Thoughts Before Starting Therapy

I'm supposed to hear from someone in a few hours to try to get me set up with a therapist. If I'm being honest, I'm very afraid. I'm afraid to dredge up so many emotions that I've carefully hidden. I'm afraid that I'll turn into a non-functional puddle. That's what has happened every single other time I've had these emotions bubble up and I can't handle having that happen again. I think that's what drove me to seek out a therapist. I could see that this was coming and wanted to head it off if possible. I'm still trying to pinpoint what I'm dealing with. I don't know if it's Andy or my mother or Tim. I think it's Andy. This all started last month around the anniversary. I usually get funky around then, but this year was worse than usual. I could barely function at work. Since then, I've been feeling off and on more depressed. When I was calling around to find a therapist, they ask you what kind of issues you're dealing with and I had to explain that I'd been raped by my brother and then that led to being abused by my mother and then that I was raped later on by my fiance. I felt so shaken and upset. I started sobbing in the office. Not actual tears, but I felt that my entire body was being wracked with sobs. Like my soul wanted to burst out of my body. Anguish. I felt anguish. Everything I have tried to repress is bubbling up. I've done so very well at coping. I've been able to emotionally detach from everything I've gone through to the point that I can easily discuss what has happened to me without actually feeling the emotional impact. That's a double-edged sword in many respects. It's allowed me to function and to cope, but at the same time, it means that I've never really dealt with any issues. I don't know how to do that on my own, I only know how to cope. That's gotten me through so much, but I know it isn't a long-term solution. I really don't want more issues to be dredged up, but I know I have to have it come out so I can deal with it. I also worry about the level of therapy I'll get. I've never had a good therapist, so I don't even know what to expect. The last one had me drawing stupid pictures when I was 18. I never got any sort of benefit from her. It didn't help that she was intimidated by my mother. But my mother also had unrealistic and harmful expectations. She just wanted me to be "normal" so she thought if I went to therapy, I would remember what Andy did and then suddenly be fine. Because remembering your brother raping you wouldn't somehow fuck you royally... One of my concerns is that I don't process things like a lot of people do. Support groups are helpful for some people, but I don't feel alone in this, particularly. I know that many other people have been through what I have, and been through worse. I know that I don't have anything to be ashamed of, and I feel like I would be trying to be the support for others instead of just participating. I also need to stop putting myself in the therapist chair for this. I have a decent understanding of therapy styles and of psychology, to the point where I might know where the therapist is going. I need to put that on the back burner for this. I've spent a majority of my life being the therapist. This is supposed to be about being the patient. This is time for me to talk about what's happened to me and deal with it, not being there for other people. In a sense, that feels selfish to me because I also rationalize that others have been through so much worse. I'm too rational and I can step back from almost anything and take emotion out of the equation. I think I'm also worried about diagnoses. I don't want an official PTSD diagnosis. I know I have it, but I don't want that label. I don't want to be blocked from anything in the future because I have flashbacks or because of the stigma associated with it. I also have quibbles about self-harm. Technically, I do self-harm. But it doesn't negatively impact my life. It's more like a self-comforting action than anything, or a nervous habit like someone else twirling their hair. I don't cut, I never have, even when I was suicidal. I don't think that there's necessarily anything wrong with cutting, even. I don't have patches of hair missing anymore and I don't have visible scabs. I've stopped pulling out my hair, for the most part, but I still pick at scabs. But I don't wound myself to create them, just take advantage of what's already there. I've never gotten an infection and the scabs clear on their own. For me, it's as natural as getting dressed or taking a shower. It's just something I do. It doesn't mean I'm troubled, it's just a tic. I don't relish the thought of revealing it to a therapist because they take a very dim view of things like this and I simply disagree with the perspective that it's a "bad" behaviour. I've known too many people who just liked the pain or the relief. They didn't want to kill themselves. I don't even fit that category. It's just something I do. I have 45 minutes before the intake, so let's see what happens. I'll probably update again afterwards.

