Unworthy Yet Still Wanting

It is seeming that the less I want to think, the more I do so. All day today I have been consumed with issues that I have struggled with for a very long time, but have tried very hard not to think about for a lot of years. My very purpose for existence, at least in my mind, has been denied me, and I am forever labeled "unworthy." Rightfully so, granted, but it bites none-the-less. I understand that I truly am unworthy of motherhood. However, I don't see a point to my life if being childless is to forever be my lot.

My sisters often express a tinge of jealousy at the "freedom" I have in my childless life. They all became mothers quite young, 19, 20 and 21. They haven't the faintest idea of the complete emptiness in the life of an adult woman who has borne no child. They seem to have no clue that their children are the only life I have.

I am, in actuality, mother to two children. Neither of them were born, however. On October 3, 1996 I held my brand new nephew, Malachi, in my arms for the first time. On October 4, 1996, I took the life of my first child. I was six weeks pregnant. I do believe that had whatever shot they gave me to relax me not knocked me out, I would have succeeded in taking my own life, and probably a lot earlier than when I tried. On January 5, 2000, I attempted suicide, and failed miserably. Failure being the one thing I'm good at doing. In the hospital I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder and prescribed Depakote. That is an anti-seizure medicine prescribed to epileptics. I had never had a seizure, mind you, but it was supposed to make my brain stop going nonstop, always thinking, always in the downward spiral. On March 4, 2000 I was married, and on March 8, I found out I was pregnant. I stopped taking all the medication, but I guess the damage was already done. On March 18, 2000, I was babysitting my niece Casta, at that time she was eight months old. I remember so vividly holding her in my arms and crying, pleading with God not to punish me for one child by taking the second. My prayers were to no avail. I miscarried that night, again at six weeks....and just so you know, that is very routine for doctors, don't go to the e.r. and expect compassion or sympathy.

Now I know that I deserved what I got. I know that anyone who murders their own child certainly doesn't deserve another. Here is where I begin to struggle. What about someone who can't take care of the children she already has, and yet God gives her more. What about those who don't even want children so they neglect or abuse them. What about the drug addicts and alcoholics who bring their children into the world already dependent on substances most of us wouldn't dream of putting into our bodies, much less that of our infants. What about the woman who cut off her eighteen month old daughters arms and watched her bleed to death and said "God told me to." Or the woman who drown all five of her children in the bathtub one by one. How very much God must hate me to have me further down His list of "unworthy" than these. Why do I have to love children so much, is that part of the punishment. Is the fact that I want it so badly part of the penance.

I realize that some of you may read this and realize that when I talk of how evil I am that I am not exaggerating. Some will be disgusted and not come back here. That's o.k. and I don't blame you. I know me and I don't like me, so why on earth should you. I guess I will close with the poem I wrote my first child three weeks after I killed her.

GOODNIGHT

What can I say but I'm sorry,
I know that I was wrong,
I guess you're better off now,
In Heaven growing strong.
I couldn't have provided,
For you or given love,
The kind that is so perfect,
That you now receive above.
I know that I have failed you,
Ending your life so soon,
I just let the doctors have you,
As they sucked you from my womb.
I don't know what you would have been,
Or how you'd laugh or cry,
I just know that I gave up,
Before I let you try.
I'm sorry that I killed you,
I knew it wasn't right,
To send you into darkness,
Before experiencing light.
Just know how much I love you,
Though you can't see that now,
I have no excuses,
Nor can I explain how,
I took your life from you,
I took away your rights,
I never got to hold you,
Nor kiss your head good night.
But I know Jesus loves you,
And holds you in His arms,
Because I wasn't faithful,
And wouldn't be your mom.
October 27, 1996

For Lack of a Better Post

I feel empty. That is stupid, because I know that somewhere inside my heart of hearts is a plethora of emotion waiting patiently to be exhumed. Yet, I feel empty and very much alone. At least the alone part is accurate. I slept away the weekend, except for driving my mother home from the hospital.....still no pathology results. I am dreading waking up for work in the morning. Seven a.m. will be very painful after sleeping past noon today. There is so much I need to feel but all I can seem to sense is this ever so subtle downward spiral into the pit of blackened emptiness. I know this spiral well. In the past several years I have been able to recognize it early and do something, anything to stop the downward motion and remain, all be it barely, in the land of the living. Here I go, however, into the depths of the walking dead. Numb, empty and alone.

