Complacency

It finally happened! Girl started school!

Part-time, three days a week. Still...there are 3 hours on those three days that I am completely alone. Right now, I am sitting in the window of my bedroom, the sun shining on my back, listening to insect song, and wondering what the hell I do now.

I'm floundering. I guess I kind of expected the first week to be exactly what it has been...relaxing and coming to grips with my lack of direction. I'm starting to come out of the fog, and I don't know which way to go. It's scary.

I have a box of magazines and a poster frame I've intended to use for a vision board. I spent 40 minutes flipping through the glossy pages and cut out exactly 1 thing... a tip for using 3/4 tablet of asprin on my plants to help ward off pests.

My homework assignments from the therapist are to develop a list of 20 things to do as well as 10 date night ideas. I've been putting it off, even avoiding the computer because I can stay off the Internet and not find things to do. HELLO??? What am I doing???

Am I a blank page or am I depressed? Am I overwhelmed or undermotivated? What is it I want? Why is it so hard to answer that question?

I am afraid of failure. I'm afraid to name desires because I know the way to get them is my own hard work and I'm afraid I don't have the determination to achieve them. I don't have enough self-value to even try. Who said, "He who has lost hope has already lost everything"?

The other morning, I was pondering this blog. When I started this journey, it was searching for complaisance and submission to Beloved, Sir, and a few others I have had trials with. I found myself arguing, resenting, and anything BUT complaisant. I thought perhaps it was because my sense of purpose was bigger than one person, that I am servant to a higher calling and seeking to submit to that summons. HA! That sounds rather egotistical right now.

Learning complaisance. Do I need to change the name? Dissolve the blog and start something new? What do I need to learn right now?

I need to learn to be master of myself. To control my thoughts, my actions, my path. To accept the friendship and love that is given freely by Beloved, by my children, by my friends. To love myself.

What word sums all of that up?

I looked up complaisance again, which lead me to complacency; a calm or satisfied feeling about one's self : SELF-SATISFACTION.

So, maybe the title is still accurate after all.

Haunted

If you put it out to the Universe, the Universe will answer, or so I believe. There is also the mythos that you do not speak the name of an evil because doing so will draw its attention.

I have been digging up my past, and there are lots of things that I have no answers for. Perhaps longing for answers opened the door for the flood of the last 48 hours.

My sister is not evil, but from the moment of her birth, she has been an incredible drama. Congenital defects are like that. She wasn't expected to live to 18, and now she is 34. She has been full of rage and anger all her life, and who am I to blame her? She has spent years severing ties with anyone who got too close to her.

The last friendly communication I had with her was in 2004. There have been more recent exchanges, but nothing that left an opening. I thought I had mourned the hurt and betrayal and had moved on.

Friday night, I received a cryptic message from a high school friend that said " I'm very worried about your sister. Now would be a good time to call her." I left a message on her voice mail and turned to the few people I knew who might still have contact with her. I have been piecing a puzzle together from a string of broken relationships, and my heart aches anew.

I have had text contact with my sister, insisting that she is fine (remember what I think of the word fine?). What I have pieced together from others is that she has become addicted to pain medications, has stopped taking her heart medications ("the doctor said I didn't need them anymore, so I threw them in a corner" was how someone reported it), is presumably homeless (no one I have talked to knows where she is actually staying, but someone said she said "there is running water and I can sleep on the floor"), increasingly erratic, and has started to sever the few remaining connections.

The last person I spoke with was a family friend who has known us more than 30 years and was cursed out of my sister's life only a month or two ago. As I explain all of the pieces I'd gathered, she sighed. "That explains a lot...It sounds like you have wrapped your head around the situation pretty well." Yes, I know what is going on.

My sister is preparing to die alone.

There is nothing I can do, except wait and be haunted by wishes that things could be different.

Soup, and other bits of life

The weather is dipping into the 50s at night, and the first sugar pumpkins are showing up at market...It's SOUP SEASON! If you haven't yet, you might consider joining up for my Soup Swap in November!

I've already made pots of ham & split pea soup and roasted pumpkin soup. The leftover mashed potatoes are destined for a creamy rosemary-potato soup. A 79 cent butternut squash is going to join some chicken and other goodies for my favorite chicken soup.

