v to the jayjay

kim called this afternoon. surprisingly chipper for just giving birth.

i see your drugs haven't worn off yet.
yah, well. you try going it the natural route.
touche'.
you should see him, kat. he's gorgeous. looks just like dad.
lets talk about why we went with "dean" instead of "dane", shall we? i, for one, would just like to announce my marked dissapointment.
dustin liked "dean".
fine. lets talk about why you really called. how's the woo.
ugh.....i had to get an episiotimy.
bet you're glad you didn't hafta feel that sucker.
:exasperated: i'm sooooo grateful i have you to discuss all my personal issues.
hey. thats' what big sisters are for.

thursday thhbbtts

this is my new favoritest thing, since snuggles new peach blossom dryer sheets: palmolive scrub buster crisp blast. its smell-good and a pretty bottle all wrapped up in one. and if you're like me, that's important.

also, you'll want to take note of my fancy schmanzy use of html up there. which reminds me. not a one of you reminded me to get my ink cartridges filled @ walgreens for free yesterday. i trust this was because you all were standing in line to do just that.

so i am an auntie for the 3rd time around. weston dean. both mama and mini squirt are doing fabulously. but i'm highly dissapointed in their choice of middle name. i may need to leave them out of my will, now.

also, my house poking was a bust. small world that it is, turns out the "auto-mechanics teacher-turned-realtor" actually used to teach jason in high school. my hopeful introduction lost its hope pretty durned fast, when we spent the first 5 minutes talking on the porch, with him blocking the door. i realized that to enter the promised land, we first must pass his spanish inquisition, so i pretty much gave up right then and there...kind of zoned out and drooled on myself.

i dunno. either jason was a rotten student or i wasn't holding my mouth right. but by the time he'd actually opened the door for us to enter the house, i was already heading for the car in my mind. i stuck it out tho, always morbidly curious as to the many creative ways my ballons can be popped. we didn't even get to the basement and the workshop. he brought us back to the living room and turns out i gave him his out.

we stood and shot the breeze about gas vs. electric and then i struck. "so we mentioned we have 2 adult male cats. both fixed. and a miniature weenie dog. did we talk about a pet deposit?"

he faked a cringe and snapped a thumb-to-finger... "gosh. i'd have to go with a nooo, for this house, honey. 'wish i'd have known about that...could've cleared that up front....don't really want pets here. "

i snapped my mouth closed and nodded like the stupid person he obviously took me for, recalling 3 seperate phone conversations prior, with this same man, and the terms "sure! we're pet negotiable!" and, "how soon could you move?" and "we'll work something out with the deposit" and, "i'm not worried about it." and, "i'm so glad you called!"

he realized his error. but too late. he feebly attempted to cover it with a "yeaaah. i'm pretty sure i've got someone lined up for this place, aaaanyway. had alot of interest."

what the hello ever.

in the same breath, he actually recommended we look at a trailer of his, down the road.

a trailer. down the road. it may as well have been a van, down by the river, at that point.

i don't know about you, but for some reason, i find that offensive. do i look like i should live in a trailer? i thought i'd scrubbed my redneck as hard as i could. i opted against teasing my hair for our little open house, and at the last minute, threw my nascar teeshirt in the laundry.... i even clipped my toenails.

ugh. ::shiver::

its certainly not that i haven't, or wouldn't again, but just the fact that that was his peace offering. it was insulting. which i managed to relay, after obliging him and following him over to look at it. i guess, when i'm displeased, people tend to read me like a book. we spent all of 2 minutes inside and i walked back out while jason scrambled to be kind. the landlord mumbled "some people don't really like trailers...some do..." and i shot back with, "well. we've been there, done that... kinda trying to move up in the world, you know. i suppose that's why i called about the house. "

after that, well.. there wasn't much more to say. we exchanged pleasantries. he mentioned 3 other houses in the hood that he's renting and i climbed back in the car and sucked my face inside out, refusing to cry.

so its another day in paradise. but the way i see it, paradise isn't all that bad.

here's what i know

you can't change anything if you're not willing to change.

