I think I needed that.

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Today my therapist laughed at me. At some point we worked our way around to how to continue processing abuse stuff in a limited way in that little box over there in the corner so that there isn’t ‘leakage’ into the rest of my life. These are important things to consider when planning how to end the cycle of abuse or build a nuclear reactor plant. Just sayin’. I came around to the idea of a support group. Yes! That is what I need! A support group for mothers with mental illness or mothers who are survivors of abuse. Yes! Because then I can have people who are in the same place as me who can give me advice because I suck and I’m not figuring it all out. She almost fell out of her chair laughing. Apparently she thinks they don’t have much to teach me. We actually spent the rest of our time together talking about a workshop she has been dying to lead…and she has been trying to figure out how to talk to me about it. Because she thinks I have a lot to teach about doing this. She views my recent blip as as really… nothing to write home about when dealing with mothers who were victimized. No lines have been crossed. No one has been harmed. No actual damage has been perpetrated. Ok, my tone of voice sucks sometimes. Why am I crucifying myself? We spent a lot of time talking about victim/rescuer judge/(can’t think of the word but you catch my point). It was really neat. It was interesting having her point out on this little graph how I was moving around in my relationship with Shanna. We talked about specifics of how to step out of it and she said that really the only thing she would have suggested is what I started doing yesterday. It was very validating. She more or less gave me a check list of things to think about when considering parenting stuff and that was extremely useful. It was also nice to be reminded that as a parent it really and truly isn’t my job to ensure that my kids like me. Making them happy at all costs is really not the right road to a happy adulthood because they will be total assholes. But I digress. 🙂

I’m always going to be kind of messy (like emotionally and psychically) and weird. But that’s ok. So is everyone else if I look at them closely enough. I am not a bad person. I want to stop treating myself like I am. No matter how much I want to believe that I am a monster in the making, I’m really not. I’m not abusing my kids. I’m not hurting them. I’m loving on them and giving them lots of attention and affection and support. Why do I only see the 4 seconds I yell and decide that is the only important 4 seconds of the day? It’s really not. All the time I spend patiently showing Shanna every step of ‘how to do things right’ even when it is challenging to let her do it. For every time I say, “Man you’ve been working on that! You couldn’t do that a week ago. I wonder what you will be able to do next week.” I see her. I love her. I don’t need to buy her love. I make a vow today, I will stop acting like I have to buy my daughter’s love. That course of action will result in both of us losing.

Picking up my basket

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I really like the movie “The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood”. It’s far from being a perfect analogy for my life but I see familiar things in it and ultimately it is a hopeful movie. Yeah, the mom fucked up pretty bad and she is hurt and ashamed by that for the rest of her life. And her daughter has issues, but she also has a pretty great life and a wonderful partner etc. It’s one of those, “Yes moms can be really imperfect and the kids still turn out somehow” sorts of things. Given how frequent a trope that is I’m pretty confident the worry exists in other minds as well, minds that don’t work like mine. Anyway. At one point the mother describes her own mental breakdown as “I dropped my basket.” Since I heard that line I think of it often when I’m having trouble carrying around all my shit. It’s like the basket got too heavy so I had to set it down for a while. For most of my life I have set it down as long as I needed to and slowly picked up one item at a time. But uhm, things are different now. I’m reading parenting books and near as I can tell every single one says, “Hey! You know how you behave when you are cheerful and doing ok? Yeah? Ok! That’s perfect! Do that for the rest of your life without let up and everything will work out!” Cause yeah, when I’m on the ball I do this parenting thing pretty well like I taught well. I genuinely enjoy interacting with kids like this. But it is hard. It is unrelentingly hard. And I dropped my basket. But Shanna has informed me that it is time to pick my basket up again. Her behavior is slipping. She’s acting out more. I honestly don’t know how it will work to just decide, “I am not going into denial or ‘stuffing’ my feelings I just need to set them in this box I look in once a week.” I don’t know if I have really tried this before. I can tell you right now that I am nervous. This is hard. Honestly this feels slightly like a step in the wrong direction in terms of worrying about multiples. 😛 But these thoughts are dominating my entire life and that just isn’t working. I can’t be that self-absorbed anymore. I had like a 7 week breakdown. That’s a fucking long time in the life of a child. It has to just end, now. *beat head against wall*