A little more ambition, and I've pulled out the bread machine. Honey wheat is easy enough and I started some sour dough starter.

Beloved teased me..."I think you'd be happy if it could be September all year round." September or April are probably my favorite months...the cool, sweater weather is awesome and I love the produce of the seasons.
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Therapy is giving my a headache...I have mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, the "promise" to unravel the crazy mood swings appeals and I'd try a lot of things to be free to be ME instead of a raving train-wreak-waiting-to-happen. On the other hand, I have serious doubts about "getting in touch" with my emotional 8-year-old self. Maybe I've been watching too much Fringe, but it seems weird to me. This week, Beloved came along to hear about "potential side effects." It's going to get worst before it gets better and all that dire stuff.

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Girl is *almost* ready for school. The potty training has been successful for a couple of weeks, and we're even trying diaper-less for bedtime! She had a pretty good interview day, but immediately developed a cold with the gross green snots and nasty cough. I've kept her home this week, but next week...maybe.

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I have plans...work...to do in the garden. Time to spread some grass seed and fertilizer. I have a couple of clearance perennial plants, some root balls, and bulbs to put in. I want to see what needs to be done to prep my straw bales for the spring...I want to move the tomatoes and peppers to the straw and try putting beans and peas in the boxes.

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Fourteen bags/boxes of donations were picked up, and just this week I found more out-grown clothes! I'm hoping I can get enough together for another massive pick-up in the first week that Girl is at school.

I am afraid of you

I have wandered in and out of lifestyles of D/s and BDSM play for more than five years now. There's a million more things I *haven't* done, but I have sampled the lifestyle offerings. I have been strung up, gagged, beaten, whipped, caned, cuffed, collared, plugged, waxed, and mind-fucked. I have made friends and even taken lovers among the many Dominants, Tops, and sadists I have met.

I cannot deny that I am a curious creature and that the dark things attract my attention like little else in the world right now. I get drawn in and follow you from the sidelines, wandering the fringe of the scene, curious and longing. I develop crushes that I hold silently, wishing you might take notice and use me for service, hoping you will pull me into your arms and invite me to play.

If I can, I dodge actual invitations, though. The rare times that I have slipped and fallen to my knees in worship end in terrible ways. I lack the stability in my inner-self to submit and withdrawing and running away hurts almost as much as the bindings or bruises. I am not a worthwhile plaything for you. My curiosity turns to terror far too quickly for your tastes.

And yet, I remain...wandering, curious, and afraid of you.

Slightly off

I am starting to think the Universe is prepping for something, and I'm nervous. It's just the little things that are not quite right but keep stacking up.

Family chores didn't get done on Sunday because neither Beloved or I had the energy to muster through with the kids. Then we didn't complete trash on Tuesday, although Beloved DID get the recycling out and emptied the kitchen trash. *wry smile* It's a pride point that the household usually only generates 2 bags of trash all week, so it's not a problem, just one more thing that is off.

Both the kids have been having a tough time sleeping. Girl has been having night terrors (screaming and restless, but not waking up), and last night it was Boy who woke the household. The girls ended up in the master bed and the boys took Beloved's room, but it's still just plain off.

Meals around here have been largely MIA. Beloved's chosen some evening workouts and that means either I am trying to feed the kids really early (and sometimes in the car) so we can use childcare at the gym OR I'm simply not inspired to bother cooking. Really, I have been eating like crap, and I am feeling it. I have to address this one, but I'm not sure how.

Beloved and I were really excited about a date night this weekend...going to a wine festival and then having a night without the kids!...but that has been brought into question because of childcare. My cousin was found unresponsive and hasn't regained consciousness, and so my aunt isn't sure she will be available.

I have had a really hard time connecting with Beloved this week. It seems that EVERYTHING I say comes out negative or wrong. I know I'm feeling anxious and, despite decent sleep, I'm tired. *sigh* My therapist wants to meet with Beloved also next week to talk about things that my sessions are triggering.

Blah! On Fet, a friend suggested hibernation. It sounds really good right now!

Weight and waiting

Beloved is losing weight.