I imagine that this is why normal people have close friendships. This is one of those times that you would call said friend and pour your heart out and ask for prayer. I am not the normal type though, now am I. So I sit alone and wonder how to stop the despair engulfing my spirit and wonder if I even care. I know I do care but in this state it is hard to remember why. I don't want to feel, I don't want to think, I don't want to eat.... I just want to fade into nothingness and stay there until......I don't know till when. I just know I don't want to be here now, facing a life that I can't seem to function in.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Before yesterday, I had never looked at my mother and thought of her as old. As I walked into her hospital room following her surgery, my mind flashed back to my grandmothers room thirteen years ago. I saw this frail old woman who looked as though life had gotten the best of her through the years. The doctors said that her uterine cavity was engulfed with cancer, and that it had spread to her cervix and ovaries. They took all of those things out, and we just have to sit and wait on the pathology reports to see if it has spread any further. Statistically speaking, uterine cancer has one of the highest cure rates of any cancer. This is because the main symptom is abnormal bleeding. Most woman would get that checked right away, thus the cancer is detected early and typically, cured. My mother had abnormal bleeding for two years. She tends to live in denial most of the time. Last night I had to stay the night with her at the hospital because they said it best that she not be alone. She, not knowing that the doctor had talked to us kids after her surgery, was telling me that she made up her mind that it wasn't cancer and that was that. I just bit my lip. When the doctor came in this morning and said "It was cancer, like we thought" I saw the color drain from her face and the fear envelop her eyes. Usually her denial is just an annoying habit, this time it may have cost her her life. We will just have to wait and see.

My older sister, eighteen months my senior (and I never let her forget it) is currently undergoing tests to find out what is wrong with her health. She has been having some problems for about a year now, but the doctors are just now beginning to take her seriously and they are running test after test, anywhere from hepatitis (because of strange liver functions) to chronic fatigue syndrome to lupus. She has five children ages ten and under, so of course we are hoping against hope that it be something simple and of course, non-life threatening.

I was speaking to a friend today about my mom and sister, and obviously it wasn't a real "peppy" conversation. So, I asked if she had any good news. Sadly, no. She informed me that she just had a miscarriage. She and her husband have two daughters, ages five and three, but this was a pretty devastating blow. She actually hasn't technically miscarried yet, but the baby has died, and the doctor says that since she isn't too far along that she will just pass it soon. My heart aches to think of knowingly walking around with my deceased child inside of me, just waiting for it to be pushed from my body into nothingness.

This is one of those times that I feel like I am in the middle of one of God's sick jokes. Don't preach at me, I know better, I am just expressing the way I feel at the moment. I mean seriously? Seriously?? Who can deal with this crap. I just want to look up to Him and say, "Can't we at least just go one at a time??" Does it have to be a hurricane of grief and fear and death and sadness all at once. Can't we get a breather in here somewhere. I am the "strong" one in our family. Not because I am strong by any means, but because I don't let my emotions show because I don't want to be seen as weak. So I bite my lip and fight the urges to break down when I am with everyone. Then, in the car or at home, I just start feeling completely overwhelmed. Right now, though, I feel like I can't even break down while I am alone. I am afraid that once the floodgates open, I won't be able to get them shut. I feel like the only way to keep from breaking indefinitely is to remain composed completely. I wonder how long until I implode?

Wishful Thinking

Strength would be a great quality for me to possess at this time. If only........

A Not So Happy Post

I am so sad. I have been avoiding writing a new post since Saturday evening because I knew it would be too sad and have a ton of misspelled words as I wouldn't be able to see through the tears. Well, here it is three days later, my heart is still aching. Smart as I am, I am watching the country music awards and Keith Urban is singing his oh so happy song, "Tonight I Wanna Cry." So I figured maybe if I write about it, cry about it, whatever, maybe that will make it go away, so here goes.