Maybe I should read parenting books more often

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So I’m picking around Becoming The Parent You Want To Be. I’ve been kind of poking at it intermittently for years. It is interesting to have it reaffirmed that no really, it’s ok for my kid to be kind of weird and different from other people. If she’s happy, secure, and prepared for success in life there isn’t a thing wrong with being weird. Maybe I should stop listening to other peoples parenting advice.

How ironic that I want a parenting advice book to tell me to stop taking advice. Ha. I’m a moron.

Boundaries.

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I’m noticing that I’m not using good boundaries lately. That’s a problem in pretty much every part of my life. Maybe I need to try and shelve the old shit again for a while and try to switch focus to more immediate boundary issues. I wonder if this will work. :-\

Just thinking out loud

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Do other people get to have epiphanies one time and then they change whatever they realized needed changing and they are fine forever? I really suck at that bit. For me it kind of works like, “Oh no! This is a huge thought! This is life changing! Oh shit! la la la living life la la la Oh shit! Here is this different situation! I have to have this huge thought about it! Oh shit! It’s the same thought as last time! I was too stupid to remember it! Fuck.” Apparently in my head exclamation points are king. I don’t have a lot of patience for this cycle in myself. It drives me batshit. Isn’t that the smart kid/perfectionist in me? It’s not ok to make mistakes? It is certainly unacceptable to make the same mistake over and over but similar mistakes also make me pathetic! But no pressure.

No pressure. (by the way if this actually works it’ll be my first time posting one of my medicated stream of thoughts things, let me know if this is coherent. most of it feels terribly profound in my head this second. ha.) No pressure. God I hate that expression. I am so tired of the casual demeaning of stress and how much it affects people. Pressuring people is so very very awful. But man I am getting off topic. See, I’m nervous. I don’t want to say the same things over and over again because that’s boring, right? People don’t want to listen to the same problems over and over again. It’s whiny. It’s pathetic. It lowers the whiners social capital. And I don’t have a lot left to lose. Although I suppose, to be fair, I would be really surprised if anyone who is currently showing up in my life disappeared. I might lose internet readers. Whoopie? Ok. On with my whining.

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Double plus ungood.

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I stayed sober yesterday longer than is my custom right now because I had to drive in the evening. By 10 pm when I got home my stomach hurt so badly that I felt like I was going to vomit on the ground at any second.

I need to get a handle on this anxiety. I am falling apart and this can’t continue.

This is why I think I am not abusive.

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I had to step out of the bathroom for about a minute and a half while Shanna was taking a bath. She soaked the whole freaking room. This is totally standard, doesn’t every kid do this? My mom beat the shit out of me. I told Shanna that I was very frustrated because what she did created a lot of work for me and I was going to be cranky while I cleaned it up. My tone of voice wasn’t awesome. But beyond the initial, “Shanna what are you doing!” I wasn’t loud.

I hate that I feel like I have to prove this to anyone but mostly myself.

Why things feel rocky.

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Something that I don’t know that I made clear in my last post is why it is such a big deal to get this validation. My mom and sister are really good at crazy making. They deny reality. If you have never lived with people like that you can’t really understand in your gut. “Oh you poor thing. I’m so sorry you were molested” turns into “Oh. So you were molested?” Then it morphs again into, “I don’t know what you are talking about. That isn’t possible. You should stop talking.” That can take as little as about 15 minutes.

Called my brother

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So really what happened is I called my brother days ago and we’ve played phone tag since then. Anyway. Tonight we really talked. We talked for 45 minutes and there were so many little subtopics. He said he believes me absolutely 100% without question on all of it. I spent a while sobbing and spilling out my memories of our father and what he did to me. I kept apologizing to him because I know he doesn’t want to hear it but he told me that he is willing to listen to whatever I need to say. He considers my mental health more important than his momentary discomfort at hearing these stories. That’s huge. That’s monumental. I mean, it’s not like we are suddenly going to be close and spend time together. But I was just told by a person in my immediate family that the fucked up version of reality I knew growing up was indeed happening. I am not crazy. I am not imagining any of it. I am not lying. My mother and sister can go fuck themselves.