talking to christy last nite, i realized i'm very jaded. its not that i've lost total optimism. its just that logic and realism tend to pale that, in comparison. kicked one too many times while you're down, can do that to a person. i'm no martyr, and a visit to the trailer park a few miles down, will leave you with the impression that i'm living at the ritz. there are plenty, worse off than me. but in my life, i've lost alot. i've had times of plenty, and i can't tell you how many times that good things have been ripped from my life.

that's humbling, at best. and at worst, just plain phbbtty, m'gritty.

i consider myself to be an empathetic person. but the older, more experienced i become, the less patient, understanding, i am, when it comes to people running in circles. if i've had to do it, by toads, so can you, kind of philosophy. thats not fair, but i acknowledge that wholeheartedly.

so somewhere in the midst of all this, my eleventeenth midlife crisis, we decided maybe it would be a good idea to move in together? 3 adults. splitting the bills 3 ways. an interim, some breathing room, a stopping off place,while everyone gets back up on their feet. we're all going thru a difficult stage. so why not alleviate some of the pressure in the process....

i think, sometimes, God gets a great deal of enjoyment out of all my scheming. you'll notice that i never took the time to ask Him, during all this decison making.

i have a bad habit of surrounding myself with chaos, which directly contradicts my ocd/anal retention, and, i have a sneaking suspicion, God. the truth is, i'm in love with spontaneity but i cling to, aka worship order. talk about some yin to your yang. trouble is, my harmonic balance always ends up just a smidge off skew.

this idea has been no different. here we live, paycheck to paycheck, not unlike half of middle america. we have nothing saved back. not because we're lazy but because we're never able to. 3 very different adults, struggling to get by, get thru, heal, change... a couple, sorting thru their marriage, my dear friend, feeling confused and convicted/conflicted as a lesbian, 1 headstrong 7 year old, going on 17. four very different personalities. throw in 2 extra dogs and cats and alot of emotional baggage, and we've made ourselves a home, no?

in theory, i know what you're saying. it sounds all a little too romantic and white-picket-fence. ha! but i lie awake at night, wondering how in the world we'd ever pull that off. so when she called last night and voiced her doubts, in not so many words, i was at once, relieved and then just irritated. she wondered if she'd dissapointed me, and i was honest: the only person dissapointing me these days, is me. i was irritated not because i've already harbored the sneaking suspicion it would never happen....that it didn't need to happen...but humbled, because yet again, this wasn't something i'd really talked to God about. i was aggravated that she was not ready or willing to take that step, when by toads, if i am, then someone else better be, right?

that's not to say i'm always so great at stepping out, myself. who are we kidding. but i think thats wounded me far more than helped me, in my life. learned behavior can be changed. but 10-1, its not gonna happen overnite. and very rarely, is it a picnic in the park. i've wanted healing for her. but there again, i can't make that happen on my own. sometimes, i think i'd do well with a personal assistant to reign me in....

this house, tho has its finer points, has slowly lost its charm. and yet i know a great deal of that has to do with what happened a year ago. that, and our upstairs neighbors, possibly. its ironic, i say that.... goes to show that the grass is not always greener on the other side. when i first moved to this section of tennessee, i fell in love with the tree streets here. large, older homes, full of history and quiet, stoic beauty. i could see myself here. and i felt like actually getting here, years later, was an answered prayer. i suppose it was, in a way. God answered it, but only to allow me to see the bigger picture.

like so many other things, it feels tainted, after all this time.

but i also have trouble with staying focused and blooming where i'm planted.... so there you have it.

we're going to look at that other house today anyway. even tho christy is no longer along for the ride. even tho its $100 more than we pay currently. even tho its not the best time. and we have nothing to go on. nothing really going for us. but i prayed the other night that God woul lead us in the right direction, either way. so, in the same token, we have nothing, therefore, to lose. i laid in bed last night, listening to the neighbors either break down their meth lab or practice bowling, one, and imagined where/how i'd position everything there. how nicely it would all fit together. how we wouldn't have to creatively store (cram) things in closets, like you do, with apartment living. how we'd have a huge yard, and a basement - complete with a workshop. a garden building. room for a garden. how i'd arrange the built-in bookshelves. how i'd have no carpets to clean. how jason could park his yacht (bass boat) in something other than the yard.

