The More I See

I've been back in my house for a bit now trying to get it in order.

Today was my first "real" day to have the time to clean the addition that was put on for my mom, put things away, etc.

The more I found, the more livid I became. Of all the people that lived down in this part of the house it seems the only ones that took care of it was my oldest daughter and her husband.

There's pink fingernail polish all over the granite, gum on the wall, ruined sheets. The coverlet I had bought for Mom had a LARGE marker stain on it. I had always wondered why it was neatly folded and put away. Thank Goodness I was able to get it out finally. Was it really that hard to put in the washer?

Crystal knobs are broken off of the cabinets and closet doors, there's marker all over one of the built in benches. The oven and fridge were a total mess, holes in the rugs. Trash compactor broken, and pee stains all over the mattress we bought for mom, I could go on and on FOREVER.

The dresser is broken, the chairs have things pulled off of them. Good Lord, these were supposed to be "adults," and they wouldn't even respect the fact that their father and I had built this for my mom?

I think the part that upsets me the most is the marker and the fingernail polish. Really? They couldn't have washed the coverlet? Let someone know of the marker on the built in so it could be taken care of, and is it really that difficult to put down news paper, or something to make sure your kid didn't get pink polish everywhere on the granite?

They were given free rent, free utilities, etc. but had no respect for a home that belonged to someone else? They weren't thankful enough to take care of a place they were allowed to live for free? I'm glad their father didn't see all of the mess.

Thank Goodness  my oldest and her husband respected it, and were appreciative enough to treat the place as if they had built it, and I know my oldest son wouldn't have allowed his son to mark all over the addition with marker, he has too much respect for that as well.

I was able to get most of it taken care of. Mom would be happy.

Yeah, ok, that was my rant for the week. Carry on.

xoxo

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The Short of The Long Tonight

Well he found me lying in the floor unconscious, took me to the doc, another seizure. Fun times.

Then the psych diagnosed me with Stockholm Syndrome. Awesome. More therapy.

"Stockholm syndrome, or capture-bonding, is a psychological phenomenon in which hostages express empathy and sympathy and have positive feelings toward their captors, sometimes to the point of defending and identifying with the captors."

The doc is pretty freaked about the seizures. They wouldn't allow me to walk, had to use a wheelchair, but he made Harley sounds for me and pushed me really fast so I could feel the wind in my face. Can you say BEST DOCTOR EVER?

Met the woman that lives in back of me. Turns out we have A LOT in common with what we've been through.

More lab work tomorrow to check for a few things. Not gonna make light of it, serious shit going down. On the upswing I've gone from a 28 (basically size 8) to a 26-27 in jeans (size 6). Please God, don't let me lose weight in my boobs. I paid a lot of $$ for those puppies.

So tired from the seizure, gotta sleep awhile so I can do it all again tomorrow, hopefully seizure free this time.

And Susan, have fun reading. Even when you don't leave nasty comments, I can still see you're checking me out so you can burn up the phone lines with gossip. I think it's funny you have this weird fascination with my life. I guess you should, you're in the book.  Oh, and I'm not checking to see if you are reading my posts, I check my audience and stats daily, all of them. I guess some things don't change, ya know, like when you were a girl taking the "neighborhood gossip from house to house," as Denia put it. Grow up, my God woman you're almost 70. 

Enough for tonight, this chick has to sleep. Gotta be beautiful tomorrow and spread some glittery sunshine.

Delirious from lack of sleep and the seizure(s),

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The Spell Is Difficult To Break

It's been a very long several days. I'm tired and emotional. I'm also angry, very angry, at myself.

Even though there were very good times in the past 27 years that will be cherished, I logically can see what the doctors had been telling me was true, but emotionally it's difficult to break away.

I find myself continually taking the blame, saying I'm sorry, falling into the same patterns I had fallen into for years.

Do I hate my ex husband? No, no I don't. It's confusing though, the emotional turmoil, the roller coaster, the still wanting to seek approval out of habit. The fear of being abandoned still haunts me, and I'll get more into that later.

I want to make sure everyone knows this is not in any way a "smear campaign," but rather speaking up for myself after being quiet for so long.

Is my ex husband a "bad man?" No, he isn't. I feel he truly believes what he says. I'm not out to degrade him in any way, but to work out what I've been through, and hopefully help others in the same situation see and re-evaluate.

I know this isn't really a "post," but I needed to "touch base," to tell my story, to heal and move forward with my life.

I will not deny he has done great things for me, and with me, but there was a side no one saw except the professionals, and it took them years to open my eyes.

I guess tonight I just needed to say I wish him well in his new life, I wish no ill will upon him.

I'm tired though. I'm tired of continuing to live in the shadows of untruths. It's time I speak, and it's time to heal, it's time to write, it's time to encourage.

Until later,

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