a chink in the armor

so. you know those serious things rolling in my brain that i mentioned last post? turns out they won’t go away, so here i am writing about it. you know what that mean…prepare for serious with only a small side of humor. ~sigh~ stupid serious thoughts. why can’t they just take a hike? oh wait…this is me…and NO part of me is even remotely interested in anything that has the word hike associated with it…so…yeah, guess that makes a little more sense. dang.

dear readers: i have a flaw. I KNOW! it was a shock to me too. i mean _ME_ the epitome of perfection. a flaw. ~gasp~ a chink in the armor. a weakness. an achilles heel. i’ll give you a moment to absorb this. it was earth shifting for me as well.

ok…so. i’ve learned a bad habit or behaviour over the years and i need to UNLEARN it. not so easy after 30 years. especially when i’m just now admitting to it. i’ve known it was there for a year or two, but i hoped it was something i wouldn’t have to learn how to deal with. but…as goes life…it happens to be in an area that you can’t really ignore. or i should say the ignoring is half the problem.

so what is this tragic flaw? i have no conflict resolution abilities. as in NONE. as in the mere idea of talking about a problem sends me into a PANIC. having a serious discussion with someone TERRIFIES me. pee my pants, curled in fetal position in the corner, sucking my thumb, humming to myself TERRIFIED. throw up nervous. snakes on a plane FREAKING OUT.

i know. ME. of all people. the loud mouth, bitter, sarcastic bitch of all bitches. scared of an argument. of a discussion. of talking about ANYTHING that bothers me.

“but you’re doing it right now” you might think. well…yeah…BUT YOU CAN’T TALK BACK. sure, you might comment, you might mention something LATER, but right now in my little bloggers bubble it’s safe. see…this is a learned behaviour. and it goes WAY back. growing up we never talked about anything, let alone ARGUE. that was just something that was never done. my folks split before i knew what was going on, so i missed the battles there. and then when my mom remarried they NEVER, EVER let us see their problems. partially because my mom is 90% ostrich and will never admit that there ever have been even a hint of problems, and partially because the other 10% of her thought it would be damaging to us kids to see that. GUESS WHAT: ~shock~ i disagree. i believe it’s VERY HEALTHY for kids to see arguments between adults but even more than that SEE HOW THEY WORK IT OUT. so that way they know that not every discussion is the end of the world. things can be a huge problem, but it can be worked through. see that even if people get upset, or can’t agree, or have an all out battle it can be fixed and over come and it doesn’t always have to be an ugly, abusive, hurtful train wreck. it’s in the combination of the two words: conflict AND RESOLUTION. there’s going to be conflict at some point in life. GUA.RAN.TEED. it’s the RESOLUTION part of it that people need to learn/teach. and i have NO CLUE.

after growing up with my mom in the no conflict world, my oldest sons dad and i had a *ahem* few problems. we were 17 and pregnant. we had NO CLUE about life. there were some EPIC battles. hard core, all out BATTLES. and i usually ended up in tears (hormones…i totally blame the hormones) and nothing was ever resolved or worked through. after home, and baby daddy, i moved on to a horrible marriage. in my marriage i not only learned that i can’t talk about things that bother me, i can’t talk about ANYTHING. no opinions, no thoughts, nothing that wasn’t pre-approved. hell…the most epic/memorable battle was over green beans in the tater tot casserole. it turned into a SCREAMING fit of terror (him at me) to where i ended up in tears, on the kitchen floor, in emotional shreds. OVER GREEN BEANS PEOPLE.

so this has turned into me: unable to talk. try wrapping your head around that. ME: NOT TALKING.

i have things that bother me. i have things to talk about. things i NEED to talk about. they all start out as things that WOULD BE small issues, but i stuff them deep down and ignore them until i can’t stuff anymore and then there’s this huge earth ending explosion. and let me just say: not the best results. theyre small things would have been easy to work through and get over. but because i’m TERRIFIED of how it will go, i’m TERRIFIED of being torn down, i’m TERRIFIED of being walked away from…i just can’t do it. i can’t talk. and to me, it’s a very real fear: even in the last few years- the times i’ve tried to overcome this i’ve been gut kicked, torn to shreds and walked away from for MONTHS by close friends. sure, things usually (not always) cool off and come back around, but if this happens even over the little things…how on earth could i ever talk about something BIG? and so i don’t. i just push it all away to a back, dark, quiet corner and HOPE that it never reaches that boiling point. and it’s NOT healthy, by any stretch of the imagination.

and i know part of it is a shift in thinking for me: these can be discussions, not arguments, not battles. but history has taught me there are no discussions, ONLY arguments. and how do you unlearn that? you need someone you can argue in a healthy way with. someone you can DISCUSS with and not have it turn into a death cage match. and i haven’t found someone like that yet. friend, partner, family…anywhere. i have people that like to tell me i’m wrong for what i’m feeling. i have people that tell me what i can say and how i can say it. i have people that only want to say their side. i have people that laugh at my side.