Israel vs Palestine

There's been a lot in the news lately about the tense relationship between Israel and the Palestinians. The upside for me of Romney making such huge mistakes is that a lot of news outlets are covering it and bringing up issues I wasn't aware of.
Growing up Mormon has an interesting effect on how one views Israelis. I suspect that's true of growing up in any Christian religion. We're taught that god loved the Jews. They're the chosen people. Mormons view themselves as a part of the Jews, so we're also the chosen ones. Our nation is staunchly pro-Israel, because leaders have Christian backgrounds and thus favour them. I never got a very good education about the conflict going on there, but what I did get was that essentially we have to side with Israel because they're God's people.
There's a large problem with that sort of thinking. It promotes a very one-sided way of thinking. It tends to make people view Palestinians as the problem in an incredibly complex situation. There is no black and white way of looking at this situation and to make it appear so would be naive and potentially dangerous.
Lets take a look at this situation. We all know the historical relationship between Israel and Palestine. Half-brothers that just honestly never quite got along...that relationship is still going on today, its just so much more complicated. So the Jews got spread all over. They got kicked out and persecuted for centuries. No one wanted them everyone hated them. Millions were brutally slaughtered and imprisoned. Unspeakable things happened in concentration camps. There is no justification in the world for it. I weep for the victims and the survivors. It was also the straw that broke the camel's back and a great boon for the Jewish people. For once, people were on their side! Thousands of young men died during WWII to save them, among other reasons. The Jews were understandably terrified of the Holocaust happening again. They wanted a home. They wanted a nation of their own where they could be safe. They wanted to live in peace.
To accomplish this, the United Nations declared they could have that home. Britain controlled the area and gave it to them. But the problem is there were people living there not too keen on the plan. This was their home and suddenly they were being invaded, in a sense, by a people they already weren't keen on. I don't think anyone would be keen on this. How would we feel if a foreign entity suddenly decided that the United States was suddenly a home for the persecuted French people? No more US. These people now ruled us. Its the same thing, but with more of a history of animosity.
In hindsight, I don't think it was the right thing to do. It should have been clear at the time, but I understand why it happened. But what right had they to arbitrarily decide this? What right did they have to force the Palestinians to bow to someone else?
So conflict ensued. Palestinians blow themselves up. Israel attacks them and makes it incredibly difficult for them to be successful. Everyone retaliating against the other. No peace. How can there be when there are such deep-seated resentments on both sides?
What is the answer? I don't know. Who is right? I would say no one is. They are both at fault and they both need to work together to try to come to a fair conclusion. They need to find a way to compromise and come together. Hopefully one day it will happen. I doubt I will ever see it, but I hope for it.

Father's Day

So Father's Day was yesterday. I thought about calling my dad, but I never got around to it. I'm a huge Daddy's Girl at heart, but I feel like we just will never be what I want us to be. He'll never really be the father I want. I want someone who understands me and who understands what I've gone through and accept who I am without silently or not so silently judging me. I sometimes hope my mother dies before him in the hopes that maybe we could have a good relationship after that. But I think there's a serious rift that we can't mend. The abuse I went through is a very large part of who I am. It isn't something I'm willing to have someone dismiss or blame me for and he does both. It makes me feel victimized and frustrated. How can you explain that not taking pills made you deserve being hit on the head quite hard with a metal spoon? How can you explain you were so terrified you couldn't learn and deserved to be told you were stupid and then get hit when that didn't make you learn? How can you explain your mother has a side that he has never seen. Or seen only a glimpse of it when she threw a large book at me. And that is easily dismissed because she wasn't trying to hit me with it, just threw it "to" me so I could sign papers with it. You can't get past that mindset. I want to be able to have a relationship, but I know I can't because I'm just throwing myself at him when he will never see things in a different light. He will never understand what I went through. He will never choose my needs over her wants. I should have learned that a long time ago.
Then there's Steve. I miss him so much. He was someone who truly loved me and thought of me as his own daughter. I think of him on Father's Day and I feel an ache inside. I'll never be able to hug him again. He'll never show up and drag me off again. I'll never be able to see his face all lit up and proud and excited because I can't stop staring at his guns. I'll never go shooting with him and I'll never have one of his guns to shoot and remember him like he wanted. He was a damaged man. He had so many problems and I never saw that side of him, but I loved him so much. He was kind to me. He loved me. He's gone. I'm tearing up just thinking of him. I've never recovered from his death. I don't think I ever will. My mind is still where it was before going into the room for the viewing. Unwilling to walk through. Unable to face the truth. Unable to face down my denial and acknowledge that he really is dead. I just push those feelings aside. I cope. I can't deal. I can't sort through it. I'm afraid to unlock everything that I keep hidden because I honestly don't know if I could survive it.
I'm glad there are some people I see that are good fathers. I'm glad Justin grew up unscathed enough emotionally to be a good father and a wonderful husband. I'm so proud of him. I'm proud he's my brother. I'm glad we both grew up and could get along. I'm glad I look forward to his weekly calls. I don't like having anything going on when he usually calls because I don't want to be distracted or have to cut it short. I wish we lived closer and I could get T used to me so I could finally be an Aunt. Maybe when he's older he'll be okay with me and that would be awesome.
I'm dreading testifying about what I saw while being surrogate mommy to Brian and Renee's kids...plus a slew of others. I don't want to deal with the backlash that will probably come when Bethel finds out what I've done. I have no problem telling her off if/when she gets in my face about it. But I don't relish it. I don't enjoy confrontation. And I don't enjoy having people talk about me behind my back. I know she'll gossip about me and what I said. I know I'll be judged for it. People will say I don't understand what parenting is like. The demands that are on mothers. I understand them. She wasn't living up to them and neglected her children and the children of others. I won't be silent. Not if I can help those children. But I don't want them to hate me and I wouldn't be surprised if she tried to get them to.

