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1 of the benefits of “writing to myself” that is, that my blog no longer has a following as it did back in my heyday, is that I can unload most of my thoughts/feelings right here. Altho I will confess that I do have another blog where I dump all the ugly crap. I have been on edge all day long & am not really certain why, I can pretty much guess 1 of the reasons is because both my mom & Dick’s parents are in rather fragile health & whether or not we acknowledge it, it adds stress to our every day. For now though, both of our moms are home & his dad is coming home on Tuesday. Anyways…

Admittedly I am on an emotional rollercoaster, which recently became more evident to me. About an hour ago I got into it with someone I’ve followed on Twitter for at least a year. He was making references to Tim Tebow about a “WHITE God” and “Faggot” which I found offensive. For the record, I couldn’t stand Tebow during his college years because the media did treat him as though he were the 2nd coming of Christ. However, since then, I’ve heard him in an interview & he seemed like truly a nice guy; I also realized how wrong it was of me to so passionately detest someone because of their religious beliefs. So, when this guy made these comments I called him out on it & I was rather surprised at what followed; it made me realize what a disservice we can do to ourselves & others by applying labels, something I have been guilty of MANY times. You can imagine my shock when it was insinuated that I was a Christian. As a matter of fact, 1 of my favorite quotes is by Gandhi: “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”  and that I loved Tebow! Even typing this now makes me laugh (I’m glad I’ve gotten to this point where I can laugh at this)

But for the record, if I must give myself a religious label, it would be Agnostic, not a Christian and not an Athiest. It simply means I don’t know the answers about God, nor do I profess to, and I don’t believe it’s humanly possible. Do I seek spiritual things? Yes, I do. Constantly. Mostly, I LOVE to talk about religious/spiritual beliefs. I believe in an after-life and do not believe the lack of a religious label jeopardizes my life in the here-after, in the least. I’m not White. But, then I am. My father was White and my mom is Mexican. I realize most see them as one in the same, but they aren’t. I know I “look” White, but that’s irrelevant. And I’ll tell you for my cousins whose mother & father were Mexican it’s even more different, not because of our family or how we treat each other, but how society has treated them ever since they were born. I’m a Liberal, and to an extent, I’m a Socialist. I’m a Humanitarian & will give the shirt off my back or my last dollar to a stranger in need…both of my kids are the same & I am extremely proud of them for that. They don’t even have healthcare for themselves, yet they’ll give food or blankets to someone in need ~ I raised them right! And While I was once diagnosed Bipolar, I’m not. I do have Borderline Personality Disorder though.

This guy claimed he had the right to use the word “Faggot” cuz he’s gay. And as one may correctly assume right here, this is where I pipe in with my “I have gay friends.” But that’s not 100% accurate. My sister is gay, and yet I am more pro-active for gays than she is. She is a gay, Conservative, Christian; she doesn’t want to be gay & didn’t acknowledge it until she was 50, she “tried” not to be gay since her teens & now hopes & believes God will forgive her & let her into heaven when she dies. I also have a niece that is gay, when she came out her parents disowned her, her father – our brother, as a matter of fact, actually told my sister that she is going to hell because she’s gay. (This has since been resolved w/them)

My niece is a Republican, but in name only, because she became a Republican as a birthday present for her dad who is involved in politics. (Oh, the things we do!) But she is pro-gay in her beliefs as far as marriage, adoption, gay rights, whereas my sister is anti-gay marriage, anti-adoption for gays, etc. So my niece would definitely be a Liberal and is not a Christian. (For the record, my brother has come a LONG way in accepting her sexuality & their relationship is 100% better) I guess my reason in bringing up the above is only to point out that you cannot judge a book by it’s cover. While it would be so easy to label my sister & niece the same, they’re not.

Oddly enough, yesterday while at my therapist we were talking & the subject of being diagnosed “bipolar” came up. I’m reading a book by Robert Whitaker: Anatony of an Epidemic, which I’m only about 1/5 of the way thru, is without a doubt one of the best books on mental health I’ve ever read. I cannot recommend this book enough if you or someone you love has been given a mental illness diagnosis because it holds so much truth & revelation. When I was talking to Doc about this he mentioned that almost every single “bipolar” patient has had a fucked up childhood, and he wondered why, if bipolar disorder is a neurological disorder, 99% of his patients had messed up childhoods? My own experience, as being diagnosed “bipolar” and subsequently diagnosed “borderline personality disorder” is that I’m not bipolar. I was put on anti-depressants in 1995 and it made me manic, thus I was diagnosed “bipolar” in 1996, then put on a barrage of mental meds that totally fucked me up for the next 10+ years. Same thing happened to my brother and my son. The meds my son was put on in 2000 actually made him psychotic, and he tried to hang himself in a mental hospital during his psychosis. But alas, we aren’t bipolar; we do not have a neurological disorder. We have a personality disorder.

