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what a wierd life
05.24.04 (5:17 am)   [edit]
Well, life has certainly changed around here. It is almost surreal. A. is now over a month sober and doing well. He is, however, driving me crazy! lol

I have to get used to this person I am married to. Remember I once said that he had been high the entire time we've been together? Well, the only thing he is high on now is life and I am blown away!

Before he went into rehab he couldn't walk to the mailbox without his back hurting - now he has lost almost 30 lbs and goes to the beach every day and walks 1-2 miles - I can't keep up with him!! His energy is boundless...he is busy busy busy...he cleans, he runs errands, he has went on job interviews, he makes phone calls. When he isn't doing that he is reading or looking up things on the internet about nutrition. (He always was a fanatic about exercise and nutrition).

I admit I feel a bit neglected, I also still harbor quite a bit of anger. Al-anon and my therapist assure me that his behavior and my feelings are totally normal. Thank God! All in all, things are good - now I just have to deal with my own crap...

In other news, I landed an interview in KEY WEST! For a teaching position at an all girls school. I had a very good phone interview with the principal and she wants me to come down this Friday. My mother is going to drive down with me. The principal knows I have no teaching experience but likes me mostly because I know that Key West is like living in NYC - crowded, overpriced, and hot. I know what I'm getting into - most people think it is paradise - I know better. My family settled in Key West in the late 1800's and stayed there until 1960 something.

Until later...hugs to all..
 
Today is finally here!
05.14.04 (4:28 am)   [edit]
On my way shortly to pick up A. from rehab. He has been there for four weeks! I can't believe it has been so short a time because it has felt like years.

What do I feel today? Excited, nervous, scared, tired...so many emotions wrapped up in there - the excitement over being with this man who is the same yet new in a way is like being a kid waiting for Disney World or Christmas....I am shaking with excitement!

Luckily, the excitement outweighs the negative emotions. I have learned tools in the last 4 weeks - how to let those negatives go, how to turn them over to God, how to project happy endings.

Everyone should go to therapy, in my opinion. We are all so fucked up. I cannot describe how wonderful it is to unload the crap and actually be happy for a change! It was hard, it was painful but it was worth it. And I am not going to stop working on getting rid of all that crap - 42 years worth of crap..sigh...

I know (we know) that the hardest part is in front of us. The transition back home from being a safe place for a month is going to be challenging for him. The world is a scary scary place and even more so when you are a recovering addict.

So send us white light and love!

Hugs to everyone and thank you (you know who you are) for all of your support!
 
things are looking up
05.07.04 (6:55 am)   [edit]
A. called last night and we talked for an hour or so. He actually told me he loved me! He said he is sick and tired of the macho crap that keeps men from actually SAYING it and he is working to be able to express his feelings. How is THAT for a breakthrough?? lol

Classes start next week for summer. I am taking Film: A Look at the Seventies and International Film. Should be interesting...the classes are four hours long, twice a week - we will screen one film for two hours and then talk about it for the other two. My professor for the Seventies Film class has already put me to work researching and preparing a presentation on Vietnam. There are only 3 grad students in the class and we have to do extra work..like giving presentations.

Everyone here is headed down south for the weekend, leaving me all alone on Mother's Day....sigh...once upon a time that was all I wanted...take the kids away from me on Mother's Day!! ha ha..Now they are grown and I just want them back...

I would head over to spend the day with my man but there is no one here to watch the dogs and I really really don't want to drag them on a 4 hour trip again. Just 9 more days and HE WILL BE HOME!!

My middle son has finally set a date for his wedding! Well, they are just going to the courthouse on June 18th. The actual wedding won't be until June 18th, 2005. They are college students and just can't afford a big wedding this year. But now I have a whole year to look forward to my first child's wedding!! Oh God....I have got to lose weight before then...photos you know...eeeekkkkkkksss!

Hugs to all in blogland....
 
A letter from A.
05.06.04 (9:59 am)   [edit]
He writes:

[i]I love you, want you - today.

Tomorrow, in Oregon, we can share the beauty that will become a spiritual awakening. For you and me again.[/i]

[i]The doctor says be a mixture of Popeye and Yogi Bear.
Popeye says I am what I am (even though Olive oil is kind of ugly). Yogi Bear says, I'm just an average bear, but I can be better.