why did this all come up? well: two reasons. there are a few parts of my life that i can feel reaching that boiling point again. and i’m TERRIFIED of when that will happen. if i can’t find another way to deal with it…i’m scared of losing people. also: i know that i never learned the right way which means i won’t be able to teach the right way. my kids are getting old enough and we’re starting to have different opinions and voices at my house- i need to learn SOON so i can show the HEALTHY and GOOD way to work through things. i don’t want them to go through life with this feeling of having no voice or being scared to say what they feel/think. i want them to know they can come to me and it might get ugly depending on the topic, but we WILL find an answer, and we WILL make it out the other side TOGETHER.

~sigh~

i’m done now. anyone wanna fight?

trying to explain depression

so i battle depression. and by battle i mean full on gladiator style battle some days. a dohyo face off with the world’s biggest sumo wrestler. most people kinda get it- they’ve had bad days or been sad about something. some have no clue and like to mock depression as stupid/weak/imaginary. until recently i’ve never really thought of a way to fully explain it. explain what it feels, like, how real it is, anything in a way that makes sense. i think this explains it. for me anyway:
remember when you were a kid and your big brother thought it would be funny to hold you under a huge thick blanket and keep you there as long as he could? yeah…it’s like that. like being trapped under grandma’s giant afghan (and yes, i very specifically picked an afghan) until you screamed uncle. and even then most times my brother still wouldn’t let me up. it’s like that. an afghan: it’s huge and heavy and dark but there are always little places where light pokes through and sometimes you can find an edge to pull back. depression is like that. you’re trapped under this huge, heavy, dark blanket fighting like hell to find an edge or a way to get out but in the mean time every once in a while you can see little spots of light that give you a little hope and let you know that at least you’re not stuck under the blanket AND locked in the trunk of the car AND on the way to be encased in cement (if my brother could have thought of it…he would have).
and i get that depression is so different for everyone. the things they’re dealing with are different. the way they experience it and how much it impacts them is different. but for me, people can’t understand my depression. yes, i’m depressed, i’m stuck under this huge fucking blanket being smothered and fighting like hell to try to get out, but during the fight there’s these spots of light. those are moments of happiness, breaks in the clouds.

just because i’m depressed doesn’t mean i don’t have good moments and just because i have good moments doesn’t mean i’m not depressed.

even in the worst of it i will still try to crack a joke or enjoy a moment or sing along with a song. i still try to put on my happy face (which i suck at by the way). i’m sure everyone knows something is off. i know i’m not fooling anyone, i know i’m not good at hiding shit, and part of me thinks i shouldn’t have to, but at the same time they don’t know how deep it is. but there’s these holes in the afghan…i’m peeking out through those, reminding myself what’s on the outside and what i’m fighting to get back to. little glimpses of light and life. if i do have a few good moments, it doesn’t mean i’m “cured” it just means i had a moment where i saw a little light. i’m still stuck. i’m still trapped under that huge fucking weight with the universe sitting on my chest laughing and not letting me up. but then there’s times when you actually feel like you’re winning the battle…you manage to find an edge and peek out and get a breath and feel like yourself again, but then big brother notices and ducks you back under the blanket for another round and usually packs an extra punch just because. those are the most frustrating. you think you’re clear, you think you’re out…then just as suddenly, you’re not. i don’t know if it ever goes away. when i was a kid my brother would get bored or get in trouble and have to let me out…i’m not sure real depression plays by those rules. in fact, i’m pretty damn sure it doesn’t play by any rules.

and i’ve had doctors and people tell me that there are medications to help. and i’ve tried a few. and i will never try any again. they make the crazy worse (again, just me speaking). they say right on the package it will take MONTHS, yes MONTHS to adjust to them and know if they’re working and then MONTHS to wean yourself off of them if you ever want to stop. umm…no thanks. i still have to function in the mean time. i don’t exactly have a few months away from kids and life to try to adjust to some medication that may or may not work. they also say exercise is the answer- is there anything exercise ISN’T the answer to? fucking retards. i’m sure it works at some point. it gives you something to focus on and i’m sure it helps you feel better physically eventually (although everyone that i know that works out complains about always being sore…sooo…). and i’m sure whatever else goes with it is magical shit on a cloud, but i just can’t get into it. never have. i’m one of those people that has spent THOUSANDS on exercise equipment and videos and trying to get into it- i’ve had the gazelle, the elliptical, the videos, the exercise balls, the yoga mats…i just can’t get into it.

