My Drishti.

Back again- Confession

I'm in therapy. We talked about my past.... Did anyone notice me being "different". Maybe. But then I got thinking, there was a lot of mania in my life. Overachiever extraordinaire. Gifted. Accelerated college program in high school. Honor rolls in college. And then I remember some super stupid decisions. A one night stand at the beach. A one night stand with a rich mans son. While in a long term relationship I had an affair with my almost fiances' best friend, and them with him and his wife. I moved from east coast to west cost, and back again to New York, then to virginia. I remember never sleeping- parties and going out and meeting people. And them I met my husband and somehow he changed me... Or possibly, I had just come down off a two year High. My family said " he's good for you, he settles you down". And now, I lay here on the couch ... Alone. Because he had to "rescue" a friend... By taking her out for drinks, to distract her from her ex boyfriend being found unconscious, a pill bottle beside him, after she broke up with him. And my husband to the rescue. Did I mention she's a stripper he met at a club?... My bad. Missing piece. And yet, I let him go bc I don't want to start a fight- I'm High, and I say a lot of stupid things right now. I'm mad mostly bc he went to her so fast. Moments after her text, he's got a coat and his keys and he's gone. But I ask for him to say to me "honey, your doing a great job fighting this, your trying so head, I'm proud of you"... But instead I get " you need to get it together. We need to have a good year"... Awesome. I totally lost it- in text form of course bc I can't fun front him. And nine days later we still haven't talked about it. And with his rescue mission, now I don't want to. To top it off, we get to take my daughter to the hospital. Bc of my inpatient stint she has stopped going to the bathroom TMI. So now, she has the belly of an Ethiopian solid as a rock and a fever of101.3. I'm tired and wired... I want off this roller coaster. I took my first full dose of my med- back on after an insurance mishap that lasted two months. I'm praying I can be strong enough to let it kick in... Distraction tactics engaged. Maybe more writing later. Not sure when my husband will be home, you know, after going to the rescue of his stripper best friend. Sleep on that. Not.

me: walking and out of breath... phone rings

her: are you breathing heavy? did i interrupt something?!

me: no... just walking, and out of breath.

her: Oh that's so great! i love running, it tones up everything, and gets you so firm! we should schedule a time for us to workout together!

me: absolutely not.

her: yay! let's look at - wait - what?

me: absolutely not.

her: i thought you were going to say absolutely yes! why?

me: because you are good at it, and i hate it.

her: oh. then... okay... so...

me: how's work?

(*insert other small talk)

her: so, i should let you get back to your walking! call you later! love you!

...

and thus begins the first invasion of my peaceful journey to not hate running.

Peace in fire form.

Pizza toppings

Daddy: what do you want for dinner Baby?

Baby: hock dawgs. (She is only two years old here)

Daddy: say again?

Baby: Hock dawwwgs, yesh please.

Mommee (that's me): or... Do you want pizza like Mommee and Daddy?

Baby: pizzaahh yesh pizzaahh. I wan pizzaahh and baloneyos...

Mommee: ...you want what?

Baby: baloneyOhs.

Daddy: what are "baloneyOhs" Baby?

Baby: (quite disdainfully) peeeeeetza wif bah-lone-eee-Ohs!

...

...

Get it?

Pizza with pepperoni.

She calls it that to this day. Love her!

So strange

This High. This has lasted for so much longer than the ones before I’m starting to wonder if it’s really me… Like, is this who I’m going to be? Am I back to being the upbeat and energetic and go go go person I used to be?… Or am I waiting for the other shoe to drop?

I’m not saying I don’t like it- it’s just strange… This waiting. I was waiting for a month, then two. Now it’s been four. And I’m still pretty okay. I mean, my High catches me sometimes - hence the last post about being intoxicated. I hammered that nail in deep. Super unlike me… I’ll do a good buzz on occasion, but word slurring, stumbling up stairs, hangover drunk? It’s been a long while.

So there’s one sign that maybe my High isn’t so good. Or maybe it’s a sign that it IS.