Had we been correctly diagnosed by doctors that weren’t interested in our continued lifelong dependency on Big Pharma meds & return visits to Drs/Psychs, we would have been spared YEARS of hell for ourselves and our families. The difference with Borderline Personality Disorder is that it doesn’t require medication, it requires therapy: enter Psychologist, exit Psychiatrist. And you get better, sure it’s a long process & not a pretty diagnosis, certainly not one (I have learned) that you want to share openly with others… thus the anonymity on my blog.

Long story short, the labels we assign to individuals can have a detrimental effect. I am learning that labels, as a whole, should be avoided. So, my friend that I got into it with tonight on Twitter is probably in the learning process about labels, and that’s okay. I was there not too long ago, and he seems much younger than I am – so he’s well ahead of me. We all make mistakes and I won’t pretend to act as though I’ve experienced life in his shoes, so I’m really not judging, but am truly trying to be empathetic. 1 of my reasons for writing this post is purely of selfishness ~ I’m obviously on edge right now & am hoping putting my thoughts “out there” will release whatever toxins are dwelling in my psyche right now.

The bottom line is, life shouldn’t be about labels, it should be about loving unconditionally. Don’t you agree?

 

Seasons

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It’s common knowledge that our lives have different seasons. Seasons when we’re kids & carefree, when we’re young parents with young kids, and so on. Dick & I have long talked about when the time would come that our parents would pass on and we’ve always supported each other in caring for, and spending as much time as possible with our parents ~ I can honestly say, neither of us have ever said 1 snide remark or disagreed about that. It’s only fair to disclose here than I consider November and December to be “The killing season” and perhaps this proves that I’m a pessimist. (as though there were any doubt) Because while my family has many births in those 2 months, it seems all of our deaths also happen in those 2 months, and being that nobody is having babies at this time, well… Let’s just say when November comes along I feel like I’m holding my breathe until January 1st.

This year my mom & Jim’s dad were both in the hospital at the same time. Fortunately, for my mom it was only for 3 days, but for Dick’s dad he has been there since Nov. 13 and is supposed to be released next Tuesday, Jan. 10th. My mom is 83, and his parents are both 87. Tonight I was over at my mom’s checking on her foot because she got a bite & has to be on antibiotics. She is the worst patient in the world which can be very frustrating! And I know she lives and dies her way, but if she wants to live, then telling me her foot is okay when it clearly isn’t, is not helping her achieve that goal. And I worry.

I worry every single time our phone rings that special ring. We have our phone set so that when we’re called from our parents homes, it rings differently than other calls. That way we know to pick it up even if we’re sleeping. We do not miss those calls! For a long time I have dreaded those rings because I’m so afraid that something is wrong. I’m afraid it is that call. The one with someone at the other end giving you horrible news. And yet, here Dick and I are, both so vulnerable & at the same time being so strong for our parents, not showing any fear or as much as a crack in our demeanor, but inside, at times it feels like our world is crashing down on us.

We both adore our parents so much – my mom is my best friends and Dick’s parents are his best friends ~ truly. I guess I’ve always underestimated the elderly, discounting them as having less to contribute, but in reality, they are a wealth of knowledge and true treasures. And we want them to stay just like that, and here, with us.

Tonight as I was getting ready for bed, I realized I’m fearful of change. There is something in Buddhism about change, that 1 of the reasons we struggle is because we don’t accept things as they are & want what we don’t have. But I want things to stay exactly how they are and want nothing to change… forever. And I want this to the extreme that I don’t want my phone to ring, I don’t want anybody to knock on my door – because that may very well represent change, and I’d rather have no change at all than risk bad change. And I don’t want my kids to get married because then that will be 1 more person than something can happen to, and add to the circle of those I don’t want change to touch. That means no children for them either (and yes, I realize this is terribly, horribly selfish) because we all know what can happen to infants, toddlers, little kids and so on… they’re never 100% safe.