i want it.

i don't know how or where or why that might ever fit into Gods plan, and it more than likely won't. but i want it, all the same. and so, for a few moments tonight, i'm going to enjoy peeking in corners and cupboards and closets and daydream how all of our things would fit so nicely into all of them.

the good, the bad and the ugly (part 1)

i recently deleted a web journal i'd kept for over 4 years. i logged on, one morning, took a deep breath, with my finger poised over the key. i closed my eyes, and pressed down.

i'd like to say there was joy uspeakable. unfortunately, it felt more like having the wind kicked out of me. there was, at least, a breath of fresh air, after.

there are many,many reasons, i took the site down. they matter, not. it is simply good that i'm here, now.

my profile picture is one of my all-time favorite pictures. it captures a joyful me at a not-so-joyful but oh-so-humbling moment in my life. i was happy. and being reminded of that, when i log on here, feels like a good thing.

i'd love nothing more than to catch a quick nap before bella gets out of school. but i know that's about useless, so instead, i'm here. thinking a little too much. thinking about a friend. i don't know why it bothers me, when it so obviously doesn't bother her. this friendship i sweat blood and tears and laughter and years for. this friendship that in reality, means nothing.

you know that moment in jr. high, when, no matter your popularity score, you realized you had suddenly been duped in a situation? you froze, face red, while everyone enjoyed the joke on you. and if such a thing existed as melting into the floor, you would have.

i had a friendship....we had a friendship... that rivals the closeness of some siblings. so close that we even attended eachothers family reunions. our summers were filled with day trips, exploring, always traveling some place or another. grilling out, camping, hitting the lake. late nights dancing and singing to 80's music. playing board games, video games, card games. we were there for eachothers weddings, births of our kids, holidays. candace and i could discuss everything from fried potatoes to that not-so-fresh feeling.

and all of that feels, right now, like that cruel joke.

i look back and i recognize all the little warnings and signs and inconsistencies along the way, the ones we somehow always overlook when we tell ourselves that we love or care about someone. the idea of holding someone accountable, or better yet, staying true to our own standards, somehow flies right out the window when we settle into the comfortable complacency relationships afford. when this feels good. when this feels right.

jason & k had been friends since childhood. i came along somewhere in the middle of k's 2nd marriage. 'had been there the entirety of his courtship and 3rd marriage to candace, who quickly became, my best friend. keyword: mine. i don't know that she was ever a friend to me. and i don't say that with biterness. its simply truth, realized after all this time.

we were too close. we let our guards down. we became dependent on eachother. we let things slide. rather than just a friendship, we became almost a marriage. and the undertow was silent but steady in its deception and ultimate demise.

i understand what i feel is part of Gods' lesson in letting this go. but it doesn't make it any less painful.

looking back, i should've taken things more seriously. i knew the alignment in my life was off track, let alone all of ours. but it was far easier to go with the flow, until jason & i started to have very real issues in our marriage. what should have been my first warning signs...the red flags....were instead, overlooked, in my desperate grasping at straws. you ignore snippets of *harmless* conversation. actions, lies.....because you tell yourself that you, at least, are innocent. you don't have a horse in that race. and you make excuses and allowances for just plain bad behavior.

and somewhere, in that process, you lose the part of your soul that is good.

i was raped, a year ago new years day.

only, it wasn't a brutal attack by an absolute stranger. it was a drugged, forced act by a friend closer than a brother.

and so i don't fit into any one stereotypical category. and i think, at times, thats the hardest thing for me to deal with. there are 4 people and countless others, involved. affected. there are marriages and friendships ripped apart at the seams. there are years of love and laughter and tears; countless memories now tainted.

i am angry at this, my loss. i am resentful of the people involved, that i feel have abandoned me, in their own failure to understand. to respond.

in and of itself, i could probably sort thru this. you tell yourself that you could've prevented it. you sort thru layers of guilt and contempt. in the big scheme of things, it was just sex. you should be over it by now. but there's no one perfect way to get thru anything. and this one solitary occurance has been the proverbial straw that broke the camels' back, for me. thru more painful days that i care to mention, i've realized that i've spent years of my life carrying around that *backpack of crap* that so amused my therapist, having never truly emptied its contents. i guess i kept finding pockets to hide things in...

