Tuesday, 13 November 2012
I haven't been here to my blog in so long that I had to try the password three times before I got the right one!
I'm in one of those frames of mind when I want to share my deep thoughts with someone, but not so loudly as if on Facebook. I think, maybe I can sneak my thoughts and feelings into the heart of whoever may chance my xanga blog.
My faith is God is different from the not too distant past. My faith seems stronger, more resolute, more unwavering. When trials come, I no longer blame Him for allowing them, or being uncaring. This is good. But the hard times I went through in the past, that brought me to the present, have not come without baggage. I still view the future with a perspective of the past ten years. The results?
I am very selfish.
Life is all about me. Will this decision cause more work for me? How much will I suffer? How much will I have to "pay" for it? How much will be asked of me? What will *I* get in return for it? How will *I* benefit from it?
I perceive the past ten years as a season that I was neglected and used. Any hint of returning to a role that looks like those ten years (SAHM, homeschooling, not working outside the home) and panic begins to rise up inside of me. I am mostly selfish because I am self-protecting. But, I'm also selfish because I'm burned out and don't want to give of myself anymore. No matter the past, the present selfishness is a sin. I'm either going to get a big spanking from God for it, or I'm going to have to answer for it in Heaven. I do hope, rather, that I remain open to God's correction, and that He sanctify me out of it, gently, as is His preferred way.
I am not submitted to my husband.
I believe in the inerrant word of God, and I'm not going to try to bend the scriptures in order to appease my discomfort. In His word, plain as day, it says "Wives, submit to your own husbands as unto the Lord." I used to do that. And I feel like such a gift towards my husband was misused. Hubby has never been mean spirited or purposefully hurtful. But he will admit he has been neglectful regarding how he has related to me in the past. Even though he has changed so much in the last two years, as have I, I am still self-protecting in this area, too. I used to hate myself in order to cram myself under his leadership. Self-hate was the only way I could devalue my opinions enough to blindly submit to his, even when I disagreed with him. Devaluation of self is not a healthy way to submit. Now that I value myself in Christ I'm finding it hard to figure out a healthy way to be submissive. In the meantime, we fight all the time about everything. Hubby and I have different views on things. In the past these fights didn't happen because I just erased myself and let him "win" all the time (oftentimes to my own harm). Now, I don't just let him win. In my mind I'm thinking, "Hey! What I think matters, too!" He doesn't think so. And instead of just submitting to everything he says, I stand my ground. I haven't figured this one out. I just hope that God brings clarity to me on this one, too.
On to other news:
We're broke. Seriously broke. Sonny hasn't worked much in three years (due to being in school full time) and we've been living off of student loans and credit cards all this time. We were only able to do this because we had a credit score over 900 up until we went to school. We use to make a lot of money then. A high credit score means high credit limits. Let's just say we could have easily bought a small house on credit card, with room for more spending... and now all of those credit cards are maxed out. So, instead of buying a house (or two) on credit, we have all this debt, with no assets to show for it.
To make matters worse, hubby is religiously anti-institutional schooling, which means all six kids are home all day long, every day. Staying home with kids all day makes me crazy. But you see, he calls the shots on this one, and I'm expected to do the work. Not this semester anyway. His class schedule allowed him to be gone only two days a week, so on his off days he homeschools and I work outside the home. I feel guilty about it all. I am hardly ever home, and when I'm home I'm generally disengaged. The housework is behind, the kids aren't being cared for as well, and I'm not any happier because of it. Though, I am definitely less insane than when I was home all the time. This makes financial matters worse because hubby can't just go out and get a job. Because doing so would mean he's gone full time, and I'd be here with the kids full time. I'm just not willing to do that. And since I'm not willing to be a SAHM, and he's not willing to farm the kids out to institutionalized schooling, he has decided to just not work. You see where I'm going here... we're facing bankruptcy and poverty, and it's pretty much all my fault for not coming back home. Yet, I don't come home because of all the baggage associated with home.
I'm in a very scary place.
Many people have me on a pedestal. I wish they'd take me off. I'm not really all that good.