It’s scary. Life is frightening. It makes me want to go in my bed and hide under my covers for days on end, maybe even longer than days, perhaps weeks, or months. I’d like to turn my phone off and put a “do not knock” sign on our door (even though nobody pays attention to those) and keep those we love so dearly right here, in our house, safe from everything. And then perhaps, we can all just breathe.

A Tree of Love

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Whatever the reason that’s brought you to my blog, I ask you to please read this entire post, as well as the 1 I refer to. This involves my daughter, a man that she rented a room from for 3 days, and his family~ especially his ex-wife, a “prophet”. On Oct. 11th, I wrote this post I want to be a tree of love. <— Please read that post.

Ron called my daughter last night crying; she hadn’t talked to him in over a month. He told her he’s dying & wants to see his “angel.” He said he knew she was the one that called Adult Protective Services & reported the living situation. The day after the night he went to the hospital, when my daughter lived there, his ex-wife stepped in & gave 3 renters a 30 day notice. Within 1 week she had sold every single thing in that house and his car. That’s not why my daughter called APS though. She was updating her FB saying he was acting crazy, lighting matches & flicking them around the house, taking the car for rides. She wouldn’t let him be alone in a room w/his friends & took his phone away from him, in other words, she had cut off ALL of his ties with the outside world.

He told Jill she saved his life. What we’ve learned since last night is that the “prophet” was intentionally overdosing Ron by giving him 3-4 times the pain medication he was supposed to get. Let me say this, having only read this woman’s FB page it has been crystal clear the ONLY thing she is interested in is any money she can squeeze out of Ron. So, he’s not living there anymore. Last night he showed Jill all of his worldly possessions, 2 pair of tennis shoes & a few shirts all piled in a corner of a closet; some friends are letting him live die there. He’s decided he wants to go to a hospice & be around people that are dying…I think he’ll be in better hands, especially with nurses that know how to care for dying patients.

Before Jill went over she asked if he wanted anything, he said yes, a piece of boysenberry pie, so she went & bought him one. She called me after she’d gotten the pie, but before she went to visit him & said while she was at a gas station she saw a homeless guy, not asking for a thing, so she gave him a flannel blanket out of her trunk, then went in the store & bought him some coffee & a bearclaw. When she got to Ron’s, she said he cried a lot while she was there. He wants to read the bible but can’t read (because of his brain tumor) so Jill called my brother, who is going over there Friday & I’m sure he’ll read & pray with Ron.

We’re all faced with these types of situations throughout our lives & I’m always amazed at how few people will get involved. If someone is being bullied, or shivering in the cold, being abused…the list goes on forever. Ron had 4 close friends that also knew about his living situation with his ex-wife, one of them being an RN, but none of them called APS. A young lady that had known him less than a week cared enough about him & making sure this ex-New Jersey cop was given the smallest bit of dignity in his final days. The RN told my daughter, “We’ve all known Ron for years and you barely know him. You’re the smallest one among us, but you’re the strongest.” To back up a bit, what finally got Ron out of the ex’s house… 1 night she realized she’d really given him too many pills & thought he was going to OD, so she took him to the hospital to drop him off- so he’d die there & not at her home. He returned hours later to her home with 3 police officers who let Ron go in & get all of his worldly possessions.

In my 53 years, my experience is that most people won’t get involved & it’s 1 of my pet peeves; it angers me more than almost anything else. I’ve said before I believe everything happens for a reason & when Jill had to move out 3 days after renting a room from him, I told her… “I think you are his angel.” (this was before we knew of his horrible living conditions) I am not a Christian, but there is a verse in the bible that talks about “angels unaware” & its referencing people that pass by us in our daily lives & that some are angels, but that’s the last thing they look like. I imagine some would look like someone being abused, a hooker, a mentally ill homeless person, etc.

When Jill told me what she’d done for the homeless man, she kinda laughed and said, “I’m always going to be poor.” With great pride, I thought “No, my beautiful baby girl, you are one of the richest among us.” *I can say with a clear conscience that I’d get one to get involved, and I hope anybody that has read this far (thank you if you have) will give this serious consideration. Even if the one in need is not an angel, but simply a human… would you get involved?

ps…sorry this post is scattered, i’m too lazy to edit

* I think it’s important to clarify that the reason I am more apt to help isn’t because I’m more enlightened, or less afraid, than others. I’ve lived some pretty low lows & am constantly reminded “There by the grace of god go I” I can only think that those experiences actually help me to have more empathy for people, than perhaps I otherwise would have.