There are times, like now, that I really question whether I am completely sane or not. I know I'm not crazy because crazy people don't question their craziness, they think it is normal. However, I do often wonder what it is that is malfunctioned inside me and how in the world I can fix it. I am not a very open person. O.k. I am not an open person, at all. At least not in real life, face to face. Ask me to write and out everything spews, but talking is a whole other ballgame. I can't do it. It is like I freeze. I know that fear is a huge part of it, but more often than not, I can't even pinpoint what I actually think and feel. I have a big problem in identifying my own emotions. I am a walking contradiction. I crave closeness and connection, but I do everything in my power to keep people at a distance. I long to be loved but run as if my life depended on it when someone shows too much interest. I ache for God's forgiveness but fear rejection too much to approach Him for it. I hate being alone but self sabotage relationships to avoid being abandoned. The more I care about someone, the meaner I am to them. If someone hurts me, I hurt myself to make the pain go away. If someone makes me mad, I am mad at myself for allowing myself to care enough about them that they could make me mad. If someone leaves me, I believe it must be deserved.

I got to see me friend (www.heartsjoy.blogspot.com) last week and for the first time in ten years, actually spend more than three hours with her. I was so happy that I was going to see her, but so nervous at the same time. During our time together I felt it so strange that this person whom I had felt so close to, still did in some sense, was really a stranger. I knew her, deeply, and yet knew nothing about her or her life over the last ten years. It was a big struggle for me to try to reconcile those extremes. I have spent my life not letting people know me and I am afraid that it has become a permanent thing. I couldn't let her in. We have talked online and sometimes I have been able to be real with her, but in person, I was sealed behind my self erected prison walls. I wanted to break them down, climb over them, something, but I could not figure out how to get out from behind them. What if I can't, what if I am locked in here forever. The last night we had together we sat out on the balcony watching the ocean waves roll in and out and I tried so hard inside myself to break through and let her in, but it was pointless. So I just turned my head away and cried. Me, being the not so normal person that I am, was fearing that she wouldn't want to be friend anymore because I had disappointed her. These are the crazy things that go through my mind.

We said our goodbyes Saturday evening, and on the drive back to the condo I was crying my eyes out. Luckily my sweet little Mayson is very empathetic and he cried with me because he missed his best friend(Heartsjoy's son....I am afraid that feeling wasn't mutual, but Mayson didn't mind.) I cried because I knew I wouldn't see her again for a very long time but more so, I cried because I couldn't be real with the one person I had at any point been able to be real with. It sometimes seems to me that the more I learn about the issues I struggle with, the more they seem to overpower me. It should be the opposite, you know, knowledge is power. I feel trapped though. Trapped in my own world of walls, masks, fear, confusion, pain, shame, hiding and contradiction. You know, I read books on the subject, I feel relief that at least I am not the only one in this predicament, but I don't want to just know more about it. It is like my struggle with God, I know so much ABOUT Him. Memorize the scripture verse, go to church, read a little Max Lucado.......a lot really, but it doesn't get me any closer to actually knowing God. Same problem here, I read about it, learn about it, but it doesn't solve anything, I want out. There has to be a solution. I need someone to click my "ctrl. alt. delete," then hit "end program," report the error to God so that He can fix the problem in the next person, and then just completely restart me.

So, point to the story, I miss my friend, I am sad, I feel hopeless, and I am a little ticked off about it. Let me clarify by saying that I don't mean completely hopeless toward life, just that this situation, this "disease" feels permanent and inescapable. And just in case I wasn't quite sad enough, I just got off the phone with my mother. She called to let me know how her appointment with the doctor went today. Let's just say that she has an emergency appointment with an oncologist at 8:15 in the morning and surgery will take place within the next three days for a complete hysterectomy, and they say hopefully that is the only place the cancer is so far. No that wasn't expected, yes it is a complete shock. The only other people I have known who were diagnosed with cancer are my grandmother who died three months after diagnosis, my neighbors mother who died ten months after diagnosis, and my sisters mother-in-law who died seven months after diagnosis. So, needless to say, I don't even know how to process this information. This post did not succeed in making me unsad. (I know that is not a word and I don't care)