Friday, 13 July 2012
Infrequent Blog Updates Means a Healthy Angela.
Blogging was my whiny place for soooooo long. But I have been healthier now more than ever. And instead of just whining it out to the internet, I deal with it in healthier ways. That's the reason for my absence.
A LOT has happened since my last blogpost. I'm still dancing, and now have added karate and gymnastics. I won't stay with karate (I find it boring) but I'll be picking up a gymnastics class hopefully this Fall. If Sonny lets me. After all, I'm already enrolled in physical activity classes Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. Love it! But he'll get jealous of my time.
I got a summer part time job at a day camp. I manage all the lunch for about 100 people every day. It can be a lot of work. Especially when I have to go grocery shopping. The perk is that all my kids got to go to camp for free this year, and it's a great camp! They're already begging to go back next year. But I doubt I'll be working there again next year.
I also started my own business. At first it was just doing whatever: sewing, baking bread, selling eggs and bugspray. But once people caught wind of my sewing abilities, that's the direction my business went in. I discovered that I really am capable of doing alterations! When strangers started showing up at my house I knew it was time to get a public location. I started out by renting a 30sq/ft corner in a ShabbyChic store in town. I grossed $600 my first month! I also got in cahoots with the other alterations lady in our area. She is ill in health and will probably be shutting down her business soon. She is happy that I am here because "there's more than enough work for seamstresses in this area." I am expanding once more to my own office/storefront. We found a place LITERALLY right next to our house for only $300/mo (incl utilities). Can't beat it! With room to expand. And it's on the main road. Only problem is that it shares a building with an autobody shop, so it has a questionable curb appeal. But I can fix that up with flowers and mock-picket fences.
One more year of Law school for Sonny. I'll be teaching tumbling at Amherst Dance Academy as well as taking tap and ballet. Still playing at church. Life is good.
Friday, 30 March 2012
Watch this. Then read. http://www.wset.com/story/17279194/family-reacts-to-toddlers-death
It has been a hard week for me. A mix of grief and concern, followed by confused introspection. I have been attending Amherst Dance Academy since October 2010. Joy Buendorf fully accepted me even though I was a 20-some-year rusty tap dancer, over 200lbs, and the oldest dancer. She set the tone for the other dancers as well, and I was very quickly accepted into the fold. This meant a great deal to me, especially with all my insecurities at the time.
ADA has always been a different kind of studio. It's not like any other I've ever attended. It's more of a family than a studio. I only attened once a week last year, but this year I enrolled all my old-enough children and myself taking two classes, one of which I assisted and now am the lead teacher. I spent about seven hours a week among the folks at ADA. I enjoy being there and getting to know Joy and the teachers and the office folk and the dancers and the parents. This is my outlet, and I become an inlet for all the positive "juice" that flows in that place.
It was just a beautiful Tuesday afternoon when Katie called me and left a message. She NEVER calls. She has only texted before. She called to say classes were cancelled, and within two hours it was announced that Josie had died.
Usually, when something like this happens I maintain control and go into manager mode. Usually, I'm the last to emotionally react. Usually, I DO NOT immediately fall to the ground and burst out into tears. Usually, I DO NOT hustle to my bedroom, pull the covers over my face, and after catching my breath, begin to cry and writhe in my bed. Usually, I worry about myself that I may not have enough compassion for others because USUALLY I DON'T HURT LIKE THIS OVER TERRIBLE THINGS!
I hear about terrible stuff all the time. It's the nature of this day in age. But when it strikes close to home, to people you just know are wonderful people, and you know it easily could have been you and your baby... and that little girl who came visiting with her family last month... you know the one you see every Tuesday night when her Daddy comes to pick up her big sister from ballet class... you know, when all this stuff comes together.... well, it's just different. You know?
I've been like a zombie for two days. Life is just flat and bland right now. I can see the butterflies, and feel the sunshine, and run my fingers through my own toddler's hair, but there's still some kind of disconnect in my soul. I know that, just two miles down the road, my friend Joy Buendorf and her family are suffering deeply. And let me tell you, the news video isn't showing everything. Some people grieve outwardly, and others like to do it behind closed doors. Not in front of the camera for all the world to see.