what’s the point of this? what am i really trying to say? i don’t know. i just want to say it’s real. and i’m fighting it. but i get tired. and i get worse. and i get better. it goes around and around. but it’s real. it’s very real. please don’t tell me on the days when i want to give up that i’m just being weak and stupid. please understand that i’ve been battling this for as long as i can remember and i get tired. i get exhausted. please don’t laugh at me or think it’s all fake just because i have a good moment or a good day or a good week. some days i’m stronger than others. some days a kindergartner hopped up on pixie sticks could kick my ass. it’s just been so frustrating listening to people say that my brother was weak and cowardly and gave up or couldn’t deal when he took his own life. i don’t see it that way. i think because i’ve fought the battles he fought. i’m still fucking fighting them. and if anything, his death has scared the fucking shit out of me because if he lost the fight…who’s to say i won’t? and i know it’s a personal choice and it’s a personal decision to continue on or not. but i understand why he chose not. i understand how tired and hurt and broken he felt. and more than once i’ve wanted to make the same choice. and more than once i’ve felt that it was too much and wanted a way out.
i guess i just want people to understand it better. understand me better. that’s all.

i am not afraid

i'm still afraid. that's not entirely true. i'm still terrified. to the point of shaking and feeling sick to my stomach when i think about it. to the point where it derails my day, i become focused and my already high-gear mind goes into super overdrive. i instantly want to hide, to cry. i feel instantly defenseless, weak, stupid, small, insignificant. it's been five years. FIVE YEARS and i still feel this way. after not even two years. it took me about 2 hours to decide to send an email today, and then when a response came in i was instantly sick and almost started crying.

who is this person? who is this weak, scared girl? where is the super woman that isn't afraid of anyone? where's the person that chews out teachers when they insult my kids? where's the woman that calls people on their crap and doesn't take shit from anyone? where is the super mom that can handle anything on any day (as long as there's mascara and chapstick in the utility belt)? where is the woman that doesn't walk anywhere...she struts...hell, POWER STRUTS.

for the people that say domestic violence is only the type that leaves physical bruises...BULLSHIT. there are things worse than bruises. way worse. fuck...i would rather deal with a bruise any day of the week than this.

i suppose an explanation would be helpful about now: child support stopped coming in a few weeks ago for smaller child. this means that ex has either a) moved again, b) lost his job, or c) both. myspace has been great for tracking him in the past...it's how i found out he moved to arizona last year, and found out where he was working and was able to get support started again after the same thing happened last august. well, myspace isn't giving up any information this go round...EXCEPT for the new "whole family" picture he posted with new wife and new kids. i was about 10% offended for my son that he isn't part of "the whole family" but 90% relieved that he isn't part of that "whole family" and is 100% a part of my whole family instead. so, in search of more information, i checked to see if he had a facebook page started, and sure enough he does...and he's listed as living in spokane now. it seriously took me several hours to decide to email him because that means he can find me (yes, i know he could have found me anyway, but i don't like to think of that). and i'm still so terrified of him...i'm terrified of what his response will be. i'm terrified that he'll want to see my son (which would be the most horrible thing ever). i'm terrified that he'll start yelling and screaming at me again reducing me to the sad, ever apologizing, half of a person that i was 5 years ago when i was married. and the sad, defenseless person i was two years ago when i had to face him in court for a child support revision. i'm still terrified of him.

and i'm still terrified of who i was when i was with him. and i'm terrified of becoming that person again with anyone else...which is the main reason why there hasn't been anyone else. i don't get close to people. i try like hell not to care about or get attached to people (guys) because in my twisted mind they're all like him. and in my twisted mind if they're all like him, then i'll become like her again. that sad girl who was afraid to use the phone. the girl who wouldn't leave the house without makeup because he would be mad. the girl who could only wear certain clothes or talk to certain people. the girl who was scared to make dinner because if he didn't like it there would be hell to pay (and a never touched tater tot casserole in the fridge for a month). i don't want to be the girl who won't eat pineapple again. the girl who waited by the phone all night because if i missed any of his calls from work i would be in trouble. i don't want to be the girl that spent $30,000 on things to try to keep him happy and only realized too late that there would never ever be enough things to accomplish that.

five years and i still haven't figured out how NOT to be terrified. i've moved on for the most part. i'm back to who i was before any of that happened. i'm a strong, independent, successful, amazing person...until i have to deal with the past. a huge part of me wants to just say FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, knock his lights out and be over it. maybe that's it. maybe i've never had a chance to show him the strong person i am and let him know he can't bully me any more...mostly because any time i have to be near him i panic (ok...that's not fair...the only time i've seen him was in court which was stressful and panic inducing, not necessarily because of him...). maybe that's it. i know i'm not that person any more. and i can't be that person ever again. and i just have to be me. all the time. he can't hurt me ever again. he can't hurt my family. i can't be scared of him. there's nothing to be scared of. he's just a sad bully. he has to make other people feel weak and small because he knows he's weak and small.

i will not be afraid. i will not be bullied. i am not scared. FUCK YOU ASSHOLE.