I'm sorry that I couldn't listen to you when you needed me, my disease was stronger than me. I'm sorry you hurt, I will listen to you. I'm there. If you're not happy, how can I be happy and vice versa.

World, find your own K. , she's taken.[/i]

There was apparently more to the letter but he called last night and said he found a page he forgot to put in the envelope. ha ha

Things are better now. I talk to the therapist, I talk to my fellow bloggers, I talk to my friends and my family. Mostly, I talk to A. and he talks to me. I know we still have a tough road ahead of us but I think we are going to make it. :D
 
A Letter To My Sister
05.04.04 (5:51 am)   [edit]
I went to see A. on Sunday. We had six hours and went to the beach with the dogs and had a wonderful time. He is like a different person - thinner, happier, positive, doing great.

Anyway, I am struggling along - mostly dealing with a hell of a lot of anger. A large part of the anger comes from intense jealousy that he is getting this intensive therapy while I am left here trying to deal with all this crap by myself. So, I guess my anger showed a little bit while I was with him. He didn't say anything about it at the time.

Last night he calls and says he has asked a therapist there to talk to me and she will be calling me today - a three way conversation with her, me, and him. He says I upset him by being angry with him and I don't understand addiction and 'the disease' and this woman is going to try to help me understand. Anyway, that issue is a whole other story and it pisses me off...

So, I get off the phone with him at 11:00 and lie in bed trying to sort things out. By midnight I am having a conversation with the therapist in my head. I am telling her how scared I am to even talk to him because I am afraid to upset him. She does the therapist thing...prompting me with "why?" and "how did that you make feel?" blah blah...so I get into how when he was addicted I felt safe because he needed me and couldn't leave me and now he doesn't need me anymore and I am afraid to say or do or be the wrong thing because he will leave me. and then I get into how I had babies because I thought they would always need me and never leave me.

And then, this shrink in my head, says "Why are you so afraid of people you love leaving you?". And I answered immediately, "Because my mother left me." And, M., I stopped right there. I was so shocked that that sentence came out of me. And I saw this little baby girl sitting on the floor and her mother, her WORLD, was GONE. And I started bawling, sitting there in my bed at midnight, I bawled my eyes out for the first time because my mother left me. I kept saying in my head over and over again "I was only 3, I was only 3". And I felt like that little baby right then and it was so sad, I was so sad for her.

So anyway, I let myself have a really good cry, I let myself feel every ounce of it. And then the therapist in my head said, "How come you never told her how much she hurt you?". and I said "Because then she might leave me again."

I don't know where all of that will take me. It was a good thing, I know, but I don't know how it is going to help me now. But I just wanted to tell YOU, because I know you will understand how important that was for me.

Love you,
 
a little something i wrote when my aunt died...
05.03.04 (10:52 am)   [edit]
The wall was a myriad of things – objects, photos, cut out magazine pictures, headlines, random words, scraps of fabric, and pieces of stone and glass. This was her storyboard. In some forgotten time and place she had lost herself. Did it begin after marriage? Did it begin in childhood? Or had it taken place at birth? She was misplaced, a character out of mythical time that didn’t quite fit anymore, a fairy child stolen away from the mists of the willow tree branches and forced to live in a humans made up world. Every morning she took her cup of coffee and tiptoed to the storyboard. She silently walked it from one end to the other and then from center to periphery. It was the only way she had to remind herself of who she was.

She died alone. Which is how she always felt so it seemed fitting at the time. Her family was right outside the door, holding vigil, praying to a God she had never quite been able to believe in. That was fitting too. Them praying to their God and her in that hospital bed alone. They wouldn’t understand how fitting it was. The nurse came to tell her that she had a heart attack and they had to do surgery to unclog the artery and her family was all there – where, she wondered – and that it would all be okay. Okay. Then the nurse went away and she was left alone, drifting in between gray clouds of soft gauze. She knew she was alone then and it was comforting, a familiar feeling in an alien place. Just before the bubble in her brain burst, pushing her brain violently against her brain stem and ending her life, she wondered silently to the cotton ceiling, “What happened to my story?”

If stories create us, then can we create our own story? This story is not mine, not the one I saw myself living. Where is the Jeep? The long hair? The published novels on the shelf? The book signings and the talk shows? Where are the beads and windchimes? The log cabin on a mountain overlooking the tumultuous ocean on the Oregon coast? Where are the hardwood floors and the canopy bed with the wispy fly in the breeze curtains? Where are the flowers arranged haphazardly in thrown away found again vases? Where is the gold charm bracelet that tinkles softly as I type these words that don’t seem to want to come? Where is my story? Could it be that I simply have not created it yet? Is it waiting out there? Are the muses holding on to it patiently waiting for me to come for it? I know the story. I know the story deep down in my heart. Somehow I keep forgetting to live it.
 