I’m still unable to put away laundry, clean dishes, hair bows or earrings in any sense of a timely manner. I’m still unable to process the fact that my forced speech makes others uncomfortable and look at me like I’m speaking in tongues. I can’t help myself from interrupting others’ conversations… I can hear it, I can feel it, I know I should just shut it— and, yup, there- there it goes. Out of my mouth. I think about things obsessively… People, projects, things I’ve said wrong, things I should have said. The hamster is not merely spinning in its wheel, it’s running an airplane engine. I want to write… I want to get all of this out of my head and down and just be done… And then another thought comes and I need to write more… If I don’t go now, I might not stop tonight.

question

...how do i, or can i make folders for pictures?  thanks bunches all!

THIS!!!!!!!!!! most of us feel like we aren't doing enough because we can't physically stop a genocide but speaking helps!! pressuring helps!! boycotting helps and protesting helps!! please don't give up on Palestinians not when the entire world has turned their backs on them

here is how YOU can help Palestine

Intoxicated

I am inebriated. Omg I spelled it.

this view is within walking distance of my house. ...also behind me is a four lane highway, but, whtevs.

So I never told you

Long ago and far away, in a blog about an eon ago, I said someday I’d write about the evil things my mother in law has said to me that certainly we not warranted nor appreciated, rather encapsulated exactly the kind of self righteous person she is.

…About five days into my ordered detachment from my three month old daughter after having delusions of grandeur within my postpartum depression, I asked said MIL if she could bring my daughter to come see me. With the load of Zoloft I was on I was neither able nor legally allowed to operate any machinery. In my case, the microwave was difficult enough.

phone Can you bring her over please? Maybe a little later, just so I can see her today.

*Heavy SIGHhhhhhh*… I just do not understand whyyyy you. are. not. capable of caring for your. only. child. I *indignant as all hell IIiIiIiIiiIiIii I* had no. problems. raising threeeee boys, practically on my own. And you can’t handle this sweet child? She’s not difficult, you know. It’s you that’s being difficult.

*inhale- realize painfully that she HAS MY DAUGHTER.* Never (fucking) mind. …I’ll have my mom bring her tomorrow. Thanks for your help. *CLICK*

Good stuff right?

Then there was that time, four years later, when I was leaving Inpatient… 1- My loving (read: what the hell was he thinking) husband sends HER to come get me. I don't think that "misunderstanding" will ever come to a close there. 2- she is told I need two hours notice, I’ll be ready at 3/330. She shows up at noon. Goddam NOON. I’m not even processed to leave yet, nor packed, nor did I finish my exit interview, nor say goodbye to my now Insiders… nor was I in any way psychologically sound enough to handle HER let alone HER EARLY. Then 3- she brought my daughter. She. Brought. My. Daughter. To my Inpatient Psych Discharge. Because, well, *heavy sighhhhhhhh*. Traffic will be so much worse at three, NOW is BETTER. … … …

And so with hot tears brimming, I say my hasty goodbyes, and spin around to my sweet, adorable, innocent baby girl rushing through three inch thick triple locked rebar enforced metal threaded glass paned doors to my arms… Her energy and force and love knock me to the ground. I never wanted her here, in this place, part of this memory. But now she forever is, in this place.

And all I want is to not be in this place.

At the car, the fresh air is beautiful- the view truly is pretty. An open pasture to the north, a steep upgrade of rock ledge to the south. Baby girl says Someday Mommy, when we come back here *my throat catches* can we climb these wrocks? The words tumble out, wanting to make her happy now no matter the cost Yes, Love, of course we can. Enter stage left *heavy sighhhhhhhhhhhhh* NUH UH, NOooooOoo. We are NOT coming back to THIS place ever again. Get in the car, I am taking you home.

My daughter, my saving grace in this moment, refuses to allow me to sit upfront- no mommy- wif me heeeeeerrrrre. In the back. I remember holding her tiny hand the entire fourth minute ride home... Just don't let her go... Don't let her go... Don't let go...

I just wanted to be invisible, at that moment more than any, I wanted to disappear. Somewhere in my heart, I knew I’d be back again.