*Ron passed away on Dec. 19, 2011. We don’t know all the details, but we do know that it was done his way & that’s what is important. Peace be with you, Ron.

Some weirdness

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There are some things of interest to me that I want to write about, before I forget about them. The 1st is that things in our household are going much better. Dick has gotten Jack’s safe & returned it. He’s also straightened out the situation with Jill & she will be properly compensated for the year + worth of work she did for him. He & I are speaking again, which is good, but we do need to work in therapy at building on our friendship. If there is 1 thing I’ve learned in relationships (and I am the last person that dare claim any sort of “insight” to relationships), but it is that friendship is the most valuable facet between the two. Dick & I have always been best friends, we’ve got so much in common. Lately, something has changed…it has to do with the time we’re spending, or how we’re spending it, perhaps not in the same room…something has changed it. And it may just be 1/2 an hour a day that’s needed~ I’m sure my therapist will help us figure it out.

Speaking of which, my therapist, I’ve spoken with him 2 times this week. I think I should back-up here. I’m reading a book called Lost In The Mirror: an Inside Look at Borderline Personality Disorder. This book describes so perfectly what I was talking about in one of my last posts, about how my days don’t seem connected, how my life seems more like a patchwork quilt than like a tapestry. The author, Richard Moskovitz, uses a perfect analogy to explain what I was trying to & it’s that while your life (if you don’t have BPD) may seem like a video movie, but my life seems like snapshots. When I read that, in my head I thought “BINGO!” Perfectly explained.

So, back to my therapist. It would be awful if he were no longer my therapist & I had some issues because I felt he’d taken Dick’s side over mine & I felt that, because of something I’d said, he no longer liked me. When I talked with him the other day, I was somewhat standoffish, but told him I did need to talk with him again. So today I told him I don’t think I’m doing very well, as far as BPD – and I think when my BPD isn’t under control, my depression flairs up – which has been the case. He said he’s thought that, but he kind of lets me “discover” these things on my own. Sort of like leading a horse to water- I realized I had BPD & when I told him I thought I might have it, he nodded & just listened & he’d known I have it, but I guess I needed to realize it myself. (I’d never even heard of it before) But today I told him that when I made a certain remark I knew he didn’t like me anymore because he said, “Boy, you sure are burning a lot of bridges here.” When I told him this, he said he never said that & it didn’t sound like something he’d say (and it doesn’t). What was so weird is it was at that moment I “knew” (I think it was a trigger of some sort) that he no longer liked/approved of me. That, inevitably led to me walking out of his office – I have never done that in my 7 years or so of going to him. So tonight I asked Dick about it, because he was in the room with us. He remembered what I said, but did not remember hearing my doctor say what I heard him say. That means I audibly heard something that was not said. My doctor kind of explain it to me today, but I’ve got to find out what really happened because the words, the feelings, were so real; I write this as though I’m just curious, but in all honesty, I’m really scared.

Small observation

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I was re-reading my previous posts & noticed something interesting. In my last post, I likened my life like that of a patchwork quilt. In the post right before that, I referred to the current situation in my life as a “swatch of material” and perhaps it’s obvious where I find the irony, but then again, perhaps not. But swatches of material are actually what make up a patchwork quilt. (I’m almost positive I screwed up the grammar in this paragraph, so I’ll move on to another, whether or not I should right here)

Years ago, when I had my JaneLovesTarzan blog, I wrote about an Okapi. They’re such interesting animals & they kinda remind me of patchwork quilts cuz some of their parts are like giraffes, some like zebras, and their tongues are long enough to clean their ears. Yes, I know all I’ve mentioned is in the article I linked, but it’s stuff I remember as being interesting from before.

So, what’s my point? I don’t believe anything happens for a reason. I surely do not remember what I write from 1 blog post to the next & usually my blog posts never relate or refer to another, but the previous 2 just happen to specifically do so. Again, what’s my point? Maybe just as an Okapi is supposed to resemble parts of different animal’s qualities, my life is meant to resemble a patchwork quilt instead of a tapestry. And my final point being, I know without doubt, for the rest of my life, whenever I sing “Tapestry” by Carole King I will think of the Okapi & regardless of the moment’s mood, I will try to be thankful for who and how I am.