So I'm a bit confused. A little surprised with myself. I'm not Josie's mom, or her family, or even any way related to these people. We don't have some grand friendship, and I've never really gotten to know Joy's children yet. I didn't really have any sort of personal relationship with Josie at all. I've seen her lots and cooed over her as a baby when she visited the studio, etc. So why am I hurting so bad? And who am I to mourn to this degree?
I was just sitting blandly at my dining room table this afternoon, wondering when Sonny was going to get home, aching in my own loneliness, when one of the girls close to the Buendorf family texted me and asked, "And how are you?" And out of no where I just burst into tears. I ran my hands down my wet, hot face as tears shot out like raindrops, and, after I composed myself, I texted back: "I feel very alone in my grief. Maybe because I'm not directly in relationship with Josie I keep telling myself I shouldn't suffer as much as others... but I am. All that to say, I think I'm taking it harder than anyone may think... more than even I would expect. Maybe because I'm a mom, I'm really hurting for Joy."
*sigh* I haven't really seen much of my husband since Sunday afternoon. He doesn't come home on Mondays until 9pm, I got the news about Josie right after he came home on Tuesday so I took benadryl and went to bed, and he stayed three hours late at school on Wednesday and Thursday. He has absolutely no clue how I feel about any of this. He's the one I'd like to talk with the most, to share how I feel. But he's a guy. He doesn't "get it" when it comes to feelings. The only thing he "got" today was that the house was a mess when he came home. And the only thing I got was a distant husband who "didn't like being handed a messy house."
If only he knew how many times my mind whispered "Josie" and "Joy" today. Then maybe he would have understood why the house wasn't clean when he got home three hours late from school.
Saturday, 10 March 2012
I seem to have lost interest in blogging. Hard to believe. I think it's because I've become more private with my life. I didn't like running into people who already knew the thoughts that I kept neatly stuffed inside while in public.
Today was a real downer. An "off" kind of day. I even cried a little. I still feel kind of blah. My friend and I were having a conversation, and at the end of it all I said, "Well, you're a better person than me." She responded something like, "We are all sinners. No one is better than anyone else." But I beg to differ.
Spiritually, we are all alike. We are are dead in our sin, and some of us figure this out and are born again to eternal life. In that respect, we are all the same; no one is better than anyone else. But in this earthly flesh I believe we can weigh ourselves up against another. Not that it's a good thing, but it can be done. What average citizen wouldn't raise their hand and say, "Yes, I'm better than that guy who methodically slaughtered 10 innocent children." Hmmm? So, if my friend loves her husband, loves her children, serves them faithful in spite of all her hardships, and they are rising up to call her blessed, and know the Lord, and she's helping the widows and the orphans, then I'd say she's better than me. Because I'm hurtful to my husband and resist his leadership, most days I can't stand to be around my kids and I don't train them... rather I ignore them when they're being annoying, I constantly want to give up, my kids are selfish and only care about what they can get out of something for themselves, and i quit offering my services to every hurting soul that I run into. All I care about is me; and my kids are turning out just like me. Who is the better person?
Not that it really matters. I'm not jealous. Maybe a little self-pity out of all this comparison disease. That's not good.
I'm tired. Worn out. Weary. Suspicious of what the difference is between God's word and man's interpretation. ...
Sonny is so much a better parent than me that I've nearly given up trying. Why try and continue to fail fail fail when he can just walk in here and do it all without even a twinge of losing his temper or feeling at a loss. My self-confidence as a mother is barely hanging on by a thread, and he comes in and aces it every time. Today, as he was talking our 9yo through a difficult problem I watched as my perspective of myself was sealed. I wouldn't have known how to talk her through that issue!! That's only if I had tried! More likely I would have just brushed it off and let her go and play rather than deal with the issue. I'm a failure at this parenting thing. Sonny needs to be home more so that our kids won't be ruined by me. The only way he can be home more is if I go out and work. So now I'm looking for a summer job... for the sake of my children. They really don't need to be around me. I barely even smile at them anymore. But, I'm ashamed to admit, it's so much easier to smile at other people's kids.
