I did not want to get out of bed this morning, cuddled up underneath the covers with Owen snuggled up on one side of me and Steve on the other. It was raining, too, the sound one of comfort and peace, and I felt altogether too comfortable to want to even move. Also, I had been dreaming, one of the rare times of actually remembering a dream-I was at Ms. Moon’s house, and I have been there before in my dreams so it was as familiar a place to me as anything is. Her friend Lis was there, too, and she was singing to me and Ms. Moon was covering me up with some sort of down blanket. I am certainly not one to look for meanings in dreams, and am much more inclined to think of them as the way our minds purge out unnecessary information. Still, even I can see that this was a dream about being nurtured, about being cared for. Funny that no one I know in my waking life was there, but dreams are strange that way, aren’t they?
I think I even know why I had this dream; I haven’t been feeling especially nurtured lately, and it has been a really hard couple of weeks for me. I think most of you know that there have been a couple of failed friendships recently, and even though I freely admit that I had a part in that, partly because people change and grow and partly because I am a bitch, it has still been extremely difficult for me. Also, a few issues at home have arisen and what I have been hearing is, “I love you as long as you don’t question anything I say or do, as long as you never express your opinion, and please don’t ever tell me how you really feel. As long as you can abide by those conditions and we never share a cross word or hurt each other’s feeling, I love you.” What that translates into for me is the ever-present,”You are not good enough. Not smart enough, not kind enough, not caring enough, not enough.” I get so tired of fighting these demons, and I don’t understand why they keep coming up. I go through a period of time where I am pretty okay, actually. Still mentally ill, of course, but basically fine. Then something happens, and something else, and since I am prone to depression anyway, well, I get a little more insane than usual.
Since I have been making a conscious effort during Lent and all to give up that negative self-talk, I have been working really hard at stopping those thoughts before they can even become fully formed, but it isn’t always possible. I think I “get” the whole dream thing, though. We all need nurtured, and sometimes we don’t get what we need from other people so we have to do it ourselves. Not in the “Please let me be a martyr and just fucking do it myself because you are useless” kind of way, but in the self-care, loving kind of way. Here is my problem right this minute, though: I am tired. Two of my fours kids have turned into something akin to the devil seemingly overnight, including Eli getting into a fight after school and having a big cut underneath his eye. It feels like conflict from the minute we get up to the moment they all go to bed, and I am tired of it. I am tired of having everything I do wrong pointed out to me every single time, because godfuckingdammit, I am not perfect but I for damn sure don’t spend every waking minute of my life being a fuck-up; I need, on occasion, to hear about one blessed thing I did right even if that meant I got out of the bed. I am just-I am tired. And I can love and nurture myself all I want and need, but it isn’t the same as once in awhile having someone you love say, “You look tired; let me get you some tea and tuck some warm covers around you and sing you to sleep.” Metaphorically speaking, of course, hence the dream of Ms. Moon and Lis.
Well. It has taken me the whole day to get this written in bits and pieces, little hard bullets of saying please help me so hard to say out loud. Because to put them out there makes it real, right? And that in turn makes me vulnerable which in turn scares me. Which makes me then want to isolate from people because to put myself out there means I risk rejection, and instead of letting myself be vulnerable I close myself off so I can’t be hurt. There you go-me in a nutshell.
BUT: I have a friend who I am meeting for coffee tomorrow who tells me that I am enough, even though she knows me well and knows that I have a ton of issues to work through-and instead of me hearing from her that I am too much of this and not enough of this, she ask me what she can do to help. I have another friend who cared enough about me to say,”It hurts my feelings when you do this” and allowed me the opportunity to do better instead of shutting me out of her life. I have these people who somehow manage to deal with me and my fucking craziness and love me anyway, even when I am not, in fact, being lovable. Maybe this has to be enough, you know? I don’t know; one of my friends has told me more than once that she thinks I am suffering from PTSD, due to the events of the last two years. Sam’s dad showing up hasn’t helped things any, because the combination of different things has brought up all of this old, nasty ugly shit about abuse and abandonment, about violation and distrust and absolute insecurity. Not insecurity in terms of “Oh, I am so insecure (which, ok, I am right now, very much so, thank you for pointing that one out to me, too) but rather lack of security-and her take is that the only way to get through it in all reality is to simply get through it and try not to kill anyone in the process. Which actually kind of makes sense, even though PTSD doesn’t really make much sense to me. Still-whether it makes sense or not, I kind of believe in it.
So. There you have it. I am losing my mind a little, grieving some pretty major losses and feeling a lot of really ugly feelings and I am not sure where I am going or, really, who I even am anymore. I don’t know what to DO with all of this shit I have inside me, other than come here and write it out. I don’t know what to do with any of it, really, other than figure out how to cope. Today, this means I go work out tonight after I get off work because that makes me feel better. It means we get to go out tonight to celebrate Steve’s birthday and I get to lavish on him the love that I need because most of the time, it comes back tenfold. And I can’t drink. When it comes right down to the bare bones of it all, there are some days where the next right thing for me is to simply acknowledge that drinking isn’t going to solve one fucking thing, and today is day like that one.