Borderline Personality Disorder

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I have borderline personality disorder (bpd) and I’ve known I have it for about 6 or 7 years. How I came to find out is kinda funny, but not really important here. If you’d like to read more about it, you can at this link: BPD

Things have been worse lately. I called my therapist this morning because I feel like I’ve got some kind of multiple personality thing going on, except that I’m not blacking out or having gaps in time that I can’t account for.  But what has been going on & is really frustrating me, is that there’s no “flow” in my life. 1 day doesn’t feel connected to the one before, or the one after. I may have a goal today (and I do) but tomorrow that goal may be something completely different. The frustration comes in part because I’m a 53 year old woman (I guess the age doesn’t really matter, does it?) and I want to do so many things, but they keep changing.

And I have all these ideas, ideas which are attainable for me~ they’re not necessarily grandiose- like learning how to draw, or making emergency disaster kits. Sounds easy, right? Yet, I have so many books on how to draw, or make mosaics… for all kinds of art. And while I’d like to take an art class, I know better than to sign up because there is no way I would attend any sort of anything consistently, so it would be like throwing money away.

My life seems more like a patchwork quilt than a tapestry thats tells the story of a lifetime; maybe that’s a good way to summarize how it feels. I feel like I’m always waiting to start living my life; I also feel like I’ve been waiting all of my life to die. <– To clarify, I do not mean committing suicide or that I want to die, because I don’t. It’s just a feeling I’ve always had…I’m referring to the process, not the act.

Perhaps I’m putting too much down in writing. Does it matter? This is my life, my blog, my words, my truth, and the truth is what matters.

 

Hello, new era?

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This past week I have entered a new sort of era. I do know that it has to do with being either a pacifist or harboring resentment. While I have always thought the decision would be a no-brainer, it’s not. It’s not that I don’t know what the “right” choice is; the problem is that it is really difficult for me to let go of this anger rage inside of me. There are a few things that caused me to realize something is going on:

1. The cessation of a rather long friendship. While hurtful things were said to me, I feel that I handled the situation correctly & found myself feeling bad for any ill feelings I had towards this person. I was filled with empathy & concern for said individual & want only the best in life, mostly peace of mind, for her.

2. Dick really screwed up. And while usually what would piss me off the most is the fact that he’s not sincerely remorseful, because he doesn’t realize he SHOULD BE REMORSEFUL! Oddly enough, I chalk that one off to his being a male, and perhaps even more oddly, it’s easy for me to overlook his lack of insight due to being male. Let me clarify something- Dick has always been kind towards my children, who, by the way, have had him in their lives for the past 15 years; that’s over 1/2 of Jack’s life. Dick, however, hasn’t made any effort to be a step-father & in our last counseling session, I told him had I known it would have been like this, I wouldn’t have stayed with him. And regardless of how much I may love him, that is the god’s honest truth. I love my children more & always will.

So, regarding Jack: Jack was supposed to pick up his safe from the condo he was renting from Dick & that was sold. I thought Dick & I were on the same page, but it seems we weren’t. Dick had a customer meet him @ the condo & they took the safe to his customer’s house. When Dick came home over an hour late he told me he got tied up at work with a different customer, and that his cellphone died, which was why he let me worry for over an hour that he may be in an accident. In case you missed it: he told me TWO lies. This also means that he told his friend the situation with Jack & I know his friend (customer) well as he’s been over here a number of times – I know they both talked shit on Jack. I told Dick if his customer comes over here & as much as says 1 bad word about my son, he will wish I had gnawed both of his balls off because that will be less painful!! I will fucking rag on every single weakness I know of his, his wives & all of his children…I will verbally fuck him up. As for Dick? You don’t involve non-family in family shit. There are 2 things that really bother me: he’s never made an effort to be a step-father to Jack, yet thought nothing of involving someone else in a family problem – the anti-thesis of a good stepfather. The other thing that bothers me is he lied to me. He lied to me. He lied to me. He lied to me. Granted, I’ve not always told him everything & I’m sure he hasn’t either, but to deliberately LIE is a completely different ballgame. As of this moment, I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him. There needs to be some resolution in this area & I think we may have to talk about it at next week’s therapy.

