Monthly Archives: November 2010

why I now hate my favorite holiday.

After years of  loving thanksgiving it is finally official.  I HATE IT.  

I really can’t remember the last time we had a nice one. or at least a really nice  one.   

I guess I still love the idea of thanksgiving. a beautifully decorated house. a formal set table.  a nice dinner.  Family gathered together.  fun, laughter, joy. 

What has it usually been?  rush to in-laws… never on time to their liking.  eat as soon as we get there.  watch football.  watch family get irritated with one another.  Watch my husband get pissed at everyone. 

on the rare occasion that we had dinner at home… I would set a nice table. my husband would help cook.  things always looked like they might go well then… Out of the blue someone would get upset and flip out.    one year we made my youngest come back down to eat with us, she did with a bandana covering her face.  another year my husband refused to come and eat with us,  my oldest son put his picture on his dad’s picture at his place so he would still be there to eat with us. 

this year, my husband was out of sorts at times.  My children picked on one another, and generally didn’t want to be here for our traditional go back to our own home and eat dessert together event. 

My oldest daughter made me feel inadequate about the condition of the house.  it does need cleaning.  but when was I to do this?   I was out-of-town sunday, monday and Tuesday.  babysitting her son Tuesday night, getting him to daycare Wednesday,  going to an appointment on Wednesday at noon.  working from 3-11, baking pies till 1:00am.  getting up at 8:30 am to bake more pies and then the hour and a half drive to eat at my mother-in-laws.  yeah the house isn’t clean… well I did clean the kitchen some after we all ate the pies.    now to get some sleep before I have to go back to work at 4:30am!!! 

Maybe that is the biggest reason I don’t like my favorite holiday anymore… I work retail!!!

growing pains?

The process of recovery is proving to be somewhat painful.  Becoming stronger and more self-confident and more assertive is painful.  

In the personality profile world I am what is called a “Relater”.  I am people oriented.  A relationship is of utmost importance to me.  I am dependent on those relationships.  I am too dependent on those relationships.  How I feel about myself relies all too much on the state of those relationships.  it is as if a True Me does not exist.  If someone else finds me worthy than I am worthy.  If someone else finds me lacking, than I am lacking. 

Learning to put more importance on the relationship I have with myself  is very scary.  I feel as if I may have to lose relationships with others to strengthen myself.   Thiscauses me to be sad, anxious, and fearful.  learning to balance my need for others and my need to become less dependent on them is both empowering and terrifying.  This involves change.  Change.  Not something one with my personality craves or likes.  Change is painful. 

I am told I have the strength and the self-confidence to change.    I just need to keep telling myself  that I posess these qulities. 

I am also a christian.  In my head I know that God has what I need.  I know He is there is provide it for me.  I am beginning to rely on Him again.  If only in little ways.  And of course He is faithful. 

I was reminded yesterday through a birthday greeting that I am a princess.  I am the Child of The King, making me a princess.  I guess it really doesn’t get any better than that.   Yet my humanness makes the growing pains of  healing, and change almost unbearable at times.   My depression clouds the truth.  My mind plays tricks on me.  I am taken over by the sadness and the anxiousness.   

This is what recovery feel like.    When I think back on how I have been compared to how I am, I see progress.  I am getting better.  I am stronger. I am more confident.  And I am actually more assertive.


today is my 49th birthday. 

not old but not young. 

I have gotten over 40 Facebook birthday greetings. 

My husband sent me a wonderful email with a meaningful video attached. 

most of my children have called or sent messages. 

all of my siblings have called. 

all in all it has been a good birthday.   

I have a love/hate relationship with my birthday.   I love having a birthday.  The idea that it is MY day.  A holiday just for me.  presents are nice but not what is most important to me.  I like having my family show me that they are happy I am alive. 

I also hate my birthday.  Why because I have had many disappointing ones.  one year I had to make my own cake as a teenager.  I don’t really hate getting older.  but I hate that I expect things on my birthday.  I don’t want to expect anything. 

today was a good birthday.  and I am not disappointed.


Feeling some better today. Taking care of my mother-in-law. She is doing well
I wish I wasn’t feeling so down. I think it has to do with my birthday and the holidays coming up. Last year they all have a bad memory attached. I think I am trying not to expect anything so any good things that happen will be a plus. But not looking forward to anything is making me sad.
Of course I also feel like I don’t deserve anything either I keep failing will I ever get it all together? I am almost 50 and still not able to do to things the way one is supposed to. The thing is I think I used to do ok. When I was younger. And my family was younger. What is wrong now? And how can make it all right again?

down in the pit. again. why?

I am feeling really blue today.  Hopeless, helpless, incompetent. 

I was supposed to do some positive self-talk this weak.  I can’t bring myself to. all I can think of is the negative.  I feel like everything is slipping away again.  What is wrong.  why can’t things just get better.  Why do the therapists keep telling me I am a strong person. i feel so week.  I feel like I have to prepare myself for the worst.  But I don’t know how.  I can’t.  I just can’t . 

I am afraid that being strong means giving up what I want most.  I can’t   I just can’t. 

I have to go care for my Mother-in-law for a few days.  I hope I can do it.  I don’t want to mess it up. 

I feel so lost.  I pray tomorrow will be a better day.  I pray that I am not really losing.

on hold

Over the past months I have been encouraged to concentrate on myself.  I have been doing that I think.  Not that it is helping me.  at least I don’t think it is.  but for now I need to put myself on hold.  Others need me to care for them. 

My husband fist of all.  He is losing his mother to cancer.  I am being strong for him.  I am pushing my own insecurities and fears out or down or somewhere so I can help him. 

My children second.  Yes they are all grown up, but they need me to guide them through their emotions as they watch their grandmother decline.  each one of them deals in a different way.  They can be very hard on each other thinking that one reaction is better than another.  I am trying to let them know that they can deal with this in the way that suits them best and it is ok no matter what someone else may tell them. 

My mother in-law of course.  I intend to bring her joy, help her maintain her dignity.  at least as much as she will allow me. 

My sister-in-law.  I have told her that she could call me anytime.  (she won’t) but I am here for her.  I told her I am here for her to yell at when she needs someone to yell at. 

so I am on hold.

live untill you die.

My 87-year-old mother-in-law was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer this past week.   From what we are told she will begin chemo on friday.  She has anywhere from 6 weeks to 3 months to live. 

Of course she says she is fine. That is what she always says. 

She went to physical therapy today and showed them that she could make a tea.  She wants to go back to her home.  She is being a good patient, and doing what she is told. 

She is living.  Living life.  Not living like she is dying!

Several years ago we watched her husband begin to fail.  We watched as he began to live like he was dying.  It was very difficult. We watched as he gave up doing the things he loved. We watched as he stopped walking. We watched as he stopped eating.   We watched as he faded away until he died. 

Mam, as we call her, will not do this.  I know she won’t.  She will keep trying to do things.  She won’t give up. 

She has already said, “I guess I will just live till I die.”

and isn’t that what we are all doing anyway?