More than 30 pounds of weight, in fact. He is looking amazing, feeling great, and rightfully crows about his triumphs. He's halving his food intake and opting for healthier choices. He's singing 45 minutes into zumba classes, walking miles at night, and managing yoga poses I never dreamed I'd see in real life.

I have done nothing but wait. Uninspired, I have been hoping to wake up one morning with the burning itch to go to the gym or even walk with the kids. It hasn't happened, and I have been stuck between 203 and 205 pounds for months. The excuses are the usual...too hot, too much trouble, too many injuries. It amounts to the same thing, though. I'm waiting and the waiting is weighing on me.

Part of me feels trapped. With two growing kids, I am faced with "I'm hungry" all day long, and absentmindedly popping a handful of dry cereal in my mouth because it has been brought to me. With the heat and humidity wilting me and my garden, I am uninterested in spending any time in the sun. Wrestling the kids into childcare so I can do a workout I am not excited about is just one more obstacle.

I know these are excuses. I know what I *need* to do to lose weight. I have the knowledge and the tools.

When Beloved bounds into the kitchen, proclaiming the scale's reading with pride, I almost automatically frown. It's not fair to him...I am proud of him and impressed with him. No, Beloved, I'm not happy about your weight loss...because I hear what you don't...this horrible depressing voice nagging me that I can't do it, that I will fail so why bother starting. I always fail...fail to lose weight, fail to land a job, fail to save my mom, fail, fail, fail.

So goes the cycle of depression.

Loose

Saturday night I hit bottom, complete with the worthlessness and vaguely suicidal thoughts. Beloved tried to talk to me, and all I heard was negative. After a couple of rounds, we managed to play a game and not talk about it anymore.

Sunday was morning chores with the kids. Beloved was summoned in on some work and had plans with Sunshine in the evening. I took the kids to one of the museums and managed to avoid having to talk to anyone about anything important all day.

Monday was Labor Day and started out a little rough. Beloved came home tired and promptly fell asleep cuddling...a sleep deep enough that I got up and made pancakes before he roused again. The family had some spats, but we managed to pull it together and spent the afternoon at an apple orchard.

Today was counseling. I spent the morning staring at my room and trying to mentally reorganize it. I did clear off some of my dresser and desk and got the bed stripped. Some productivity, I suppose. Counseling was adrift. She asked me what I was skirting. "Everything and nothing. I feel like I am grasping at anything I can to see if it will invoke some sense of direction." I'm lost in a blur of detachment and loneliness, but I don't really want anyone inside this bubble. If I can keep them out, I keep out the feelings, and I'm so tired of hurting.

She says my detachment disorder isn't flared by the kids because my child-self connects with them, but in doing so, I awaken the undigested grief of all the traumas of my own childhood...maybe that is why I've become so unstable since being a mother? I don't know.

Joy quoted Dr. Wayne Dyer

“By referring to previous struggles and using them as reasons for not getting on with your life today, you’re assigning responsibility to the past for why you can’t be successful or happy in the present.”

I recognize the truth there, but I don't know how to change my focus. My counselor asked what my vision was for myself. I've tried several ideas on here...horticulture, mortuary, social work, teacher, caretaker...but none of them stick, none of them inspire me to go beyond the first step of collecting information about the role. I keep looking backward because if I look forward, I get stung and afraid of the blank unknown.

Escape

It smells heavily of rain, but it is different. I wonder if it's the coastal surge.

It's Saturday and Beloved had already taken the kids out. What will I do with the day? There's a million things that need attention, but when I start to consider them, I want to crawl back in bed, which lends itself to feeling worthless. I just want everything to go away.

So it goes...

I can't sleep.

Earlier today I was utterly exhausted, to the point of nauseous and dizzy. I managed to get the kids fed, put on a movie, took a cool shower, and past out. Beloved checked on me, but didn't really rouse me beyond getting fresh ice water. I slept a good 4 hours...

Now, of course, it's midnight and sleep seems far away. I consider moving laundry or trying to be productive and wonder if that is a good idea. I'm still a bit nauseous, and shouldn't I try meditation or something to stay quiet? *sigh* My thoughts remain fuzzy and confused. Focusing is hard.

I suppose I'll see about the dishes and go from there. Perhaps Beloved will be home soon to coax me back to bed and sleep.