I'm such a failure. At least God still loves me.
Wednesday, 29 February 2012
Tuesday, 07 February 2012
(you know what I like about Xanga? It rarely ever changes.)
I lost 13lbs. Go me. Read a book called "Eat to Live" and have adopted a vegan diet, at least for six weeks. I've cheated a couple times, but for the most part it's veggies, beans, and fruit for me. I've been playing with Serene Allison's "Rejuvenate Your Life" Uncookbook and that has been fun. Nice to be losing weight.
Well, I have a small problem. And I'm sure, with time, it'll just go away on its own. I have officially fallen in love with Amherst County and the Blue Ridge Mountains. Every time I look at those mountains, or drive through this area (which is more and more often these days) I ask God to let me stay. Let me stay here for the rest of my life. Or at least let me stay here to raise the children.
Months ago I told Sonny I don't want to ever leave here. We like our rental quite a bit, but it's a "fishbowl" as far as privacy. And it's just inside the town limits on the town water supply. I told Sonny ideally I'd want to live EXACTLY in this house! It's an old, spacious house, with a view of the mountains, right close to town but hidden in such a way that it feels like it's the middle of the nowhere. I want this! Except I want to be just outside the town limits.
So here's the problem... there is a house. An old abandoned farmhouse from the late 1800's. I can see it from my West-facing windows, and I look at it all the time. I call it my "Old Friend." When the sun rises on its face the windows reflect the sun and it looks like the house comes alive for a few minutes. I told Sonny, "I want to live in THAT house!"
I figured there was no chance. Either it's too far gone as far as 30yrs worth of unattended damage and animals, or its sentimental to the owner and they want it to stay in the family. So I simply HAD to go and see it, half hoping the damages of years of neglect would be so great that it would spoil my dream and I could stop obsessing over it. After many weeks of trying to get a hold of the owners I simply drove to their house and knocked on their front door. They granted me permission to take a tour (everyone else just climbs the fence and trespasses). So Sonny and I toured the house. It's in BAD shape, but structurally sound and not too far gone. It could be restored with a lot of sweat and grit, and maybe half of the cosmetic damage needs to be ripped out and rehung (walls, some floors)! At worst, it probably needs a new or reinforced foundation, and the back room needs to be propped up. It's just outside the town limits in a cow pasture that is leased to an area farm. The owners are wealthy and own a ton of land... money is no object for them and obviously they don't care too much about that house.
This house matches up very closely to a home plan I sketched up four months ago. The plan I made was based on the house we currently live in, only modified for an open kitchen floor plan, with other details. If I move the kitchen to the side instead of the back then my "dream home" could actually fit perfectly with this old house I found! Not only that, but I hate modern homes with their built-in kitchen cabinetry. I told a friend recently that I just want a bunch of open rooms that I can move my own furniture into and make it into the kitchen I want. I don't want cabinets! I want open shelves and sideboard furnishings. Well, this house doesn't even have a water supply, without a bathroom in sight. It never had plumbing and the measly wiring would need to be ripped out anyway. (conveniently off-grid already!) This house is everything I could want, and in the location I want. $25,000 could make most the house comfortably livable by a DIY-er in a year or so, and another $50-$70K would make it match with what I had originally wanted.
I don't necessarily want to own the property. Amherst isn't growing, and it'll probably remain a cow pasture for a long time 20+ years at least. I would just want the house, and enough square footage to move around it. Make a fence to keep the cows out, ya' know?
So I have this big dream... and it just gets clearer and more exciting. It would all depend on the owners and what they'd be willing to do. I'm not at that point... because...
... because I'm going to have to bury this dream. And it's so hard when I can stare at that house every day from my current house. I'm going to have to kill and bury my dream because Sonny isn't at all interested. And I guess he's wise about why he doesn't want to make any commitments here- with school, and needing to find a good job after school, etc. But he also keeps talking about moving to the NH because there's some family property up there we've been invited to build on.