He believes me. He heard what actually happened and he believes me. He told me that yes, I am used as the scapegoat by everyone. My brother believes me.

More kid musing

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It’s kind of weird writing this stuff here because the internet is forever. How will my kids feel about so many random people being able to find so much about them? Kind of an interesting thing to think about. But, here’s more anyway. 🙂

I think that nursing is a skill and Shanna was good at it and Calli is kind of awful. Seeing as I just read a chunk of The Birth Order Book yesterday that’s kind of funny. Apparently it is completely standard for second children to go the exact opposite of the older child. Fair enough. Calli seems to have a really hard time regulating my milk flow. She has one nursing speed: full bore. (Is that the right spelling? bore? boar? Darn Noah for not being awake yet!) This means she coughs and chokes and sputters. Still. She’s six months old. She should bloody well have figured out this nursing thing by now. (said lightheartedly) She also yanks really hard as she whips her head around. She can’t lie still on my lap. At all. Ever. She is either waving her arms or her legs or rolling her head back and forth or tapping her foot or… On my best days I think this is the coolest thing in the world. She has so much energy to burn it isn’t funny. I think that is a positive thing. On the worst days I can’t stand having her on me to nurse and I contemplate supplementing with formula. This thought kind of horrifies the lactivist in me. :-\ I’m actually nervous about giving her a bottle though. Yes I know I could pump, but I kind of suspect she would love switching to a low flow bottle and never nursing again. I don’t think I am up for committing to another couple of years exclusively pumping. That is my nightmare. It’s complicated. So far I am just working constantly on nursing manners. I believe in letting kids nurse full term.

Shanna is being restricted to one nursing a day because she doesn’t seem to be able to stop biting. I think her mouth has changed and biologically she’s ready to be done. Emotionally she totally isn’t. *sigh* It’s hard because nursing is her biggest comfort in case of something awful happening or if she is feeling particularly insecure but it wicked hurts and puts me in a horrible mood. :-\ Not a great plan then. I feel like completely weaning at this time would be a bit much for her. She’s had enough adjustments lately–new bed in a new bedroom (alone by herself for the first time in her life), potty training, new sister, extra vaccines lately because of the travel, I’ve been having a hard time all on my own and she notices. I seem to have given up on complete sentences. Interesting. So I feel like I’m trying to give Shanna a bit longer before I force weaning. We are talking about it and leading up to it. I think her birthday will be the cut off. Eek. Poor baby girl. 🙁

And I really don’t have time for more. ack

smks: identity

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While flipping through a catalog I said to Shanna, “Ok, which one of you is the tomboy and which one is the ultra femme? I want to start decorating.” (Yes I had a playful tone of voice and I was kidding.)

Shanna said, “We are not tomboys and we are not ultra femmes. We are Shanna and Calli.”

Elephant in the room

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I’ve started and stopped this post at least 20 times. I smoke pot. There. I’ve said it. I have a medical prescription for anxiety and it really really helps. I can go from having super intense panic attacks so nasty I feel like I am dying to being calm and cheerful in a few minutes. I feel like this is the miracle I have been waiting for most of my life. I feel like I get a boost in seratonin. I really feel cheerful. I can be so very patient. On days when we just can’t find a calm/safe space for us to interact if I go into time out for 10 minutes we can go back to doing just fine.

But I feel guilty. I feel like this proves that I am a horrible mother. I don’t smoke all the time. I don’t smoke around my kids. But I feel guilty. This is a crutch. I have tried a lot of psych meds and had no luck. This is amazing. While I am high I feel comfortable in my skin which is pretty much anamolous in my world.