mayson leaving mexico

mayson leaving mexico
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

I never imagined it would be a big deal for me to visit Mexico, especially for an hour or two. I was quite inaccurate in that assumption. I felt ill at ease and fearful the entire time. Not only was it scary for me to leave my home, but Mexico was extremely unsettling for me. When a four year old boy or a six year old girl comes up to me in the middle of a not so safe environment, alone, begging for money, I can't help but to have my heart break. I am so sad for the life those children live. I was astounded as we left and under the bridge were twenty or so women and children calling up to us pleading for money.
Here, if this scenerio were to face me, I would immediately assume, perhaps incorrectly, that they were cons or just lazy. I know, however, that life in Mexico is so very different. Granted I probably didn't realize how different until yesterday. We have men where I work who can come and work for my company for one month and make enough money to go home to Mexico and support thier family for six months. So I couldn't help but look below at those people and see the faces of men I have worked with at different times over the past five years and cry inside for the desperation those women must feel. How horrifying to not be able to care for your child, to meet their most basic needs. How does one ever come to peace with that, could someone? I look over at my slightly spoiled nephew asleep beside me and think about all the money I blew on him today, yesterday, all week, his three years of life. I love to do it, don't get me wrong, but did he need another bag of sand toys to play with on our one last day at the beach? Did he need another basketball, another toy car, more shoes?? I adore him and will continue to give to him, my point is that I spend money so freely, I am so quick to forget that there are so many people who have so very little. What could I be doing to help them? How can I make a difference in the desolate world that they inhabit? There has to be a way. As we crossed back over into our extremely wealthy country, we talked about how strange it is that so tiny a distance seperates such vastly different worlds. I am not doing a very good job of having a carefree vacation....oops.

ocean5-16

ocean5-16
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

It was even more beautiful this morning!!

ocean5-15

ocean5-15
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

The ocean this morning!! You know you're jealous.

Big Mean Sharks

I rocked my nephew to sleep tonight sitting on an eleventh floor balcony watching the waves crash into the shore. A thunderstorm is rolling in and the lightening was just beginning to illuminate the landscape. It was so peaceful I almost rocked myself to sleep. I am not sure what is so mesmerizing about the sound of the waves as they roll in, but it is almost hypnotic. I just want to sit here forever. It is of course quite dark now, except when the lightening strikes. Yet I can still see the whitecaps as they tumble over onto the shore only to turn and rush back out into the vastness. It is so strange to me that though I have never been to this particular beach before, this is at least my fifth time to look out on this very ocean. How incredibly vast. Even the thunder and lightening seem more powerful and infinite when their backdrop is the ocean. Especially when the lightening bolt is out in the midst of it and lights up forever with it's one strike.
My nephew, who is three, endured the nine and a half hour drive with only a few whines about when we would finally get to the "lotion." When we finally arrived, we didn't even take our things to the condo, we went straight to the beach and for his first time ever, he plunged into the depths of the ocean. (ok, I only let him get knee deep, but you know what I mean) As I was trying to get him to sleep he asked if he would get to swim again tomorrow, and I said of course. He said "Is that our pool?" I said yep. He said "Who dug it for us?" I said uhhh. He said "God." Why yes He did! :o) Then he proceeded to ask about the fish and the sharks, agreeing that God made them all, then he said "What about the big mean sharks?" I said, yeah, God made them too, they just make bad decisions. He said "Yep, they need time out." How cute is he. Hopefully, regardless of the fact that God made them, He won't be swimming up to hug any of the "nice ones" as he puts it.
k, I was wrong, storms don't just seem more powerful at the ocean, they are. There aren't hurricanes in May are there?????????????

Excessiveness

How To Know When Watching Your Nephews Baseball Games Has Become Excessive:

Here is my schedule of baseball games for the past week. Keep in mind that I live in Ft. Worth and the kids play in Cleburne, about a 40 minute drive. ;o)
Monday 5/8 Mayson @ 6:00
Tuesday 5/9 Blayne @ 7:45
Wednesday 5/10 Brayton @ 7:00 Blayne @ 7:45
Thursday 5/11 Blayne @ 6:00
Friday 5/12 Brayton @ 6:00
ok, now as if that weren't enough, we also had three scheduled for today....Instead, here is how today turned out. Keep in mind Brayton is five and in T-Ball, Blayne is eight, and is playing up(he is a summer birthday) so he can play with his school friends, so he is in first year kid pitch.
Saturday 5/13
Blayne @ 9:00 a.m.
unscheduled Blayne @ 10:45 w/ Brayton, yes the five year old, also playing on Blayne's team
unscheduled Blayne @ 2:00 playing with the 2nd level of kid pitch, 11 and 12 year olds.
unscheduled Brayton @ 2:15 playing with a coach pitch team, 7 and 8 year olds.
Mayson @ 4:00
Blayne @ 5:45
unscheduled Brayton @ 7:00 playing with the coach pitch team again......
Can you say excessive???? A total of 13 games, seven today alone. I love baseball, thank goodness. However, this schedule has left me here at 1:20 in the morning waiting for clothes to finish drying, so I can pack for my vacation that I am supposed to leave for in about six hours. I think I might be a tad tired on that nine hour trek!
Well, I paused for packing. The car is loaded, finally, and I am ready to hit the hay. It's only 2:48, I made good time. :o) Time to tune out of blog world so I can pack my little laptop.......See ya at the beach!!

Beautiful The Way You Are

Yesterday I was putting a new shirt on my four year old niece. She looked down at it, rubbed her hand across the front and said "Does this make me look fat?" WHAT???? I am a little concerned of the damage I am doing. The six year old has asked me on several occasions if she is still skinny. (she is the tallest six year old I know, and a stick)

It terrifies me that no matter what I say to them about how precious they are, what I say to myself or about myself in their presence is what is really shaping their views of themselves. NOT GOOD. How does someone with a poor body image instill a healthy body image in a child?? How do you make them believe in the core of their being that they are in fact beautiful? Is it even possible. Can you instill in a child enough self confidence that later in adolescence, that self confidence will stand up. Is it realistic to believe that a healthy self image formed in childhood can carry someone on into adulthood. I mean, sure there will still be struggles in finding your identity, becoming your own person and knowing who you really are. However, is it necessary to go through a time of hating yourself. Of believing that you are ugly, fat, flawed, whatever. For not being a parent, this parenting thing sure is complicated for me.

Whenever I have the girls, I am pretty particular about how they dress, and they always have to have a bow in their hair. When the older one asks why she HAS to wear a bow, I say because it is cute!! So she then lets me know that it doesn't matter what you look like on the outside....OK, OK I know. However, you should care how you present yourself. Their mother does not have this issue, what I am referring to as "self respect." She figures that as long as you have clothes on, that is good enough. I beg to differ. That is why I buy all the girls clothes, it is the only way I can assure that they will look nice when I am not around to oversee their attire. Doesn't make you a better person to look nice, but certainly makes you feel better about yourself, right??? I don't know where the balance is. How do you teach them to have the self respect to care about how they present themselves, without making them think that how they present themselves is more important than who they are?? SO COMPLICATED. Maybe this is why I have no children. I would make them obsessive appearance freaks. I Ya Yi!!!!!!

Thunderstorms and Baseball

I think thunderstorms are astoundingly beautiful.......Assuming there are no tornados mixed in of course. We have had hot, sunny days everyday this week, and storms with reverberating thunder and massive amounts of illuminating lightening each night. I love them. I don't, however, love it when my nephews baseball games get cancelled.

Sad that those games are the highlights of my week. I love watching them play. I hate when they play below there ability, but I love the way they strut their stuff after they hit a homerun. The eldest that is playing is starting pitcher for his team. I love the way he tries not to let the smile show on his face just after he strikes someone out. (This is his first year of kid pitch, so that doesn't happen all that often.) The youngest that is playing is three, his defense position includes dancing in circles, picking grass and watching dirt blow in the wind. However, when it's time to bat he is all about baseball. I love the way he looks back at us when he is on deck and says "you want me to hit it so higher." Of course we say yes! The middle player, age five, is also pitcher for his team. Mind you, he plays t-ball so he doesn't actually pitch the ball. But, I love it when he winds up and with all the energy he can muster, fires that imaginary ball right at the little batter. I love when he fields the ball, takes that extra second to make sure his aim is on and throws it straight to the first baseman with extraordinary precision for a five year old.