UGH! I don't want to live in NH. The property is on the north side of a mountain (not ideal in the frigid winters) and... NH has frigid winters with loads of snow. Also, there is NOTHING in that part of NH. It's the middle of nowhere. That means Sonny would have long commutes to work, and I wouldn't be near any significant towns or cities (or a dance studio... something I really love). And did I mention the frigid winters and loads of snow?
Kill, kill, kill my dream. Now I have to try not to look out my windows at that house across the pastures, on the other hill. The house just outside of town that matches with the floor plan I dreamed up a while ago. A house we could probably purchase for its appraised worth... $1,000. Yeah, you read that right. No missing zeros. And without the responsibility of taking care of the surrounding acreage.
Kill the dream, Angela. Just kill it.
Friday, 06 January 2012
It has been a month. I figured I should update y blog. Since I last wrote:
Sonny crammed for finals for 10 days. We didn't see him hardly at all that whole time. Meanwhile, all but Daniel and Sonny were in the dance recital (that went well), and started Upward Basketball practice. Right after Sonny finished his finals we had a week of playing catch-up and adjusting to Dad being home, which meant accomplishing some stuff, and completely shutting down with exhaustion (aka resting). Then, my Dad and Mary came to isit from NY for a week. Between the visit and all the extra music obligations for the Christmas season at church it was a busy Christmas week! By January 1 we were in a van bound for Boston to visit Sonny's family for a while. That visit was nice though we could have done without a puking virus that nabbed most everyone in the family. As I update we're in the car on the way home from MA only to be slammed with a drill weekend, forllowed by gearing up for the next semester and getting homeschool stuff situationed. We're kind of in a crisis when it comes to school... the fact that I've given up and haven't done much of anything formal since October. Who knows, maybe if I make some changes, and Sonny is willing to help (he is), then we can tweaks something by and get these kids back into some RR'R. That's all for now.
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
I'm struggling with the question: What am I supposed to be doing?
I've been feeling unsettled for a while now- fidgety. Bored. Bored of life.
An outsider looks in and sees a big house, and six children, and a multitalented me. So they say, "Wow, you're so busy!!"
But I'm not really. I'm bored. For example, during Daniel's nap the other kids were quietly content, so I sat in the kitchen feeling bored, and thought, "What can I do now?" The dishes are in desperate need of attention. The laundry is a mess ever since Sonny took it over (short sleeves and shorts in the drawers, clothes outgrown or stained, and Frank's clothes are in Glory's drawer, etc). The floors need sweeping, vacuuming and mopping. There's plenty of mess to deal with. I really have no reason to be bored, except for the fact that I just did all that stuff the other day (except the dishes... lol). I've been cleaning floors, doing dishes, and doing laundry for ten years now. So even my "to-do" list is boring!!
Is this all my life is about? Really? I'm itching and squirming, battling discontent. I want more out of life than to be free domestic labor.
When I mention my thoughts regarding doing things outside of the home, the majority of people respond with things like, "You can't do that. You have six kids. You can't afford the daycare. You're already doing very important work. This is what you're supposed to be doing." Sonny says this is God's design- that the women stay home with the kids and the men go out and work.
Is it really that simple? Is this what I'm supposed to be doing, even though deep inside I'm unsettled and bored and anxious and dissatisfied? I heard a sermon from the 60's regarding mothers. The minister said the happiest and most satisfied women he knew were the SAHM's who submitted to their husbands. I guess he doesn't know too many women.
I love my children. I want to be their mom. But do I have to be beside them 24/7 in order to be their mom?
Friday, 25 November 2011
I have A LOT of ideas. Ideas for this and that. I repress a lot of them, because I have had so many experiences of feeling like a fool when presenting them to others.
Our tap teacher rarely asks us for our input regarding our performance wear, but due to lack of selection, sizes, etc., she asked us for input. We really didn't come up with anything solid so I decided "This is not my problem, so I'm not going to worry about it." Ohhhh, but it's SO FUN to design costumes!