He is alive again!
05.03.04 (6:42 am)   [edit]
Yesterday I drove across the state to spend the day with A. He had a six hour pass. We went to the beach with the dogs and it was so wonderful.

He can walk!! He can walk farther than me without getting out of breath! I think he surprised even himself! He keeps saying he hasn't lost weight but he has! His beer gut is half the size it was, his ankles are so slim, his face is thinner, his hands are not swollen, his shorts are baggy! I couldn't believe how wonderful he looks! And he is clean and worrying over his hair - ha ha - I am just so happy to see him caring about his appearance.

And his talk is so full of positives - it was infectious. He kept saying how he feels alive again and you can feel it just being with him - he is alive again.

I am so happy to have my husband back!!
:D
 
Going to rehab today...
05.02.04 (2:43 am)   [edit]
Going to see A. at rehab today. A four and half hour drive there and another four and half hours back. It's gonna be a long day. I was going to get a motel and stay overnight but my check didn't clear the bank so I don't have enough money to get a motel. Don't ya just love banks?

He called last night and we had a very long talk. He was getting the feeling that I wanted to break up with him and wanted me to do it while he was there. ha ha...what an idiot. He says, "Did you meet someone?". OMG! I had to laugh...I said, "I barely leave the house! I am so depressed without you that I barely leave our bedroom!".

Met someone...geesh. He sounds really, really good and strong and happy. It is been a very, very, very long time since I heard him that way. He sounds excited about life.

He told me that if it weren't for fear of hurting me that he would have just killed himself with those pills. He knows he was killing himself slowing but me lying there next to him is what kept him from just downing the bottle. I can believe that...I am very surprised that he survived at all with the amount of pills he was taking.

Anyway, I don't know that I am getting any stronger but I try. He tells me to keep projecting a happy ending, that when he comes home he will carry me over the threshold and we'll start over and plan our lives together.

I want to believe so badly.....
 
This anger has got to have an outlet...
04.26.04 (9:03 am)   [edit]
I slept well last night. I went to bed at 10 pm and woke at 5 am. No waking up in the middle of the night. I was shocked when I woke up and saw the clock read 5 am. Quite proud of myself.

Later…it is 11:50 on Monday and he hasn’t called since Saturday morning. (to ask me to send him something). I am feeling like crap about it. I understand he is dealing with shit…but I also understand that he is enjoying being in the spotlight…ever the drama king he is. So why bother to call his wife real quick and say hello, I’m fine, how are you?

This is anger that I feel a lot…I felt it when he was drinking, I felt it when he was using, I felt it when I was married to the ex. Do I really want to live the rest of my life with this anger boiling inside of me. I am not real sure of anything right now, least of all the status of my marriage.
 
My emotions are all over the place...
04.26.04 (9:02 am)   [edit]
[b]April 25, 2004[/b]

Running through a lot of emotions these days. Sadness, despair, anger, jealousy, happiness, relief, shame, and more – all jumbled up inside of me and I am trying to sort them all out and get them organized. Believe it or not, I talk to my future daughter in law a lot. She is only 20 but had parents similar to mine and she lets me talk and try to sort things through.

I find myself angry mostly. I am jealous of A. that he has such a wonderful family that loves him enough to do this for him – I can’t imagine my family going to the lengths they did or spending the thousands of dollars they did. And I am jealous of the help he is getting while I sit here trying to untangle the mess of my life by myself. And I am angry at him that he is getting help and can focus just on himself while I am left here to clean up the messes he left behind. And I am angry at him that he hasn’t even said, “I’m sorry”. And I am angry that I have to make everything nice and – never mind that one – I don’t have to make everything nice to keep him from abusing again, that is his responsibility. Mostly I am just angry for God knows why. And there is no help for it. And I worry that all this anger will spill over on to him when he comes home and I can’t help but wonder if he will be better off without me.