and while this is so obviously the most ominous presence in my life at this time, i find it good, that i'm no longer willing to be silent. that bravery, alone, no matter how fragile, encourages me. the thought that maybe i'm not so far gone that i can never move on, is comforting.

i read this comment the other day:

"and right now i'm akin to being covered in salt and drug behind an insane horse who only knows how to run on glass pathways"

i totally get that.

its the *going back* that seems to be my biggest struggle. i mourn the loss of the person i used to be. the life that i knew. the people that used to round out so much of my life. times gone by. all that stuff i can never get back. i have the ability to move on. i could get better. but its a hard balance for me..... this delving into my past...sorting thru piece after piece, deciding which pile it fits into. trashed or truckin' on.

i think the fact that there are so many areas in my life without closure, exposes a really painful truth that i've chosen not to deal with. i used to say "no regrets"..."no failures". but there are. so, so many of them. so much guilt; self-loathing.

i'd like to learn to love those scars, those bumps in the road that make up my story. i want a life of significance and purpose. i want to be a testimony and an encouragement to others that have felt the loneliness and the loss that i know all too well. but to say not that i've triumphed over, but am traveling thru it, with my eyes wide open, my mind clear. and to embrace that, genuinely.

as a testimony to irony, right before this happened, candace and i had spent many a long night talking about our spiritual lives ~ namely how stunted they'd become. we had a mutual desire to get back on the right track. for ourselves, our children, our husbands. and we were in the tough position of being that one influence in any of their lives. she and i had come from similar homes and backgrounds. we wanted that fulfillment back in our lives. and it started slow. we got back into church. and, as our strongest supporters, we encouraged eachother along the way.

the night her husband raped me, i smoked marijuanna for the first time. mixed with alcohol, it was my proverbial death sentence. k pulled out his sleek little surprise long about 2 in the morning. we laughed nervously and looked back and forth at one another across the room.

i'd been the perfect hostess that night. we'd had a full dinner and gobs of finger foods. 'played board games and cards long into the night. most were slowly heading home after an enjoyable evening. the girls were having a sleepover and appropriately looked after. no hard liquor, per my request, but mixed drinks had been plentiful, and i'd been careful on my intake. i knew i'd be the one up early on kid duty with 4 rambunctious girls in the morning.

there's no excuse. there's no reason why any of us should have even entertained the idea. or why 4 of us stepped onto the front deck, that cold night. shortly thereafter, i remember feeling just bizarre. i sat down on the couch and then excused myself to the bedroom. i laid down, fully dressed. i couldn't keep my eyes open. i can recall everything that happened that night, what was said, and more importantly, what was done. and i felt utterly useless. a zombie. i couldn't respond. couldn't defend myself, and he took full advantage of that.

i remember screaming in my head. i remember feeling so ashamed that i'd let myself get this intoxicated. i rembember wanting jason to rescue me. for someone to walk in that room. i remember falling out of bed, later. a naked, wet, tangled mess.

my therapist wants to imagine that he spiked something. i don't know. he and jason had traded off, in charge of the drinks that night. i know that i wouldn't put anything past him, anymore. i don't know this person. this person that single-handedly ripped apart a friendship. i hate him for that.

and i'm grateful, because it needed to happen.

i wasn't defended. by anyone. it was a shock to everyone. and in the aftermath, i was abandoned, and left there to struggle thru all of this, alone. i have hated all of them for that. which is something i really haven't wanted to let go of just yet. i don't think its fair, that they go on with their lives, leaving me to fumble around in the dark. they don't want to talk about it. they don't want to validate my hurt. to have to deal with it.

i want them to hurt as much as i have hurt. i would rather someone scream out loud, than to endure this deafening silence.

it's because of that, i don't know where i'm at, in regard to these relationships...... i should never have smoked weed. i'm in my 30's. i should have gone that route in high-school and been done with it. and the thing is, i knew better then. it never even crossed my mind. so why wouldn't i know better now....it should never have crossed my mind. i shouldn't have even been in that place, mentally. i can't even handle more than a couple mixed drinks without feeling buzzed.