When I was seven or eight years old I would hand-sew dance costumes, and then would create some kind of show so that I could use them. Inviting the neighborhood and dragging my friends into it, we would perform right out on the front porch.
I was always full of ideas: lip-sync and talent shows, building and craft projects, and secret clubhouses. The adults who were in my life as a child now report how "busy" I always was. "Never a dull moment when you were around. We never saw our kids because you'd be dragging them here and there, trying to carry out some fancy idea."
I guess people just marveled and smiled at my many ideas as a child. But as I got older I began to get the message that I was not acting my age, being childish, and foolish. Maybe peers gave me those sneers because they were jealous that they didn't come up with the idea. But then again, my peers generally didn't like me anyway. I don't know. My teachers seemed to like my creativity.
My creative ideas were used in my schoolwork, and in my college experiences. I flourished as a student teacher, and even had loads of fun in my job as an orchestra teacher- never doing anything entirely "by the book." But as a married woman, and then a mom, my creativity really slowed down due to the cares and responsibilities of the season. In my insecurity I so badly just wanted to be "normal" like all the other moms out there. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I hid.
But hiding and squelching seems to have backfired. I'm a miserable creator. A "stuffed-in-a-box" artist. It totally sucks.
A "costume problem" was just too enticing NOT to care about. I pulled out some scrap material, pieced this and that together, and made something really not-quite-what-I-wanted. But that didn't stop me. So I tacked this up, and stitched that, and pulled and tweaked until I created something I really believed would work for the type of routine, body types, practicality, manufacturing time (recital in three weeks), and price.
But then that feeling came again. Just hide it in the closet. They probably won't like it. It's too "old lady-ish." It's too boring. Besides, the teacher is probably tired of all your ideas: your ideas for choreography, approach, music, classes offered, logistics, interior decorating, ...bartering. You try too hard and now you're being annoying.
But then I remembered that I don't need other people's approval to feel good about myself. *I* think it's a nice costume. And if they don't like it that's ok. They don't have to use this design. But I'll never know if I don't at least propose the idea.
It took me 18 hours to muster up the nerve to be able to make the suggestion via a text message. And it has been more hours of maintenance to keep my mind from slipping into anticipation of rejection- even though I haven't heard back from the teacher. More than anything I hope that no one asks me to model it.
I have so many ideas that I'm too afraid to really go with. Several book titles and outlines. Music CD's. Music videos for others' music. Clothing design. Wall colors and remodeling projects. Ministry ideas from benevolence to pro-life support. Work-at-home ideas that I'm too afraid to even start. Even some gizmo-gagets that I wish I could officially patent and market.
Why am I so afraid? Afraid of failure?
Sunday, 20 November 2011
I'm here. I'm doing my thing. You know, the usual stuff. Got the "Hab-it" DVD to strengthen my pelvic floor, so there's hope in that department. Getting my placenta encapsulation training done so that's been something to do. I have $106 to get me through Thanksgiving, thanks to my dad. Otherwise we're almost completely broke, with our credit maxed out. Apparently this is a common thing with families who's men, the ones with the only income, go back to school. People ask me if I'm worried. Don't ask why, but I'm not. The little ditty that keeps coming to mind is: "My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus' blood and righteousness."
You know, as of yesterday I only had $6 to get me through Thanksgiving, but someone sent me $100 in the mail. As my mom would say, "God works in misterious ways."
Other news? None really. Getting into the real busy season... ugh.
Thursday, 03 November 2011
Had my annual today. (how's that to start a public blog post?... when have I EVER been discreet about stuff like this anyway?) It's been kind of a sad day. The Dr. confirmed everything I already knew: rectocele, cystocele, and it's only going to get worse (as it already has). If you don't know what those two things are, google it.
I'm not in pain, but can have difficulty going numero dos, while numero uno happens even when I don't want it to. The Dr. said I had three options:
#1 Do nothing, and just put up with it. When/IF it ever comes to the point of doing something about it, it will be when I say, "That's it! I've had enough and I can't deal with this anymore."
