To be or not to be... what, exactly?

I can stand up for myself, and be seen as a pushy, controlling ... you know, or say nothing and be accused of silent treatment and rudeness. Even excusing myself to have a cigarette after an argument (while he's trying to eat no less) is unacceptable somehow.

And so it begins. Feeling dead inside again. Pen up those emotions so they don't make him mad. Say just enough that he knows I'm listening. Pray that the cats behave - because I'll be blamed. Even though he's lived with them for over a year and a half. It's my fault. They're MINE, after all.

What did I do? Where did I go wrong? Why does he act like he hates me?

How do I fix this?! *smacks head*

I told myself cooler heads may prevail... that the tension was temporary... but it turns out he's the same as I was with my mother... he spends time with his folks and comes home angry at me... I'm not driven enough, I'm not trying hard enough, I'm not meeting people, I'm not doing enough...

God knows this move can't have been a mistake. I love the atmosphere here, the space, the wildlife, the sunscapes, the opportunity. Dear Abby... please help. I'm happier here on the whole... now if I could just be happy at home.

I feel like he's given up on me... and I don't know if there's ANYTHING I can do to change that.

Made it to the Pit

Not that I'd do it... I'm too much of a coward... but at this moment, I have nothing, no one and I want to die. Just putting it out there.

EDIT: That was before I made a hole in my bathroom wall roughly the size of my fist and Craig in response TRIED to put his fist through a concrete wall, but that didn't go so well. He's enroute to Toronto Western to be casted. Idiot. Don't get me wrong, both were stupid things to do, but at least I can type with two hands. Now I need to figure out if it was okay that he asked about hitting me before he hit the concrete wall - I invited him to give me a black eye...

...you know what, it was better his knuckle, than my right eye. No one wants a receptionist that looks like she's been 10 rounds with Mohammed Ali.

Another day dawns...

Well, having caught up on a couple of days worth of pictures and posts, I know there is much on my mind. The tension between Craig and I is becoming unbearable at times, leaving us snapping at each other over the stupidest things. We're losing our ability to fight constructively, partially because I have no will to fight or stand up anymore. I'm too tired for arguing. The constant rattle in my brain is enough, thank you very much.

I don't know what to do anymore, like life is slipping by and I'm grasping at the few remaining fibres, trying to hold them together with all the strength in my hands.

If Craig turned his back, I'd have nearly no one. No one who's trust I've earned and can rely on. I'd have to go back to my beloved smother... I mean mother! The thought that she would have me back in her life based on my inability to care for myself... it reinforces everything I think she wants out of me. I don't want to let her have it.

She responded to my email again but I haven't and won't read it. I don't really care what she thinks. Craig read it and responded... I wonder what was said but at the same time feel better just putting it out of my head. He's trying to protect me - just like she did.

I feel bad for hurting her... and yet, there's nothing good in that. I hate/am angry at her for what she did over the years no good in that either. Even in all my sadness that supposedly comes from her - I manage to have my brain spin it so it's all my fault. I don't think she understands that. And there's definitely no good to come from that.

I love the times... well, that's the sad part... there aren't many times I remember having fun and not feeling like I had to be "on". Buying clothes together, going for lunch... really it was always shopping related. We actually didn't share much of a sense of humour.... I don't remember laughing anymore. I know there must have been times... but the only time I remember was when we were outside telling stories about Dad right after he passed, watching the sunset. I remember crying at the same time though, so I'm not sure that counts.

The best thing I have in my life, I'm afraid of losing. But then again, people have a history of turning their back on me, and I tend to prepare for the worst.

As for now, I need to join my love in bed. It's late, and since we haven't killed each other yet, we may as well enjoy sleeping next to each other until the next lover's quarrel.

I love this man to death!

Did anyone get the license plate of that truck?

So I saw Dr. Madigan today. She said a lot of good things and I did a lot of crying and she was disgusted by the 'scissor' necklace charm I got for Christmas... which, for some reason, also upset me. (Wild, that.)

Hey, one thing I've been promising is to be extremely open!

I was asked today, if I had my mother in a room and I could say ANYTHING I wanted, and she could NEVER repeat it to anyone, what would I say?

I thought a long time, started crying and said, "I'd probably rip this damn scissor-symbolism necklace off, throw it in her face and walk out. I'm too angry to say anything productive.

For the record, I was told NOT to do this in real life as that's kinda rude. However I was also told it's okay to angry at her. She's been a controlling, manipulative, passive-aggressive Mom. That doesn't mean she MEANT to do it. It just kinda happened, and like I said, with the family history, it was likely only a matter of time.

It's so funny that after being SO upset by how Craig's family acted during Christmas in 2006, I've come to see them as a highly functioning, open bunch. They just scream, take a nap and apologize later. I didn't get it at first, but after this year - I GET IT! No talking behind people's backs and little vendettas and competition over how big the gifts are for the kids...

Example: Oh, well, if Kathy gives each of our kids $40 each, then we should give Megan something that adds to the same amount - DID ANYONE ACTUALLY SAY THIS, OR WAS THIS JUST MADE UP BY MY MOM?

Christmas this year was so tame. Granted everyone was hungover and I was REALLY not in the Christmas spirit (and heavily sedated), but it was so organic it was hard not to have a great time. Plus I love all the siblings around. Crazy.

Anyway, the bottom line is, I believe my mother to be a passive-aggressive person hell-bent on keeping me closer than is possible. She used my disorder as an excuse to put all the weight on me rather than just saying, "I don't think you're ready to get married".

Are you mortified [for her] yet? You damn well should be.

I'm mailing her the necklace back. Whether or not it was from the One of a Kind 2006 or 2007 is irrelevant. It was a stupid and inexcusable gift given the circumstances.

So, that's it for now - the intensive twice per week sessions start next week. Soon I'll be dying to work just so I don't have to go to therapy!

Also, I'm not supposed to analyze Mom and her actions and how they relate to me anymore. Observe, take notes, but don't analyze. :-/ ...Dr. Madigan thinks I can't do that yet. I'll try though.

R.I.P. Molly

We got word last night from Craig's brother Drew, that Molly, one of Drew's beloved pooches had eaten a slew of his medical garbage which had impacted her stomach and intestines. Craig lived with Molly for a year and a half while living with Drew in Coldwater so he is devastated.

She was an integral part in my coming to love dogs. Large dogs had been a source of fear for me, but meeting "baby" I just couldn't remain afraid!

While the early reports sounded like she was as good as gone, when we spoke to Drew around 9:30pm, the vet had said she was doing better and provided she made it through the night her odds were very good. Craig seemed to have a sense of optimism, I didn't share; but of course, I was grateful she was still here. That was good enough.

Sadly, Molly didn't make it through the night and is being cremated to be burried in the ground she loved to run through.

Craig and I will be going up in the spring for that occassion, but in the meantime, it's just more sadness.