The other big no-no Dick did & this involves my daughter. Gee, can you say ‘fuck over both of my kids in 1 fell swoop?” He was supposed to give Jill $800-$1000 once the condo sold because she helped clean it up, take the dogs out when perspective buyers showed up & let them inside. Now he has talked to her (He told her not to tell me so I don’t “worry” about it…I wouldn’t fucking worry, this time I would rip Dick’s balls off!!) So what does he purpose doing? Being that Jill will be living here (paying rent) he was going to let her live for 2 weeks for free ($150), pay off the utilities she owed ($100), charge off what he paid to fix patio area ($200 max) so that comes to $450?? He owes her between $400-$600 & he thinks this is just gonna be overlooked? NOT. As I said, I’m not supposed to know about this. But I think this is going to have to be discussed in our therapy session, which, if my counselor handles it like I think he will, may be our last therapy session.

3. And so onto the final situation – that was today & involved nobody I know, or nothing. Rather, an image of a pig. I got so angry at humanity, myself included, at how we treat & slaughter pigs for our own eating pleasure. And don’t get me wrong, I LOVE pork, but pigs are not dumb animals. Unlike cows (I love them too), pigs know when they’re about to be killed; they’re the 3rd smartest animal after only chimpanzee & dolphins (they may be 4th, but I’m too lazy to look it up right now). Anyways, as I was looking at these images for my Etsy shop, I saw some images of real pigs & I looked into their beautiful eyes. They’re such a lovable creature. They aren’t predators, they are prey. They aren’t filthy, they’re actually very clean. They lie in mud because they have no sweat glands, so if they don’t lie in mud, they will die. They don’t intentionally stand in their own shit, that’s because their owners give them a little square to live in, to eat in, to shit in…doesn’t take much to figure that one out. Our pig doesn’t eat where she poops or pees, and she goes to the bathroom far away from where her food is, or where she lays down. So, part of that anger/sadness is geared towards myself.

The spectrum of my feelings hate/love violence/peace, such drastics, does not make sense. But, this is where I’m at. Now I have all of these issues I’m faced with & I need closure of some sort. But I’m not going to force it. I believe something greater is obviously going on inside of me & I’m afraid if I try to force this issue, it will come to an awkward end, one in which I will be forced to face again in the near future. So, for now, this will remain a swatch of material that has its ends untied, and I believe, this is the way it’s supposed to be.

Namaste,

Jane

I want to be a tree of love

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This past week I’ve learned a very important lesson. It’s not like I was seeking for an answer to something, the situation I wrote about in my last post just fell in my lap.  And how very selfish of me to feel distraught over something happening to someone else, yet this person is actually dying. I mean dying as in he has 6 weeks to 2 months to live. Ron has cancer, I’m not sure where it started but it’s moved to his brain & he’s had 2 strokes.

I only met Ron 1 time, that was when I was helping Jill move in ~ she was going to rent a room there. She was told about Ron’s cancer the first time she met him & that was actually 1 of the reasons she was going to rent a room there. He’d recently lost his dog & Jill thought her dog would bring him joy, and she did.

Within a day chaos happened, involving Ron having to go to the hospital by ambulance, a vulture-like ex-wife that swooped in & started taking as many of his posessions as possible. That was the last time we saw him, probably the last time we will ever see him.

As a mother, I can see the pain it will spare my daughter. But as a compassionate human being, my heart absolutely breaks for Ron. He is living out his last days with his ex-wife (who told my kids that she can hardly stand him being there), but he wants to reconcile with his daughters. I don’t know any of those details. His ex also claims to be a “prophet” and as I was discussing the situation today a bible verse came to mind: “You can tell a tree by the fruit it bears.”  Is it an apple tree? A pear tree? Does it bear love and empathy? No, not the “prophet” tree; that tree bears greed, malice, ill intent, selfishness, hatred, chaos…I could go on & on, but I’ve made my point. The fact that she does it all in the name of “God” makes it infuriating.

So, my lesson, my most important life-altering lesson is this: When all is said and done, and you are in your last days, or a loved one is ~ all that matters is that they’re surrounded by loved ones & that they know they are deeply loved. Nothing in this universe is as powerful as unconditional love. A loving hand, gently holding yours as you slip away to another, peaceful realm.

Don’t get me wrong, there are selfish, material things that I want. But when push comes to shove, give me a loving hand to hold & the face of a loved one to gaze at. Those diamonds, fancy shoes and whatnot? They’re worthless.

Does everything really happen for a reason?

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I’ve been sleeping a lot; I know its not very good for me,  but it feels soooo good. The part that isn’t good for me is “why” I’m sleeping a lot. It’s to avoid life, actually. Compared to many people I am SO very fortunate- I’ve got a roof over my head, food, clothing, a bed… just to name a few things.