[b]April 26, 2004[/b]

I am still quite a bit pissed off today. I suppose I could write an unsent letter to him but I don’t know if that would make me feel any better. I feel like I really want to tell him how much he has hurt me and that I won’t take it anymore. Am I allowed to do that? Of course I am, again my codependent thinking – I am afraid to get HIM upset because he might start drinking again. I have a lot of work to do on myself. I read this codependent no more book and realize how truly fucked up I am. But there is hope and I will keep working on it.

I was remembering this morning how I felt when the ex was working in the Keys. Granted, he was making the money and sending it home. But I had a part-time job and I was going to school and I was all alone with just my kids. And I survived. I enjoyed it. I did not have a man around and I actually enjoyed it! So why am I so afraid of it now??

I talked to my childhood friend N. for a long time yesterday. As usual, she had much to say that was helpful to me. She suggested that I write what I want and don’t want in a relationship. I wrote the key paramount ones down. She says I can change my list whenever I want but here are the things I doubt I will ever take off of my list. This is what I want and don’t want in my life.
 
What I Want and don't want in a Relationship
04.26.04 (8:59 am)   [edit]
[b]WHAT I WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP[/b]

Equality – in chores, in decisions, in conversation, in emotional support

To be taken care of at the times I need to be taken care of (when I am sick, depressed, stressed, etc.)

To see obvious and sincere appreciation for what I contribute to the relationship

To actually be told I am loved on a frequent basis (not just shown)

To be the most important thing in someone’s life

To have it sometimes be all about me

To be a woman - NOT a mother or a wife or a sex object or a caretaker

For someone to bring me coffee in bed now and then

[b]WHAT I DON’T WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP[/b]


To be a mommy to someone

To be the sole financial supporter

To be the only one responsible for everything

To be accused of screwing up something that wasn’t my responsibility in the first place

To be called names

To engage in rageful behavior

To have my past always thrown in my face

To be ignored or brushed off when I am sick

To be put anything other than first

To feel ashamed of the other’s person’s behavior to the point of having to lie all the time to everyone
 
Better today...
04.24.04 (4:59 am)   [edit]
I am feeling so much better today. A. called 3 times yesterday and he sounds tired but very positive about the experience he is going through.

He also told me that he was scared that I won't love him when he is sober! I was shocked - it never occured to me that he would as scared of that as I was! It is nice to know we are on the same page and both willing to tell each other our fears.

I began reading Codependent No More and it is such a wonderful book. I think it has helped me more than the therapist and Al-Anon meetings!

Started writing a play yesterday about the weekend experience - working title: The Intervention. It is going well - the feelings and emotions are so intense that the words are just pouring out of me. It may turn out to be crap as plays go but I don't care - the sheer act of writing them is helping me.

No time to work on the play or feel sorry for myself or worry about the future this weekend. I have two 10 page papers due on Monday and that is what I will be doing all weekend. yikes! I haven't even started one of them!

Peace...
 
Day 5 & not doing so well...
04.23.04 (6:57 am)   [edit]
I am not doing so well but I suppose I will survive it. I went to an Al-Anon meeting and they made me feel a little better but mostly scared the hell out of me. Several of the people who have had spouses in rehab met up with me in the parking lot and were telling me - warning me - that he will be different when he comes home, that he will be "clearheaded", and it won't be all roses and sunshine.

I try to stop the little voice in my head that keeps telling me that he is going to come home after 21 days of intensive therapy and find this woman who is fucked up and then he will leave me. I have always been secure in our relationship but now I am scared to death. He has been high throughout our entire relationship - what will he think of me when he is not high??

Anyway, that is the tape in my head that won't stop and the Al-Anon people just reinforced it. Then A. called Wed night and is telling me about a patient, Wendy, who he has hit it off with and they complete each other's sentences and how they could be best friends on the outside, blah, blah, blah....how can I, a lifelong sober person, possibly compete with someone who can complete his damn sentences??? I can only call him if he tells me the extension but he has only called the one time and didn't give it to me -

I can only see my therapist for 50 minutes a week - that is merely a quarter of one day for what he is getting. I don't know how I will ever get healthy enough for him by the time he gets home. I am so scared I will screw this up and he will go back to where he was just because I am too needy or whatever. The doctors there don't even call to tell me how he is. I don't understand how you can help someone get sober and healthy and not do anything about the spouse at the same time! What good is all that therapy if he will just be coming home to me??

There I go again. Sorry. Haven't had much sleep since this whole thing started. Thanks for listening, it is good to just be able to voice it all to someone.
 