But I feel guilty because as my friend said “The people who used drugs when I was growing up were jerks” and I’m terrified of becoming them. People who use drugs are BAD. I don’t want to be BAD. But I keep on chores better when I am smoking regularly (no lie, it’s weird), I like my life more.

This is complicated. And it’s now part of me. I’m not sure if I am a permanent user or if I am just getting through this patch. We’ll see. This is the right choice for now. (Before anyone starts in on eating instead of smoking–I’m trying. It’s hard to find a consistent method that way.)

Question month

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A friend humored me and asked me silly questions:
What is your name?
What is your quest?
What is the average airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?

My name is Krissy. Not Kristy. Not Chrissy. Not Chryssi. Not Crissy. Not Krissie. Not Krissi. Man I’ve gotten some weird misspellings.

To find contentment with my life. It’s an awesome life. I just wish I directly enjoyed it more.

No clue. 🙂

If anyone else has any questions you can backtrack to that post. I mostly make the assumption that because I haven’t met many new people question month is kind of pointless at this point. I overshare beyond what people want to know anyway.

Spring

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For the previous three years since Shanna was born I have been feeling increasing levels of desire to have green in my surroundings. I miss the mountains. I miss walking outside on spring mornings and closing my eyes and hearing the mist in the trees. It was wonderful. So now I am settled in a more arid land. Clay soil and suburban lawns as far as the eye can see. Yuck. I’ve been working on amending the soil (big thanks to my cousins last year) and I’m adding plants every year. So far it seems that most plants make it and a few don’t. I always have at least a few that won’t take. I consider this the cost of doing business and move on with my life. 🙂

I need to work on creating more shade in my yard. Right now it is so directly, brutally hot that it isn’t very fun to play out there for a lot of the summer. I want there to be more greenery. I’m working on it. A friend is moving out of state (this is not going to be a net-win for me) which is very sad but she is leaving me with her extensive collection of potted plants. I could not be more thrilled.

One of these years I’ll get my hands on paving stones and I’ll start doing the hardscaping in the front yard. I kind of figure it’s ok if it takes me I while. I have a lot of springs ahead of me.

Noah humored me and spent some time out back with me this weekend. I really enjoyed that. I feel a lot of joy in being outside and I’m not sure exactly how it works for me. That sounds odd. Sometimes feeling outside is wonderful and sometimes I’m just not happy with it. I’m not sure what the conditions are specifically. I do know that early spring/late winter is my favorite. The weather is in the 60’s but the sun is shining beautifully in between much needed rain bursts. To me this feels like when God is restoring blessings upon life. It feels so peaceful out in my yard enjoying the green.

Now why the hell is everyone so damn depressed.

PSA

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Today my friend Mollena has been sober for four years. I think that is amazing. That takes power and strength and dedication. I am deeply grateful for her friendship and it probably wouldn’t be where it is today if she had not finally taken the steps to attain sobriety. It’s such a big deal Mo, I love you.

And the good moments

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So between first nap and second nap we played together. First we played with legos in the house then we spend almost an hour in the back yard mostly playing in the sand box. The very best moment was when Shanna and I were digging together and singing songs about how awesome we all are and Calli was leaning over from her perch on my lap, laughing. It was beautiful. And later Shanna was telling me some very silly story about the scary cat running through our yard and I was holding Calli above my head and looking at her. Then I remember why I chose this life.

Where is the line where the good outweighs the bad or vice versa? I’m not sure I know. But I’m having more fun than not because the good moments are really beautiful.

Bad moment

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Calli is sobbing her heart out on my back. She wants to be lying on my lap nursing on the couch. I just can’t do that anymore. I did that through Shanna’s babyhood and right now that will be the straw that breaks the camels back. I just cannot endure that again. So Calli cries. Crying is even an inadequate word for what she is doing. She is screaming and flailing and pounding on me. She is having a tantrum. It’s not that she is starving because she doesn’t want to nurse in any other position. She just wants to comfort nurse to sleep. Trapping me. And I just can’t do it anymore. Not with Shanna whining at me all.day.long. for food. And sometimes as I pace the house I cry. Because how could I have wanted this to be my life.