Conundrum

<p>So last week I spent about four hours on the phone with my dad. I suppose it was good, but it brought up some issues for me.<br>
I'm aware I'm not a favoured child. I'd be stupid to think I was. There are a lot of double standards and it gets to me. For example, my oldest brother used money that wasn't exactly his to use. He should have been setting it aside for taxes since his employer wasn't withholding them. Of course he eventually needed to use that money, so now he owes a crap ton of back taxes. My dad's reaction was, well he shouldn't have spent it, but he needed the money! What was he supposed to do?! Now I was in a somewhat similar situation and his response was pretty much how dare you!<br>
My oldest brother is not divorced, yet he's on a dating site. I don't personally care, but I mentioned it to my dad and he said oh well how else is he supposed to get to know girls? I was with a separated man. I didn't exactly get the same reaction...<br>
My parents drained all of their resources funding my brother's first divorce. If I had married Tim, I would eventually have gotten a divorce. If I had been in the situation where I couldn't afford to pay for the litigation involved, my dad would have said something along the lines of, "well I'm sorry, thats really difficult." And not only that, but they spent all of my college fund on his divorce, so I'm once again just shunted aside and screwed over. And then when I apply for student loans, my parents will be horrified that I'm taking out a loan. I mean geez what do they expect? Sure they would have paid for the actual school, but their calculations included room and board...at home. Its not the same at all, so unless I want to juggle a full-time job with school, which really isn't an ideal situation since I know I need to be focusing all my energy on school, I need extra money. Or now, I just need money, since they paid for the mistakes of my brother.
Its all so frustrating for me. It does make me feel unloved, which I already knew I was, and not even a second-class child. So much for the stereotype of the spoiled youngest child...

dissociative disorder and depersonalization

Every once in a while something smacks me in the face that I've unconsciously realized for some time, but never really made its way to the surface. I will realize things well after an event has occurred and most people would assume that I would clearly realize what had happened, but I do not. I also have an uncanny ability to self-analyze. I think that is why I can do so well without seeing a shrink. I don't deny I need therapy, but I also know that I manage to scrape by well enough by being able to pick myself apart and see why I think and act a certain way. I've realized this is a mixed blessing. Its good that I can recognize what's "wrong" with me, but what isn't good is WHY I'm able to do it so clearly. I have some form of dissociative disorder. In other words, I can be unimaginably emotionally detached, often for long periods of time, I don't feel any emotion. Generally its when I'm undergoing a stress. I don't even feel the stress, but I know I should feel stress. Given the fact that when I took a test to determine my stress level, my number was so high my professor said I should be having a mental breakdown and yet I felt completely normal should have been some sort of clue. I've been through a lot of traumatic events in my life, but I can talk about all of it calmly and unemotionally. It surprises doctors because they expect me to show some sort of emotion over it. I can look them in the eyes and say how much and often and how I've been abused and describe it all as if it happened to someone else. It isn't exactly the reaction medical doctors expect. I'm sure a therapist would be able to tell right off the bat what was wrong with me. I know it isn't a normal state. I know I should feel something, but when emotion starts to surface, I cram it back down and away. Its an automatic reflex and I don't pay it any mind. I shut thoughts out of my mind. If I didn't, I would probably be in a mental hospital. I don't know how I would be able to function without my coping mechanism. I detach. When I've gone through really terrible times, I feel as if I'm on auto-pilot. I go through the motions of every day with little or no genuine emotion. Rarely it will break through and my defenses are lowered briefly. I succumb. I cry gut-wrenching sobs so terrible I can barely breathe to let out another sob. I feel as if I will break from sadness and despair-as if my body isn't able to contain my feelings. But then it passes as swiftly as it came. My detachment comes back so that I can survive. I wish I could say that I thought I had gone through experiences worse than anyone else. That would make me feel justified in my emotions, but when I'm detached from myself the way I am, I can rationalize. I can know that there are people who have been through so much worse than I have and who still manage to get through. Sometimes I feel wrong because I know people have been through worse. It seems silly to be upset over what others would see as trivial compared to their experiences. I don't think I'm ready to deal with a lot of the anger I would feel if I actually tuned in to my emotions full-time, so I suppose its a good thing I just cope...