#2 Pessary. This is a contraption that works kind of like a scaffolding to hold everything up and in place. It's meant more for older woman, and it doesn't really work well anyway. I've read it's way more hassle than it's worth.
#3 Surgery. In a nutshell, have a full hysterectomy, tack "this" and "that" back in place and add mesh if necessary, and "sling the urethra up." (sounds painful) Then, when gravity and age has had it's liberty I would probably have to have surgery again, since I'm so young as it is. Of course they can do it without a hysterectomy, but then I'd have to have a surgical redo sooner rather than later. And even with a hysterectomy, other things are going to start falling down into the cavity where the uterus used to be. (Dang it! Men don't have to suffer like this at all! Ppphhhhhhhhffft!)
So I decided on Option 1.
The sad part is that I have this problem, and it's not going to improve much with kegals. Furthermore, it will get worse with time anyway. If for some reason I get pregnant again the damage to my pelvic floor will get worse QUICKER!
Sad indeed. Makes me want to cry really. I have to choose between the hope of another baby (not like I was really all that interested in being pregnant again anyway, but it's still a hope... hard to explain) and keeping my uterus for as long as possible.
So I talk to my hubby about it, and all he can think about is faith and religion. That's all fine and dandy, but I'm the one who's genetalia is falling out! And I don't care how much faith I try to conjure up, God is probably not going to miraculously fix my prolapse this side of Heaven.
So it's hard. Sad.
Wednesday, 26 October 2011
Have you seen Soul Surfer yet? Well, it's a great movie (for women, since there are enough teenie bikinis to send any inlander man into a porn addiction). I found it to be life-changing for me. When Bethany reaches over and feels that stump that used to be her arm, and has to come to grips with her perspective. Honestly, I'm just to lazy to type up why that movie was so meaningful to me, but it sure is going to be a permanent movie in my collection. I think about it every day.
I have come to accept the fact that my mental struggles are here for good. Like Bethany's stump. As long as I am here on this earth I'm going to have these little dips in my emotions, for whatever reason. But mostly because I've spent the last 35years of my life believing Satan's lies about myself. Thankfully now I've come to the place where I know the truth, and that truth will set me free. But it is a lifelong commitment to choose the truth. Sometimes that's a lot of work. Bethany adapted to her new left-less life. She got a new perspective. And her "disability" didn't stop her from living her life to the fullest. Yes, she sometimes drops the oranges. Yes, she needed to adapt in a lot of ways. And that stump is permanent in her earthly body. But she just keeps going. And I am going to keep going.
I've been praying to God for perspective. Here in my family, in my life, in my role. Perspective. I need it badly. All the former things I leaned on to feel better: internet, spending money, venting, sleeping... whatever. They don't satisfy. We have internet now at the house... in the shed, so it's less accessible... but still. It doesn't satisfy. ONly God can satisfy. That's what I'm learning.
But I'm not perfected until the casket closes. I am perfect in Christ Jesus, but I'm still going to hiccup through my earthly life. That's just the way it is. But I'm okay with that now that I know my significance in Christ. "Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation."
I only came on here to report that life is still hard, but God is good. I don't want to do the dishes, and I don't want to clean the pantry, and I don't want to put another item on the food shopping list. But that's okay, because God has set me free. And after I'm done typing this update, I'm going to go in the house and do the dishes, in Jesus' name. HA!
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
If I only live 'til 70 then this is my midlife crisis.
I am fighting the reality that I may never be able to go back and feel that feeling again. The feeling of what it's like to slide into a split, or ease into a backwalkover, or heck, to ever be able to look in a mirror and like "how I look in that dress."
This lamenting is not be confused with me- my identity in Christ- who I am as Angela. But physically, I regret having allowed myself to deteriorate possibly to the point of no return.
Been kind of a tough day. Not depressed or angry. Just bored. VERY BORED. Bored of life- the mundane repetitive nature of housewifedom. And I sometimes think that all those talents that I have, in music and dance and speaking and writing and WHATEVER, are just wasted.
