tell stories of their loved ones and watched as hope slowly died.

I truly dont know what to think. I am sobbing my guts out. This is just becoming too much. I dont think I can bounce back from losing EVERYONE I love dearly. This is killing me.
http://www.worldtradetribute.com/index.htm

Monday, June 5, 2006

Let Us Pray *grinz*

Let us pray.
In the name of The Pronger, The Pisani, The Horcoff and Stoll.
Our Oilers, Who art in Edmonton,
Hallowed be thy Team,
Thy Sharks they come,
Thy deed be done,
In Anaheim as twas in Detroit.
Give us this win,
Shutout by Roloson,
And forvive us our neutral ice turnovers,
As we punish those who turn over against us,
And lead us not unto the links,
As we've lead those who played before us.
Mac Tavish, Huddy, and Lowe
In the name of The Pronger, The Pisani, The Horcoff and Stoll.
Amen.




GO OILERS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Friday, June 2, 2006

Guilt

Over the past few days I’ve been struck with the realization that I seek “Father Figures” in my relationships with people (men in particular) but I also choose the more nurturing, outwardly caring, “mothering” women to get close to as well. I am becoming conscious of all the times I willingly gave up my sense of self to someone else. I am becoming conscious of every decision I wanted to make, but never did, allowing someone else to take “control”. I am also becoming VERY aware of my lifestyle choices and WHY I have chose to live the life I do.

Today in one of the sessions the topic was GUILT. The warm up was to describe how you interpret guilt, how you do or don’t use guilt, and what your experience with guilt is. I answered with “The first word that comes to mind is manipulation. I manipulate other people to feel guilt, and I manipulate myself to NOT feel it” The rest of the group went around and indicated how they feel and then the group got underway.

As the conversation was developing it came around to this:

Person A said “I don’t really feel guilty for borrowing things without telling people because I always return the thing I borrowed”

I jumped into the conversation and replied with “This is like looking into a mirror with my childhood. My sister and I were always in and out of each others closets and rooms borrowing whatever we wanted without asking. We used to fight like pro- wrestlers about it. My mom actually put deadbolts on our doors to keep us out of each others rooms”

Therapist asks “So, you don’t ‘steal with the intent to return’ things anymore?

I said “well no, everything in my house is mine. I don’t need to ask permission to use any of it”(at this point I am thinking “oh how clever! I one-upped the therapist!”…I should’ve known it was my first mistake)

Person B enters the conversation and says “So you pay for all the music you have downloaded onto your mp3 player?”

I said “Umm…no. I use the free peer to peer sharing programs for that”

Therapist asks “So, why don’t you pay for music?”

I replied with “Well, then I would have to buy the CD which only has one or two good songs on it, and it would be a waste of money”

Therapist asks “So, you feel entitled to receive something someone else created for free? And you feel no guilt in downloading music?”

I replied with “Umm… maybe not entitled, but if everyone else is doing it, what’s the harm in me doing it too?”

Therapist replies with “What would you have to look at if you acknowledged that you did feel guilty for doing that?”

I then stopped and looked at him like he had three heads, all the while thinking that I have truly never felt guilty for downloading free music…I never felt guilty for having a computer that was made out of completely illegally downloaded programs, I used to brag that it was a “hacked” system that a friend of mine had put together for me…then I thought about it a little more. I did feel better about myself and my use of the computer when I bought a new hard drive in December. I remember installing Windows Office from a disk rather than a zip file and thinking about how much easier it was, and how I had all of the options it comes with. I remembered feeling like I was now using something that someone else had created in the way it was supposed to be used. At that point I entered back into the conversation.

I said “If I acknowledge that I feel guilty for misusing something then I have to acknowledge that I am dishonest, disrespectful, immoral, and really not entitled to the things I think I am”

Therapist looks at me with a smile and says “And then what?”

I look back at him and I can almost feel my facial expression go “huh?!”

Therapist finally realizes that I am working my ass off trying to understand and he asks me “Christine, what are the emotional differences between Guilt, Shame, and Remorse?”

I quickly replied the logical answer of “Guilt is the initial feeling of having done something knowingly wrong... which would lead to shame, for knowing better than to have caused yourself guilt...and then remorse out of guilt, because fundamentally that is how we feel when we've done something wrong”

Therapist smirks at me and gives a dry laugh and says “I wondered how long it would take before your brain took over again”

I look at the therapist again with a “huh?!” expression and reply with “Well, to acknowledge those feelings as valid, then I would have to admit that I truly want people to think I am honest. Not just upfront, blunt, someone that tells it like it is, uncompromising in my beliefs…but rather, someone people will say ‘yes, I know Christine, she is honest’. In acknowledging those feelings as valid, I would also have to face that I have never heard that. I have heard all the other things I mentioned, but never has someone said ‘I turn to you because you are honest’.”

Therapist asks “And how do you use these feelings in relationships?”

I look blank for a minute and then say “I don’t ask for what I need. I don’t ask for what I want. I simply take what I want and feel entitled to it. I get cold and distant until the person figures out for themselves what I need. I make people responsible for my happiness, successes, failures, everything. I transfer all responsibility of myself to someone else.”

Therapist smiles again and says “What do you feel you need or want that you have never received from someone you really wanted it from?”

I stare at him with eyes that I could feel popping out of my head and mutter “Christ, I use guilt to make people into Father Figures. I knew I manipulated people into guilt so I could always get what I wanted without me having to actually ask for it, but I didn’t realize that I was also creating a personality for them to encompass and act like when they were with me.”

Therapist then says “we have to end there, have a good weekend”

Now I am trying to figure out HOW it ALL seems to tie into Father Figures and what exactly I feel that I needed and wanted from my dad.

I know what I wanted and needed from my dad. I am now old enough to understand why it was an impossible task for him to accomplish. Understanding unfortunately does not always mean acceptance. This is where I am struggling. I always used to say “guilt is an emotion I don’t feel…I am a very hard person to make feel guilty” now the big bitchslap I recieved from irony is having the last laugh.

How do you come to terms with, accept, that you never got what you wanted? That someone never cared enough to give you what you needed?

All I’ve gotta say is I’ve still got a lot of work to do….thank god it’s the weekend…and psychotherapy still sucks.

One Year

Yesterday was one year for Lance & I. I need to tell you all about the amazing man that loves me. He supports me when I am weak, he gives me strength and courage to continue on in my search to find myself, he makes me laugh and keeps me lighthearted with his easy going relaxed way of just being. He cherishes me and allows me to feel safe in his arms and in his heart. I treasure this man. He is the best thing that has ever happened to me and he never fails in making me feel the same way. I cannot believe how the time has flown, how life has changed, and how we have grown. Thank you for everything that you give to me and all that you are. I love you so very much Lance.