When the scar tissue is too thick

I remember the first time I felt bad enough to seek out therapy, I was a well functioning mess! That was many years ago. The nice face and laughing, loving personality was a facade. I should have been in Hollywood….pretty much everything people saw was an act. Therapy helped…I was able to dangle low and could reach the bottom to tie on the knot. I got better and was on anti depressants…I felt like I had seriously dealt with my demons.

A few years later after an anti depressant change, I was going under again so same place, different therapist (a woman this time), I blistered the walls with fire and hate. I unloaded. I discontinued therapy sooner this time because I felt like I had seriously dealt with my demons. But I remained on anti depressants.

If you have read previous blogs, you know that in February 2017 I stopped anti depressants. It was difficult. It was ugly. It was good. But I’ve had to learn to live unmedicated. Mild depression waves in and out….anxiety seems to be my most serious complication. I chose to change my behaviors…I started meditating, living more spiritual and learning to be more mindful. But I also realized that there is sill more crap I need to deal with which I will describe as needing to do plastic surgery on the scarring left behind. It’s different. The scars not the injury is the best way I can describe it. So, I’m back in therapy. I feel good about it. I’m probably not going to share a lot about it. I’m more vulnerable now and not full of hate. It’s called recovery!

Thanks to you who have been along on my journey so far.

I’m revealing two secrets…one word – granola and trying to hide Baxter’s affair.

If you have experienced the effect of granola, I will not have to explain.  If you haven’t experienced the effect of granola, I encourage you to buy a bag of it and eat a lot of it!  Then you can pass on the knowledge so to speak.

After lunch with Brenda yesterday and a couple hours of shopping At Home and Hobby Lobby for chalk paint, I was parched.  I stopped at the highway 7 gas station for an ice tea before my 6 minute drive home.  I was parched, dammit.  and I wanted a snack.  I walked around for quite awhile…in fact, long enough that if I hadn’t stopped, I would have been home…anyway…I was looking at calorie count, labels and ingredients…seriously…did you know there is really nothing in a gas station convenience store that we should eat.  I finally chose a 9 x 9 x 2 plastic box full of Kimberley’s Bakeshop granola mix.  OMG is all I will say!

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This is Baxter, Minnie and Truman.  Baxter is my cat…so this causes me a lot of confusion.  Does he need therapy or have I just not been firm enough with his apparent affection for my sweatshirts and blankets?  I hide the davenport blanket when I go to bed and it is on the floor in the morning.  He will find my sweatshirt in the bedroom and somehow drag it to the living room.  This morning, I woke up to this in the dining room.

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What?

These were folded up in a pile in the purple room closet ready to be boxed for donation to DAV.  Things are no longer neatly stacked in the closet

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How does an 11 pound cat choose what articles of clothing he wants in a closet and a better question, does it take him all night to drag them through the house…

Just a glimpse into my Wednesday.

Until next time…

Ohio for Easter…

We are going to Kate’s house in Ohio for Easter…I told mom that we were going and she needed to go to Aunt Frances’ house while we are gone…she decided she would have Dana take her on the Wed before…like the 6th…she called me last night at work a little after 2300 and asked me to get her $200 cash Monday because she was going to need it when she went to Des Moines..she couldn’t quite remember when it was…I told her that we had over a week and I would get her money.  Today “he” was working on the boat in her basement garage and she yelled at him…asked him to take her to Aunt France’s house today because Dana is sick..but she had to get her meds etc…he agreed to do this…He is a saint.  So he took her to Des Moines and got her adjusted at Aunt France’s house..as adjusted as anyone can be in that situation.  Ahhhhh all is well.

2200 hours tonight (Monday which is the same day he took her) she calls to say she can’t find her meds…okay..she’s right – he missed getting them out of the car when he dropped her off…she asked if we were planning to go to Des Moines this week…I said, well, no we are working…but told her somehow we would get her meds up to her…she said…..well either that or come get me and take me home…I said..Why would you want us to do that…she said Aunt Frances was making her nervous and she didn’t want to be up there for 10 days.  I told her that it was no one’s fault but her own..she solely made the decision to go up early and we wouldn’t be bringing her back and then turn around and drive her back to Des Moines next week….I wanted to scream at her that out of the goodness of his heart, he took her to Des Moines today and spent an enormous amount of time chauffering her around when he wanted to be doing something productive and had his own agenda for the day.

You know, (rhetorical) I lived in a vaccum for so long wondering what was wrong with me…why did I have such issues with my mother..why couldn’t I just get along..this is not the way you should treat or feel about your mother…the times I made an effort to talk to her and see if we could work something out and she always said she didn’t know what she was doing wrong…ya, uh huh…not until my dad died, and therapy started and I did a lot of soul searching did I realize I just had a bad relationship with her and nothing was going to make it better.  She was the adult and I shouldn’t have had to take care of her…anyway…my girls would really like me to put all of this behind me and  not take her personally…it’s hard…I know this is what I should do…but the distrustfulness and pain and anger are very, very deep.  I’m better than I was yesterday and tomorrow I will be better than I am today…and that folks, is what it is all about….Onward and upward….

Until next time…..

Therapy

I have been a 911 dispatcher for  24 years come July 1st and in those 24 years, I’ve dealt with most every type of call…911 Where is your emergency….Yes, I just shot my wife; 911 Where is your emergency….This is the ******* State Savings Bank and we have been robbed; 911 Where is your emergency…I think my wife is gone;  911 Where is your emergency…I just saw a plane go down….even when you have worked all of these cases, each scenario is different so you really can’t say you have worked everything because everything is different.  Case in point…the unnerving of the 911 dispatcher…My partner left at 0200 and she had dispatched a 10 person brawl just off the square before she left…this led to criminal mischief to a building – they went thru the front door, and dumb ass drunks at the local motel who low and behold had been involved in the brawl .. so I’m basically busy… in the middle of this I received an incomplete 911 cell call, then a second incomplete 911 cell call – the second one I called back…I was a little irritable…okay, I was downright irritated that his person’s cell phone – probably in a pocket or purse was calling 911…I asked her to please lock her keys and she said she couldn’t and I asked her why and she said because she didn’t have her phone then we were disconnected…now I”m just generally pissed off.  By the way…this type of things happens very frequently – at least once a shift…before I had time to think, her cell phone dialed 911 again and hung up…so I had a head of steam built up and called her back.  She started in with..Hi Mom, of course I called you…are you sleeping…ya, I’m headed to Des Moines – so I realized that something was going on here..I played along and was able to get lots of information out of her because she was pretending to talk to her mom and I was asking the questions….keep in mind, she sounded like my daughter’s best friend and this was quite unnerving and I said…ARE YOU BEING HELD AGAINST YOUR WILL…she said YES…This girl was bright enough to be able to work things into the conversation with me “the mother” that I could figure out where she was … could get her off the highway – she said…mom, does the Caseys in ##### take a credit card because I’m on a quarter tank and I have to go to the bathroom…we got her off the highway..an officer was waiting and made the traffic stop.  The 4 males in the vehicle were taken out of the vehicle – one is in jail facing a healthy charge and she is okay.  I’m not really sure how the whole thing happened but after interviews with these dirt bags, the outcome was not going to be good.  This little thing (in her 20’s) had the presence of mind to play the game that saved her life.

I talked to her again about 2 hours later while she was filling out statements.  I HAD to talk to her.  I think she was just happy to be alive and okay…she thanked me for understanding what she was trying to do and said “you saved my life”.  That is priceless.