Reflections on a Year Well-Spent.

Its hard to believe, but I've now been a nanny for a year now. For one whole year of this child's life, I have been with him more than anyone. That knowledge is rather sobering. I am forming a child's life. Of course the parents have a large part in this, but so do I especially now that he's starting to learn and understand speech. These are his formative years. I have the opportunity to help him learn and grow and the responsibility not to screw him up for life. He has wonderful foundations. His mom is a wonderful person who truly loves her son. When I came in for the interview, I was so nervous because I was anticipating a huge house with parents who didn't really care about their child at all and just wanted someone to take them off their hands. I remember pulling up to the house and being relieved that it was a pretty small house and not in a ritzy area. When I was in the interview, I was struck by the sense that this woman truly loved her son. I felt comfortable with that. I ended up talking with her for at least an hour after the official interview was over. I wanted this job by the end of it. The dad also loves his kid but he travels a lot, which is sad. Its sweet to see him hold his little guy before he leaves. You get the sense that he really will miss him. He is pretty well set in lifeto begin with. Its my job not to ruin that. And if the kid happens to like me in the process, I'm good with that.

Its been an absolute roller coaster ride of a year. Planning a wedding, realizing there were issues, realizing I didn't love and in fact didn't know my fiance. Realizing I loved someone else. Losing that someone else, finding him again, losing him and now finding him once more. This doesn't even take into account the other stressors I've gone through. Life has been very difficult this past year. I can't imagine how I would have gotten through without this job. Between the baby, the dog and the mom, I've gotten through. I always had a source of affection and a big warm furry body to hug and sometimes cry on. The mom gave me much needed human contact. Without her I wouldn't have spoken to a single adult. When the dad is out of town, we often sit and talk after work. Its nice to feel like I have a friend of sorts, even if they are your source of income. Its a strange mix.

It hasn't always been easy here though. I've had those days of frustration when he just wouldn't nap, or would only nap a certain way or not long enough. Days when I was so exhausted and would beg him to nap so I could rest myself. He started exerting his independence pretty early and that's been a trial as well. Its frustrating to have to figure out the best ways of dealing with things like that. I think a lot of progress has been made though. He's stopped biting and clawing so much, which is wonderful. So far, he's listening a lot more and accepting that there are boundaries.he's been responding very well and I'm nd I'm proud of him. Its been wonderful watching him develop from a tiny (comparatively) baby who hadn't yet discovered rolling, to a little toddler running around and barking at the dog and learning animals and such. He's a wonderful boy and I absolutely adore him. He's my little buddy. I enjoy going to work. It doesn't feel like work. I "go to work" and then I get there and I'm not at work. I'm hanging out with a little guy and loving it. Its the best job I've had. I remember going to his birthday party and feeling a sense of pride when people fawned over him. He'll never be my kid and I'll never feel like I'm his mom, but that's a good thing. I do have a motherly feeling for him, but he doesn't need a mom like the other children I've felt that way towards. He has good parents and I don't get the sense of protection I've felt for others because he already has that. But I'll take being a mini-mom. I'll mother him when his is busy and I like it that way. Its fun to have him wander over to me and to know he feels safe with me. I can never be and have no interest in being a replacement.

I can't believe its been a year already, but at the same time, its hard to remember when I wasn't here with him. For now, life is good. I'm fulfilled and happy at work. My personal life has finally balanced out and its safe and comfortable and loving. Just what I need and he needs. Not taking things too fast and just enjoying being us. My life has a bit of sparkle every day now. I'm happy.

Thoughts and Reflection

First off, I got home to a very potentially exciting letter-from the Jury Commissioner. I'm fairly certain I'm one of very few people that doesn't groan with irritation at the mere idea of being summoned to jury duty. I think it would be an interesting experience at the very least. I understand that, in general, you don't get to deal with terribly interesting cases, but I still feel that it would be an incredibly fascinating experience being able to participate in the judicial system in some tangible way. I've not been selected for duty, just consideration to serve. I really would love to be able to serve on a jury, but I'm a nerd. I should also probably be reading the legal opinion I was gifted with, which has been incredibly fascinating to read. I'm about half-way through it.

