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My Profile
She blinded him with whiteness - 2008-07-25
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8:08 p.m. - 2008-03-24
Boy did I hit a wall today. Before I get into the gruesome details I want to remind myself of all the good things and how this tsunami of hopeless tears is just a wee temporary setback. I did go to the clinic today. I did get my 'script refilled. I have swallowed the first dose. The front porch is totally cleaned off and the Mike Mess™ is gone. This allows me to set up the cold frames and put my 40 darling little strawberry seedlings to root tomorrow. All the wayward blackberry suckers are out of my veggie garden and in a scant few weeks I will be planting shallots, garlic, asparagus, pumpkins, and making ready for the tomatoes, basil, cukes and zuchini to be put in later on, plus around mid-April I'll be transplanting at least half of my new strawberry plantation outdoors. Some plants will be left under the lights in the frames with the glass off just to increase my odds of getting actual strawberries from at least some of my hopeful little sprouts. A 30lb weight gain isn't as awful as a 50lb one. (Yeah, it's a reach, but day-um! 30 pounds is heartbreaking and must be rationalized somehow.) During my teary freak-outs today Mick calmed and soothed me and told me over and over how brave I'd been during these past few weeks while I've been off my meds. Nobody could have tried harder or been more successful at beating back the black and managing to keep life so peaceful and happy for her family than I had. And that was really the best of it…having someone to hug and cry on. I know, I truly know how pathetic this will sound, but until Mick I never had anyone to cry on in person. Not even in the best of times during my marriage to Mike could I go to him when I was sad and be comforted. Any sign of emotion on my part and the Cone of Indifference slid down over him and he was gone. I mean, he could still be in the room but he wasn't there, you know? At all. Of course when I was a kid tumbles and tears were met with stony disgust and orders to dry up and stop being a baby. Even when I was a baby. I remember this from when we were still living in Rockland so I had to be younger than 3. I had a swing. An old fashioned piece of 2 x 4 hung from knotted ropes. It teetered and tipped me off if I sat wrong and I can still feel the way the edge of the splintery board bit the backs of my knees, but it was a swing and it was mine. One day the swing dumped me off backward again. That shit hurt! I got up and shoved the swing away from me as hard as I could, I was so mad! And of course being like 2 years old I didn't see what inevitably came next. The swing hurtled back and whacked me in the face. WHAM! Blood everywhere. I know my nose was going a gusher and I probably had a split lip. I ran howling inside to my mother. One look at her furious face and I knew I'd made a baaaad mistake. She whacked my legs way harder than the swing had whammed my face, told me to shut up and yanked my clothes off. Thunking me on the step-stool in front of the sink she turned on the cold water tap, shoved the bloodied clothes at me and told me to get busy. Blood has to be rinsed out right away or it'll set, you see. It was a laundry lesson I had occasion to use many, many times over during my growing up years. As for the other lesson about not going to others with my tears and pain, that one never quite took. For certain I stopped going to my mother, but I couldn't seem to ever cure myself of needing comfort when I'm hurting. The first place I ever found it was here. You guys have been so good to me. To you maybe it's no big, a few words in a comment box, but to me it was and still is a wonder. Now I have Mick to add to your hugs with warm snuggly ones of his own. I am a very fortunate (and well-comforted!) woman. Guess I don't really need to go into how awful it got today after all. Cool beans.
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