I love sports in general and am extremely competitive. So while I love watching them play, it is so hard for me to not get way too involved in the games. I get so invested and they typically have no idea why. At the last t-ball game there were some baseball politics going on and there were a ton of one sided calls. Our spectators actually got warned by the umpire to hush or we would be kicked out of the ballpark. COME ON! Luckily we won anyway otherwise it could have gotten really ugly. We were all (adults only of course) still pretty worked up after the game, and when I said I was mad, my nephew who had just won, was like, why are you mad. Oops. Hopefully in my immaturity I didn't make him believe that I was mad at him because of the game he played, he did awesome as a matter of fact. I will have to make sure I clarify that with him tomorrow at the next game.

I was really hoping to come up with a point by the time I finished typing all that. Didn't work, sorry. I figured I needed a new post, but couldn't think of anything to write about. It is 11:13 p.m. and I am waiting for my nieces to get here. (Timeliness is not one of my sisters strongest skills.) Anyway, they are staying the weekend with me as I will be out of town the next two weekends and didn't think I could go a whole month without seeing them. I am sitting on the couch watching t.v., surfing the internet looking for double strollers with matching carseats, not easy to find, and heating, using and then reheating a rice pack for my neck. I thought I just had a crick, but then today discovered there is a big knot right next to my spine on my upper neck. Doesn't feel that great. Since this week at work was horrible, I wanted to blame it on stress. Chances are, however, it is probably just from sleeping wrong.....OR.....From sitting in this slouched position, feet propped on the coffee table, head cocked to one side as I play on the internet for........................TORNADO WATCH..........NOOOOOO.......may have to go hide under a mattress in the bathroom soon......anyway, as I play on the internet for hours upon hours every single night. Probably that one. OK, now that I have rambled on for far too long about not much of anything, I am going to go be scared and hide from the tornado. If nothing else.........see ya in OZ!!

My House is a Very Very Very Matching House

livingroom2
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

Typically, I like things to be orderly. I like things to match, to make sense, at least to me. I am bored, so I figure this go round, I will take you through my house to show you my point. Were I smarter, I could do this all in one post, but I am not that computer literate, sorry! Anyway, in the end, I have a point, so be patient.

This is my living room, well, one wall of it anyway. Notice, burgandy love seat, burgandy stripes on the wall. I like things to match!

Next Room

downstairs bathroom
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

My downstairs bathroom, yes I know dragonflys might seem a bit odd, but what we originally thought to be a pretty blue turned out to be very strange. So we were desperate for anything to make it not so strange. Notice, silver dragonflys, silver handtowel. I like to match!

Next Room

sparebedroom
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

Here is my oh so orange spare bedroom, a.k.a. the kids playroom. Notice yet again in the orange theme....I like to match!

Next....

upstairsbathroom
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

Hopefully you are beginning to see a pattern, and hopefully you haven't been frightened off by my bright colors. :o)

Final Room!!!

mybedroom
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

This is my bedroom. I am sure I don't need to point out that it matches. Honestly I would have preferred the orange room, but my comfortor didn't match!! And can we just pretend that the bed is nicely made...thanks. ;o)

AND FINALLY.......

myflowergarden
Originally uploaded by guidmongrel.

This is my garden/flowerbeds, whatever you would like to call it. Now explain to me how little miss has to match everything could come up with a garden like this. It seems like I had the same problem last year. I think in my head, ok this year all the same type of flower, or several types, but a color theme at least. Yet when I get to the nursery and begin to look around, I can't help myself. I want one of everything. I loved the rose bush because it is a hybrid so when they bloom they look tye-dyed. I love the gerber daisys because they are cute for one and more importantly, they are orange. Petunias I love because they grow fast and rather simply, which is important as my thumb is not all that green. I got the begonias because whenever I drive in to a subdivision for work, the entrances are always covered in them, so I know they are pretty, grow well and are rather low maintanance. The Azaleas....that is the bush back there with no flowers....well I thought they were really pretty, then planted it. I thought I was already killing it because all the blooms died off, come to find out they quit blooming typically in March. Oh well, they will be pretty next year.

So, my point to this entirely random, long silly blog is this. Well, I realize now I have no point, just wanted to point out that though I am typically very stringent in my need for things to "go together," sometimes I just go nuts and figure hey, if that one looks good and that one looks good, than I am going to pretend like they look good together whether they do or not!

I could be on TLC's "What Not To Plant In Your Garden!"