Instead of doing that, I'm sitting here in the kitchen, typing out a blog with nails that are far too long to be functional in such a capacity (I should trim them...but I never have long nails!) I should also be eating my dinner and finding something to eat for lunch tomorrow, or going on a long evening walk because its rather nice weather outside and the longest day of the year. Strange realizations happen at work-not always good ones. I was talking to Boo Boo today, and she made some wise crack that I will not repeat due to the rather offensive nature, though I thought it was pretty funny. Tim would never wear chapstick because he thought it was too effeminate and he was incredibly sensitive about anything that could be construed as such. His father is gay, so possibly that has something to do with it. Steph made a smart-ass remark about something, implying jokingly that he was gay or at least a cross-dresser. Then it struck me that Tim once said he did wonder at one point in his life if he was gay. Having a father that is made him wonder and that, combined with a certain variety of dreams concerning homoerotic behaviour made him question himself and since he didn't seem to be interested in females. Combine that with a sense that he was always very...restrained and his incredible sensitivity to the gay issue when applied to him, now makes me wonder if he is gay. Having been with him for five years, I can honestly say I would not be the slightest bit surprised if he were. At the very least, I am highly suspicious that he is bi-sexual. There was always something that was lacking in the physical arena and there was only once that he ever displayed anything approaching passion, and that would be an absolutely disgusting analogy. Control is not passion, and being able to show such control over a much weaker individual is nothing to be proud of. After being slightly dumb-founded for a little bit over the realization that my ex-fiance likely was gay, or at least could quite possibly be so, and knowing that if he were, he still would have married me and I never would have known unless he decided to come out of the closet at some point after we married and probably had children, I started to think. This usually isn't a good idea for me.

I have a lot of regrets about my relationship with Tim, if one can call such a thing a relationship. In reality, it wasn't much of one, I think of it as a farce. In reality, the relationship lasted so long because I willed it so. I gave it everything I had and more. I tried so hard to work things out in a productive manner. I failed, but I failed because I didn't have an equal partner in these efforts. I've since realized that I wasn't the problem. That sounds harsh, but when trying the same methods in different situations, things were actually able to be resolved. All it took was someone who is able to communicate in a calm logical manner, when needed. I thrive on that. Yet I was always labeled as the "emotional" one and Tim was always the superior logical being.

Tim and I had so many issues. I never trusted him. I never had that much reason to, in fact, I was given multiple reasons why I shouldn't have trusted him, yet he always wondered why I didn't. Well, if you lie to me-if you purposely neglect to tell me information that you had promised to tell me, then I ask you point-blank about it, and you tell me, I'm not going to trust you. If you lead me to believe something, and I discover accidentally that it isn't true, I'm going to have a very difficult time trusting you (really? you "forgot" that you used to mess around with your cousin...just a few years back...really?? I call bullshit) If you purposely do not tell me about things because you think I'm going to leave you, (a) that is a reason TO tell me! (b) what the hell are you thinking not telling me and just going through your life lying about it?? That speaks volumes about the person I was planning to marry.