Day 3 on my own
04.21.04 (5:39 am)   [edit]
Day 3. A. entered the rehab on Monday. Today is Wendsday. I still didn’t sleep well last night. J. and J. rented the Steve Martin movie – Cheaper by the Dozen – and I stayed up till quarter to 12 in hopes it would help me sleep better. No such luck. I did sleep till 7:30 though. Just lots and lots of weird dreams.

I am not working at the bookstore today. Hoping to just putter around the house – maybe even take a nap. I was going to write to A. but I don’t know if he even feels like reading my letters. I haven’t heard from him yet. He has been 3 days sober now. I wish I knew how he was handling it. I keep finding myself looking at the clock and wondering what he is doing right now.

No tears this morning. The first morning in a long time I haven’t woke up crying. I think I may be able to handle an Al-Anon meeting now. I also need to call the therapist and make an appointment.

Tomorrow I work 9-5:30 and then class from 6-8:45. It will be a long day. Friday I work 12-6 then class Monday night then I am off from school for two weeks. I am looking forward to my summer classes – both film classes – International Film and Film as Literature – should be interesting. Hoping to take the Playwright Project Seminar in the Fall. We will leave that class with a completed play written. i have already been thinking of doing mine on the intervention – there is loads of material to work with there.

I read back over this year’s entries and am reminded of all the pain I have gone through. I think at times I fed off of it. Drama. Maybe I need to learn how to live peacefully – without the drama. Well, I know I do. Perhaps when my personal life is calm, I will be able to take the drama to the page instead.

I try to force myself to be quiet – I am so used to worrying all the time and don’t know how to be still. I find myself projecting all the time – worrying about what life will be like with a sober husband. And worrying if he will be able to remain sober.

[b]One day at a time.[/b]

Who would have ever thought I would come to understand what that means?? Now it is my mantra. Today I will only worry about today. I tell myself that over and over again.


 
The Intervention
04.20.04 (1:50 pm)   [edit]
The weekend was very productive. The therapist/interventionist , V. is very very good at what he does and had A. (and the rest of us) in the palm of his hand within 15 minutes. It was an intense family therapy session for six hours on Sat. and 4 hours on Sun. We were all wore out.

I drove A. to Tampa Sunday night and he admitted himself to the facility on Monday morning. He will be there for about 4 weeks.

He was very positive about it and ready to get down to work. Ten minutes in there and he was already telling them their plants were a mess and what to do to make them better. (A. is a botantist and interior landscaper).

We had a wonderful night together at a hotel that his sister paid for which was across the street from the hospital. We talked about a lot of stuff that was brought up during the intervention. It was a healing night and very emotional.

I am doing okay - adjusting to life without him here is hard but I'll survive it. Wish I would stop crying all the damn time (I have such a major headache) but V. says that is normal and good. While A. recovers as an addict/alcoholic, I have to start to recover from my own addiction - to him. Miss co-dependent here. My name is Karen and I am co-addicted. sigh...My son is working double shifts at the movie theater and his girlfriend is falling all over herself to help me with the dogs and everything else.

Start work today at the university bookstore and that will keep me busy (30 hours a week). School doesn't start back up until May 11th.

I feel very positive about all that has happened - only wish we had done it sooner. V. has ordered me to therapy sessions and Al-Anon meetings so I can learn to undo my enabling behavior...sigh..
 
toothaches and painkillers
04.14.04 (5:08 am)   [edit]
We had a few good days since I told him about the intervention. Now things are swinging to the bad side again. He has been off the painkillers for four days and going through withdrawals.

sigh...that is our life - a pendulum that swings widely from one pole to another. What I wouldn't give to just rest in the center for awhile!

In the middle of the night last night he was ranting about killing himself. How am I supposed to take that?? Is he serious?? Is he just being overly dramatic, as usual? He wanted me to hear - otherwise why would he be ranting in bed, in the middle of the night, loud enough to wake me?? All it did was piss me off.

He wants me to feel sorry for him but I don't. I have a hell of a toothache - my impacted wisdom tooth. I get no sympathy from him. He just keeps urging me to go to the dentist and get painkillers.

I think he is happy I have a toothache so I will go get painkillers. How sick is that?? I'll go get painkillers and he will steal them from me. He would rather leave me in pain then go without his high. I'm not stupid. He can deny it all he wants but that is the truth of it.

