Today is January 16th. The month is half over and it occurred to me…”I made it through the holidays.” They started just three months ago with Halloween but it seems so long ago…for me.
Halloween was special in our house. I made quilts for each bedroom and each room had different themes. There were Halloween shower curtains, towels and rugs in the bathrooms. There were Halloween dishes and glasses. True, I probably went overboard but my children always seemed to enjoy the decorations.
As much as I enjoyed Halloween, it became more joyous when it was over because it meant that Christmas was next. I by-passed Thanksgiving (except for the wonderful dinners we always had) and went straight to Christmas.
It was the same with Christmas…quilts, shower curtains, massive amounts of trees and decorations and it was magical for the children…even after they grew up.
New Years were never considered “special.” Loser always seemed to have to work and most of the children were on dates or at parties so many of them, I spent alone. I resented the loud firecracker booms anyway and hoped they would be over when it was time for me to go to bed.
Now, I don’t care about the holidays.
I don’t think I’m kidding myself when I say I don’t care. I don’t think I care about much of anything anymore. I cavalierly say that it doesn’t bother me that my children don’t try to contact me and I think I mean it.
My standard response for almost everything is “I don’t care.”
I discuss this with Sam almost every time we meet. He said that I’m angry and anger is a secondary emotion. I said “secondary to what?”
He said “abuse, disappointment, sorrow…all the things you have suffered.”
I told him I was fine with anger and I would rather be angry because at least anger got me up in the morning.
He said “one day, you and I are going to sit here and laugh together.”
I told him I doubted it, but he could bet his sweet bippy that we were never going to sit there and cry together. He just smiled at me.
He has mentioned several times about “meeting a man who is going to treat me the way I should have always been treated.” I tell him “unless he falls through my ceiling, it’s not going to happen.”
He asked me to imagine that a wonderful man was sitting beside me on the sofa and asked me what I would do. I scooted all the way over to the edge, leaned over the arm, wrapped my legs around each other, crossed my chest with my arms and then I cringed. For those of you who understand body language, that was a clear message…”you aren’t getting anywhere near me or my heart.”
When he asked me what I was feeling, before I even thought about it, I said “repulsion.”
I really like Sam but my answer to everything he says is “no or I can’t or I don’t believe you.” He is constantly telling me that I don’t understand what a “special” person I am…I’m stunning…I’m intelligent…I’m talented….I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT. Isn’t that what a therapist is SUPPOSED to tell somebody?
I am constantly pushing back and resisting everything he says and I think I’m wasting my time, my gas and my money because I know he can’t fix me and I tell him that.
I am beginning to sound like my son, when we were musing over the huge lottery. I don’t play the lottery because to me, it is somewhat like gambling. I told him that IF I played and If I won, the first thing I would do would be to get him into a top-notch rehab place with top-notch doctors and medication. His response? “I wouldn’t go.”
Maybe that’s what I’m telling Sam….”I won’t go.”
I applied to be a Guardian ad Litem. I thought maybe I would be able to help an abused child since I was so familiar with abuse. I went through the process of background checks and references. I was a little excited about it and as soon as the administrators found out that I was “single” they immediately started talking about all the single men who worked there, and said “they are going to love meeting you.” I tried not to be rude when I curtly told them that I wasn’t interested in finding a man.
They called me to tell me that I was approved and instead of being happy, I immediately went into self-protection mode. It would mean that I would have to get out of my house. It would be a commitment, which I would honor without fail but commitments for me, seemed to always be one-sided.
I don’t want to do it. I…just…don’t…want…to…do…it.