I nearly left him many times. I can't even count the number of times through the five years that I handed him a ring back-either his class ring or the engagement ring. Some of the times, I felt like I was messing everything up and wasn't able to have a healthy relationship at all and was saving him, by attempting to leave. After we were engaged, for the most part, I had stopped. I had made my decision and I was sticking to it. I fooled everyone. Tim and I were the "perfect" couple. I never told anyone the problems I was having with him. My best friend, and sister didn't even know. She had no clue before I dropped the bombshell of what was the pre-break-up events. I'm hoping I didn't shorten her life-span with that... I'm pretty sure that if I had told anyone anything about our relationship and Tim found out, he would have been very upset. When I did tell anyone anything, he wasn't happy about it at all. That didn't just include problems. In general, I feel that relationship issues shouldn't be spread around. You deal with it within a relationship. I should have told Steph. People were telling me to leave him, but when those people have obvious ulterior motives for wanting you single, you just don't tend to listen. I mean honestly, "break up with him so I can be with you!!" just doesn't cut it in my book. Would I have left Tim if I had said anything? Maybe, I don't know. I think it would have at least forced me to look at the issues a little more closely. When things came up, I tried to discuss them with him, and the upshot was that he would say, "I'll try" I bought it. Then I forgot about it until it came up again. I just let things happen, in a sense. I wanted to know what he was doing in school. I didn't like sitting and having dinner with his mom and having her ask me how he did on a test I didn't know he even had. That makes me look amazing! I always felt so left out. He would say he told me the important things. I'm not really quite sure what he felt was important, because he never told me much of anything. He wouldn't even tell me about podcasts he listened to. He said he didn't think of school as important, so he wouldn't tell me. So school isn't important, even though it has a direct impact on our planned lives together. Something as mundane as a podcast isn't important, or more like he wouldn't tell me about it because he didn't think I would like it, or would be offended. Had he ever met me? I don't actually offend that easily. So, what WAS important? I don't honestly know. I found out so much from his mother that I should have found out from him. I got the sense that I was a very unimportant member of his life-despite his claims to the contrary. I never came first, ever. I'm not saying abandon your family obligations for me, but I am saying that if I need you because I'm having some sort of crisis, at the very least ASK your mother if you can have a ride over to help your poor stupid suicidal fiancee without having her nearly kill herself. Just sayin... At the point where I'm actually on the phone with him and say "fuck you, timothy" and hang up on him because he wasn't trying to help when he lived a 3 minute drive away....instead I had to drive over and pick him up when I should never have been anywhere nearer the driver seat than the passenger seat... Just one example, but fairly indicative of the state of things. Or knowing that his mother was in the wrong, and telling me so, and apparently telling her so in private, never backing me up in front of her. Seriously, go marry her already, because that was just the tip of the Oedipus Iceberg.

But this wasn't meant to be a venting of every issue he and I had. Before everything came to a head, I remember standing in the kitchen with him and having his mother call me and ask how he was doing. I told her he seemed fine, why? she said oh, even with having to change majors? Gee I look soo informed. "oh, I didn't know about that, he didn't tell me..." That night, I was so incredibly frustrated. All I could say was how could you not tell me? Telling me that the counselor said to call your parents to ask for advice about what major to pick, so you called mommy, doesn't cut it. I was marrying him. All I could think was how we were ever going to make it. I honestly don't remember if things had already started and I was in the middle of the back and forth emotional roller coaster that the pre-break-up was, or not. I don't think it had started yet. I remember that he had no idea why I was so upset. I remember beating on his chest out of sheer frustration and feeling that I was talking at a brick wall...with spikes...and beating my head against it...hard. I was so close to leaving him that night. I remember staring at my engagement ring and wanting to give it back, but not wanting to give up the idea of being married, I think. I had worked too hard to get to that point, I wasn't going to stop then. That was a mistake, and one I hope I never make ever again. I truly believe that I stopped loving him a long time before all this. I got through on habit and sheer force of will. I forced it all to happen. Mea culpa.

There is one thing I will never forget, and I never want to forget. The moment I knew that I couldn't be with Tim anymore is one I will never forget. It changed my life and at the moment, I was incredibly happy. The moment was two-fold. On one hand, my mind-set switched from an "if" or a "when scenario. The moment I realized that, everything I ever felt for Tim was gone. My heart was so incredibly full and I was content. The logistical aspect of making sure I was sure and that it wasn't some random whim eventually set in, and that wasn't quite as fun and well....it had consequences that I'm not over yet. But in that one moment, I knew peace and tranquility and happiness. I've been through so much since then. More than I ever want to experience ever again. Many things that have left deep wounds that will need time and care to heal. Despite that, I've reached a good point in my life-an amazing point. I've become the person I used to be before I used tim and his mother as my crutches. I'm an independent woman, and I love that feeling. I know who I am. I know what I am. I am strong, I am a survivor. I can make it I'm, not on my meds, yet for the most part, I feel the way I did when I was taking them. It boggles my mind. I'm living a life that is wonderfully stress-free. On top of that lack of stress, I'm happy. I'm finally happy. My life sparkles most days. It doesn't sparkle because of anything that's forced, but because I just can't make it NOT sparkle. I'm actually happy most days. Of course there are days when I get grumpy. But I always get a message that makes me smile like a moron while I'm walking down the street attempting to put on grumpy face so people leave me alone. I love it. I love the person that I am, without the sparkle. I wasn't always happy before my sparkle came, but I respected myself and I was very proud of the person I'm becoming. But my life has a new dimension and I just can't help being in a wonderful mood.

Now I'm going to eat my dinner and go read legal stuff and be a nerd :)