If this weekend doesn't work, if this therapist can't help us, then I am scared that I will have to live like this until he dies - I don't know what will be left of me if I have to do that.

If he chooses beer and pills over three measly weeks of rehab then I hope he gets the dying over with quickly so I don't have to die with him.
 
i told him about the intervention
04.10.04 (7:41 am)   [edit]
April 9, 2004

Telling A. today about the intervention. I'll let you know how that goes. The therapist has found a very nice place with private rooms and all. The family has raised some money and the therapist was able to wrangle $3000 out of his agency for the fees. The cost of the program is $5800. If he agrees to go then they will take him there next Sunday.

I think he is ready to go...he has been talking a lot about it and he is tired and scared. He knows I can't do this anymore and he doesn't want to lose me. We'll see...he may actually find that he doesn't even like me when he is sober. I am trying to prepare myself for anything.

...very very busy...finals are next week and I went and got myself involved in the English Graduate Organization and I am swamped with that..sigh..

[b]Later...[/b]

i told him today and he is, of course, mad. but not mad enough to say he won't be here for it. he said he is willing to talk to the therapist but he doesn't want 'the girls' around (meaning me, his sisters, his mom). he says he can't stand the thought of sitting there watching them cry, especially his mother.

anyway, i think he will stay and listen to what the man has to say at any rate. the program we are trying to get him into is only 3-4 weeks though.

anywho...that is all for now..i am doing better...kinda in numb mode which i will take because last week was one of sobbing hysteria and that just gives me a headache i'm sure i'll be back in hysteria mode by next weekend so for now i am just going to enjoy this numbness.

[b]April 10, 2004[/b]

I was perfectly calm when I told him. The biggest shock for him was when he said "Wait till L. (his best friend) hears this, he'll laugh his ass off" and I said "Actually, L. is very concerned about you and has offered $1000 towards getting you treatment". That floored him. (personally, I think L. needs rehab more than A. does!)

He is better today. He is determined to be clean when they get here ([i]I'll show them [/i]attitude). He hasn't had a beer and he is out of Vicodan. He is taking his Valium though.

Needless to say, he is cranky, sleepy, and hurting...geesh....well, if he wants to detox that way then what am I supposed to do? Of course, I know one week of sobriety does not a healed person make but I will let the therapist deal with that issue when he gets here...Lord knows the man has been paid enough, let him do his job, right?
 
got this from cdwtexas..
04.09.04 (8:40 am)   [edit]
Thought it might be fun to do....

WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES? blue and green

FAVORITE BOOK? Grapes of Wrath

FAVORITE BOARD GAME? Rumicube

FAVORITE MAGAZINES? People (great gossip) and Poets & Writers

FAVORITE SMELLS? gardenias

LEAST FAVORITE SMELL? dog poop

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? coffee and computer

FAVORITE COLOR? burgandy and deep purple

LEAST FAVORITE COLOR? yellow and orange

HOW MANY RINGS BEFORE YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? depends on how long it takes me to find it!

FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? IF I could have another one, I would name her Madeline

WHAT IS MOST IMPORTANT IN LIFE? being content

CHOCOLATE OR VANILLA? chocolate

DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST? no, i am a pokey old lady

DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? i sleep with two chihuahua's and a cat - OH! and a few of the puppie's toys that are stuffed!

STORMS - COOL OR SCARY? Love love love a good storm (as long as there are no tornados!)

WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? A lime green vega (what an oil guzzler!)

IF YOU COULD MEET ONE PERSON DEAD OR ALIVE? stephen king maybe and i'd love to talk to my great aunt grace again..she was a pisser..

IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB WHAT WOULD IT BE? A writer..at home...

IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOR HAIR, WHAT WOULD IT BE? red...like Debra Messing...

IS THE GLASS HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY? depends on my mood swings...

FAVORITE MOVIES? African Queen and House of Mirth

WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? My bed sits on the floor ... there is no UNDER!

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? don't have one

FAVORITE CD? Norah Jones and Beth Hart

FAVORITE TV SHOWS? Sex & the City, ER, Seinfeld

KETCHUP OR MUSTARD? both

HAMBURGER OR HOT DOG? both

FAVORITE SOFT DRINK? pepsi or root beer

THE BEST PLACES YOU HAVE EVER BEEN? Manhattan and Brooklyn

FAVORITE FAST FOOD? McD's quarter pounder or Subway

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SONG RIGHT NOW? Sarah McClaughlin's new song (don't know if I spelled that right!)