But right now I am wallowing in my misery & helplessness. Last time I wrote that everything was up in the air, but I could see it falling perfectly in place. WRONG. The house my daughter moved into was the most bizarre experience & fortunately, she is out of there! So right now she’s kind of going from place to place – safe places with family. Next week sometime she’ll come to live with us & Dick says she can stay “temporarily” well, he’s got another thing coming to him. If she needs to stay here a few years so that she can go to college to have an actual career, then she will!

Although she is 30, she’s never had to opportunity or finances to be able to go to college. She hasn’t lived with me since she was 16 years old & I’ll be damned if anyone tells her she can only stay here for a certain period of time. So, Dick wants to talk to my therapist about this on Saturday & that’s fine. I’m not backing down. Part of the reason Dick said he bought this house was in case our family needed it. We have FOUR bedrooms & only TWO of us!! He works days, she works nights ~ they’d hardly see each other. Aside from that, she is truly one of the sweetest, most respectful person I have ever met. Her achilles heal is that she is sloppy, doesn’t pick up after herself and that will have to change cuz I’m not picking up after her.

Another benefit of her living here is she’d be paying rent. Dick is ALWAYS worried about our finances & here is a steady source of income. If he says no, I will seriously consider moving out & getting a place with Jill. This is the 1 area where, had I known he would be like this with my kids, I wouldn’t have stayed with him – well, actually, I would’ve given him a choice to accept & treat my kids as if they were his (their dad is not in their lives). We’ve been together 15 years now & there is still no familial feeling between he & my kids; that is mainly on his shoulders.

Right now I find myself in a situation I never would’ve expected and my mantra of “everything happens for a reason” is really being tested.

The Start

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I’ve been thinking about writing my 1st blog post to give this place that has kinda been a 2nd home for me, a proper rebirth. It’s finally occurred to me, there is no perfect way to start this again, and if there were, I’d still find something wrong with it. And so, rather than write about 1 thing that’s pressing on my mind, I’m going to bullet a bunch, as everything is somewhat calm in my life right now, ie: this is a safe time to dive in.

  1. I do not expect anyone else to read this blog, and with that understanding, I am 100% satisfied that whatever I write – whatever insight I put out into the universe (LOL) – will be well-received, even if I am the sole beneficiary from said insight.
  2. I’m doing quite well, as are Dick, my kids, my mom, our pig & the rest of our family.
  3. Since March I have been my mom’s primary caregiver, and while it has been a burden at times, it has mostly been an honor, so valuable that nothing in the world could pry it out of my hands.
  4. My mom, btw, has made a remarkable comeback. Up until August, my sister & I actually believed my mom was living the very last part of her life. We are both SO glad to have been wrong.  My mom is now living in an assisted-living facility where she is absolutely thriving!
  5. My siblings & I consist of 3 males, 2 females. In case anyone else EVER reads this, please read this: Women, Sisters, Females – Please do not expect your brothers to step up to the plate like you will have to. You can hint, make phone calls that you need help, tell them face to face that your parent needs to hear their voice or see their face, send group family emails with suggestions, ideas, tell how rewarding it is to be a part of such a remarkable recovery. For the most part, 9 our of 10 times, it’s going to fall on deaf male ears. Why? I don’t know. It’s not that they don’t love your parents as much as you do; it has to be some sort of personality defect. All I’m saying is if you don’t expect it in the 1st place, you won’t be disappointed. (BTW, my therapist told me back in Feb. this would be the case) ((I got majorly lucky with Dick cuz he is SUCH a great son to his parents…he’s gonna be that 1 of 10 that mans-up))
  6. All my Sag’s (Dick, Jill & Jack are all Sagittarius’s) are in transition right now. Both my kids are moving and we’re selling the condo – so it’s a feeling of everything being thrown up in the air. But there is an odd feeling this time, it’s like I can already see everything coming back down to earth in slow motion and landing perfectly in place.
  7. I had been doing some “art”, I hesitate to call it art because, quite frankly, I am not an artist. But I do enjoy creating different things, mainly for therapy. Sometimes I have a difficult time with words so throwing paint on paper, or drawing an angry face, is a much easier way for me to express myself. Anyways, the desire is starting to come back and that makes me happy.

Okay, I’ve already exhausted myself! Done for now

Insanely,

Jane