I have an amazing singing talent, but it's wasted because I have no support. What I really mean to say is, we're completely broke and on the brink of a real financial crisis, and a little income can be made if I'd just record a Christmas CD and sell it to friends and family. Hoping to pay for that trip/vacation to MA to see family this Janurary. But I'm not any good at recording. If someone would set me up with the mic and some background music, I could do it. But I don't have that kind of support.
I have other talents, too. But they just get ignored because I don't have time for them. My life is poured out in general labor. And it's labor that is never done, and rarely appreciated. Certainly taken for granted.
Today, I feel very taken for granted. Today, I feel like expectations have been made, and satisfaction is nonexistent.
Today, I feel like a waste.
There are so many things I could have done and could still do. But instead, I'm cooking good crockpot meals that no one wants to eat, washing red plastic bowls that are dirtied again with the next meal, and sweeping white linoleum that never looks clean.
Today, I feel like crap.
I'm bored. I go a few days doing just fine... doing dishes, doing dinner, doing floors, doing laundry, doing schoolwork, doing childtraining, doing organizing, doing letter writing, doing bill paying... doing doing doing the same stuff over and over again. And then I have a few days of this: bored.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Saturday, 08 October 2011
I miss updating my xanga. But you know what? Now that I have no internet at home I just don't think of updating when I'm at the library or picking up wifi from somewhere.
So, what's going on with me?
I'm doing real well. I don't know what I mentioned the last time I spoke of my recovery journey- depression, anger, and feeling like a piece of crap all the time- but that has been going real well. I got off the anti-depressant again quite a while back. There were some withdrawl symptoms such as drastic mood swings and "brain zaps" that are kind of like a zippy feeling of dizziness. The mood swings are gone, and the brain zaps happen once in a blue moon. However, I still have ringing in my ears and mild hearing loss.
As for the tinnitus and hearing loss, I went to an ENT and had a hearing test done. That was the loudest sound-proof room I've ever been in. All I could hear was the ringing! I thought for sure I'd have a bad result because I couldn't hardly hear the upper tones, but it came out that I only had mild hearing loss. Still, at 35yrs old with no occupational decibal hazards (unless kids screaming is a hazard) it's a mystery as to why I'm having these problems. It came on quickly (the tinnitus and hearing loss) and I thought it was due to the anti-depressant. Tinnitus may be, but unfortunately it's probably a permanent thing. But the hearing loss? The ENT looked in my ears and said "nothing is wrong with your ears" and figured I'd see him in 20 years for hearing aids. Then I had my SIL (who's a doctor) look in my ears and she said I was full of scar tissue. (lots of ear infections) So I made an appointment with a whole different ENT that is set for mid-November. I just don't want to go deaf. I'm a musician!!!
Now that I don't have internet at my disposal I've become a little more productive at home. I play piano a lot, and have been sewing some. But none of that competes with the loneliness I experience in the latter half of the day when I'm tired from housecleaning, cooking, and chasing children and Sonny isn't home yet. *sigh* I get very lonely. But I'm working on all that.
I have all of my children (except Daniel) enrolled at the dance studio where I go for Tap class. Cassie, Grace, and Frank take ballet. Glory takes a ballet-tap class. And Seth takes tumbling. I assist the tumbling teacher so it's been fun to do cartwheels and handstands and whatever that I used to be able to do and can only barely do now. Mostly because I'm overweight. And partly because I lost a lot of flexibility. Anyway, the lead teacher had a baby a couple days ago so I've been subbing. It's fun, but I just don't know what to do with 3yo's who get tired and start to lay around and cry for their moms. Thankfully there are only two 3yo's, and they're really sweet, but still... they spent the last 5 minutes crying (faking it) because they were tired and didn't want to participate anymore. Otherwise, teaching that class was a success.
Not much else to say. I bought some stuff at a vintage shop we have in town- a baker's hutch (which I totally LOVE), a large framed print of two women sitting around a piano (which I totally love) and today I'll be picking up a "shabby chic" style girl's wardrobe with a mirror on the front door. That's for my girls. I TOTALLY LOVE IT!
So that's all for now. Just checking in.
nOsEy PeOpLe sTaRt HeRe:
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