WHAT ARE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW BESIDES ANSWERING THESE SILLY QUESTIONS? listening to my husband snore and trying to finish a paper for class

WHAT IS FOR DINNER TONIGHT? Spaghetti w/ garlic bread

DO YOU HAVE A NICKNAME? WHAT IS IT? Hamy

WHAT KIND OF CAR DO YOU DRIVE NOW? Mitsubishi Galant but I hate it! I want a JEEP!!
 
Do we create ourselves through stories?
04.08.04 (6:35 am)   [edit]
The Native American poet, Joy Harjo says, “Stories create us. We create ourselves with stories”. Reading Leslie Marmon Silko’s novel, [u]Ceremony[/u] reminded me of this quote. The main character, Tayo, is desperately seeking a way to live with the stories that he can’t get out of his head, the horrors of war. The stories that haunt him create in him the chaos of the war atrocities, the insane chaos of a world gone mad, thus serving to create – to define – Tayo as those stories of insanity. Tayo is literally going insane and he needs to replace the stories of war with the stories of his people.

Stories are mentioned over and over again in the novel. The importance of stories, the healing power of stories, the mutable nature of stories – “a world made of stories, the long ago, time immemorial stories”. The war vets sit around the bar, retell stories, and seek to recreate the sense of belonging they felt while in the Army. They seek to create themselves anew, to solidify the identity they thought they had found and they do this by telling stories. Tayo finds another way to create himself through stories. He reaches back into the far past, to the ancestors stories, and is able to create himself through those stories.

Another interesting aspect is the very nature of the words in the “immemorial stories”. The medicine man, Old Ku’oosh stresses the importance of telling the story behind each word because “there could be no mistake in the meaning of what had been said”. How easy it is to misconstrue the meaning of a word! And if the meaning of a word changes, then the entire story changes! You have to wonder about the “immemorial stories” that our culture is surrounded with – how many of the words have had their meaning changed, and thus the entire story changed?

But the old medicine man, Betonie says that change must happen. “Things which don’t shift and grow are dead things”. In all of mythology the stories have to change, make tiny shifts, add new meanings to words in order to do the job they were intended to do. If a culture is constantly changing then the words – the stories – that create that culture must also change in order for the culture to stay alive. The infusion of Christianity into the pagan world saw many myths being rewritten – smatterings of Christian thought crept into the pages of the stories so that the people would hold on to the stories. And if this change did not happen, then the stories would be lost forever.

But I have to wonder, are not the stories somehow lost anyway in the changing of them? The Norse writer, Snorri Sturluson sets down the ancient stories of the Germanic people in the [u]Prose Edda [/u]so they will be preserved for time immemorial. But in those stories are those little changes, those little additions of Christian thought that Sturluson adds almost unconsciously really [i]preserving [/i]the Germanic myths? Where is the true story? Where is the true myth? Where is the truth in the story at all? We change the story in order to create ourselves – but is it our self we are creating or the self as a cog in the wheel of society?

Does Tayo change the story he is creating? Or is he trying to change the story that the white man is creating? In the end, he takes the stories of his ancestors and uses them to live, to survive - “The words gathered inside him and gave him strength”. And is that all that matters in that end? That the stories themselves, not their meaning, give us the power to create ourselves?
 
CLASS SCHEDULES
04.07.04 (6:41 am)   [edit]
The class schedules for Summer and Fall come out this Friday. I have already seen the English courses (posted in the English dept). The pickings are slim indeed. I am so depressed that the Major Authors being offered are James Joyce and Jane Austen. I love Joyce but the professor teaching it is one I don't care to take. Jane Austen is too fru-fru romantic for me. Should I take one of them anyway or wait and see what is offered in the Spring? hmmmmm.....I graduate in the Spring so if I wait then I run the risk of something worse being offered...and I HAVE to take one Major Author.....sigh.....decisions, decisions....
 
such wonderful bloggers!
04.06.04 (5:36 am)   [edit]
I was floored to get up this morning and find notes from some of you! I mostly just come here to vent and read some of your blogs for inspiration...I am so touched by your notes!

I am a bit better today (your notes helped!!). One day at a time is what everyone keeps telling me. I am confident that this choice is the best for me but I am soooooooo scared.

Whichever way it goes, it is nice to know there are people here who are so supportive.

cdwtexas, the weather in Florida has been beautiful...a bit on the warm side for my taste though...enjoy Disney World!

Thanks again everyone...Peace...
 
What I am afraid of...
04.05.04 (7:13 am)   [edit]
What I Am Afraid Of…

That he will be mad at for me for keeping the Intervention from him.

That he will not love me when (if) he is sober.

That I will not love him when (if) he is sober.

That I am too screwed up for him.

That I will have to face my own inadequacies when he is gone.

That I will never know the kind of love we had before.

That the love we had before was false because he was never sober.

That I am not up to this.

That I will fall apart and crack into a billion pieces.

That my whole life has been lived caring for other people and I have no clue how to care for myself.

That I will be alone forever.

That I won’t be alone and will have to live with his addictions when everyone else goes home.

That they are all strong enough to go on with their lives without him but I am not.
 
job hunting
04.05.04 (5:52 am)   [edit]
I had to tell my son about the intervention. He is 21 and lives here with his girlfriend. They have their own little apartment - the closed in garage. They are only here for the summer and then they are off to college. We barely see them so they hardly even know what is going on in our lives. You know how 20 year olds are. Anyway, they are going to go away for that weekend.

I have given up the job hunt for now. Hopefully something good will come from the interview at the high school. I won't know for another two or three weeks. When the intervention is over with then I will go find a part-time job at Wal-mart or something. How degrading....a Master's degree in Literature and I will be working as a cashier. But Bush says the job market is wonderful, doesn't he?? Idiot...

Peace...

 
walking on eggshells
04.04.04 (6:31 am)   [edit]
Not exactly enjoying my life these days. Yesterday was hell. I don’t know why. I guess I just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I spent the entire day fighting back tears and once or twice (okay, three times) I did break down and sob like a baby. I’ve been trying to keep myself busy. I have painted the fireplace wall and the bathroom. I weed-eated and cleaned up the back yard. I did every scrap of laundry in the house. I can’t read. I can’t write. It is only sheer physical activity that distracts me.

Yesterday I was struck with all these thoughts about A. and I together over the past four years. All those little moments of intimacy and love. Every time he stroked my face or held me. Being at the beach and sitting between his legs with his arms around me as we watched the waves roll in and out, not speaking just being together. Where did all of that go? And I was overwhelmed with loneliness.

The sisters all get to go home to their lives when this intervention is over. Sure, they hurt -–watching your brother go through this is difficult, especially your twin brother – B. and C. feel it the most because of that triplet thing. But I am his wife, I spend every single day with him, I have for four years. When this is over, where will I be? Alone. My other half missing. Who will hold me in the dark when I have a panic attack? Who will I tell when I get an A on a paper or a professor pisses me off? Who will I discuss the merits of a movie with? Who will I eat with, sleep with, live with? Just me. It is so overwhelming to think of him not here. And no matter which way the intervention goes, I will be alone.

And they keep telling me it is a process, one day at a time, you can do this, blah, blah, blah. They have no clue what this is doing to me – they never had to do this before. They are recovering alcoholics. They just don’t know what I am going through, would not want to know the horrendousness of what I am going through.

I feel so fragile. We ordered pizza last night and they did not put the extra cheese we paid for on it. A. said he was going to call them and complain. I begged him to please go in the other room and do it so I wouldn’t hear. Such a simple thing and it threatened to send me over the edge – the thought of listening to a confrontation of any kind. And I am facing the biggest confrontation of all in two weeks.

And I feel like a traitor. I have never lied to him. I have never kept anything from him. And now I hold his life in my hands.
 
hurt my foot
04.01.04 (12:05 pm)   [edit]
I stepped on a plastic headband Monday and sliced my foot open in two places. Finally went to the doctor on campus today because there are red streaks about an inch and half long on both cuts.

Doc says she thinks something is inside of one of the wounds and I need an xray and then have it dug out and then have stitches! The $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ are ringing in my head! (I don't have health insurance).

I ended up saying no to the $50 xray, no to the $20 tetnus shot, and okay to the $14 antibotics. I just can't afford to do anything else about it because that man I am married to has spent all MY damn money on beer and Vicodan (he's still saying, "I'll wean myself off" in that whining voice). Yeah, he'll wean himself off my ass.....little does he know what is coming in just two more weeks...I am so sick of the whole thing...