i know that my healing can only come about when i can truly forgive myself.....and forgive him, despite himself. forgive him, when i will probably never in my lifetime hear him ask it. but this is so hard. he betrayed a trust. a sacred trust. i should have been safe in my own home., with his wife nursing a baby in the next room and jason out getting cold medicine for a sick little one. he took advantage of a situation and took something from me without asking. it was not his to take. all those awkward moments when he'd make comments about how pretty i was, when he'd goof around flirting, that i passed off as him just being a typical perverted guy, make me sick to my stomach now. i hate him for his countless lies and indescretions thru the years, that i saw and never held him accountable for. that i never called him on or confronted him with until it was too late.i hate him for lying about this still, claiming he was too drunk to remember anything from that night. i hate him. for what he did to his wife. to his best friend. to me. and for not dealing with it now.

i hate candace for abandoning me. i hate that i wasted so much of myself in a friendship that at best, now feels so damned one-sided. i considered her my closest friend. and after everything over this past year. after everything i've done and been for her. all the years we've invested in our friendship, that she chooses him... that she has the gall to ask me to still be her shoulder to lean on, but in secrecy, so he doesn't know. so she can work on her marriage and keep me too. i want to understand the position that she's in. but i'm angry that she can not do the same for me.

i hate jason for not defending me, to this day. for not protecting me. for not standing up or fighting for me. for leaving me completely and utterly alone. i hate this marriage that has climbed so many mountains only to realize i'm the only one there to catch myself when i fall off the other side. i hate that this one thing seemingly erases all others. all my struggling to trust him, again and again and again and again, seems like such an absolute waste. why. why am i not worth more than all of that. why am i not worth being taken care of. loved in the way that i have so unconditionally loved.

when i look at the situation objectively, there are 4 very diverse people, all in their own corners, all struggling to get thru. k knows exactly what he did. but he's angry that he's been cornered. that he's forced to fess up to a lifetime of lies; of a past and insecurities that he's never dealt with. so rather than redeem himself, he chooses to ignore it all and just walk away. after all, i didn't press charges. so he's free and clear. in essence, he got what he wanted out of the deal.

candace is desperately clinging to a life, that in alot of ways, she's just now waking up to. she hates him for what he did. but she doesn't want to give up on her marriage. she has 3 innocent babies. how can she get thru that on her own.

jason loves me. he is devastated by the idea that his closest friend could have done such a thing. he mourns the loss of a closeness that will never again be there. he regrets his silence. that he missed possibly the most important opportunity in his lifetime, to be my hero.

and there's me. there are these moments when i feel certain i can't hurt any more than i do. and inevitably, when i take that step, i realize with stunning clarity, "oh yes, i can.".

eh. i never said this would be "light" reading.

whats your sign

growing up, i was told astrology was a forbidden fruit, so to speak. that God "wasn't in signs and stars". and that these things were the neighbor to the dark arts. today, i feel much the same, tho my understanding and study of those dynamics has drastically changed. i believe in God and creation, period. and with that, the cycle of the sun and moons were set in motion for a purpose and significance.

if you think about it, all these natural things that surround us are of use. they are the balance that spurs the truth and connection in all beliefs grounded in meditation, down thru the ages.

i have never found horoscopes or readings of any kind especially useful or poignant. mostly, they're silly. i've had my taro drawn twice, by well-meaning acquaintances & found them to be mildly accurate, if entertaining. the only thing that stood out in both, was the presence of a dark haired male and the significanceof his connection with my life.

numerology is something else entirely, and reminds me of wordpage games we played in middle school. assigning letters with numbers ~ adding numbers until you were back to a single digit. for fun, i did my name one time. i found it interesting that my "life path" and "destiny" numbers they talk about, didn't at all match the 2 numbers that i've always associated as my *lucky numbers*. instead, those 2 numbers match my daughter. to me, thats interesting, the fact that numbers from a random birth name match her, is unique.

but i always look for the significance in circumstances. in conversation, you can bet i'm absently highlighting the reason for talking to this person. at this time. taking note of what was meant to be. why God put me in this situation.

after my last post, i decided to research my actual birth day. turns out mom was right. i was indeed born on a tuesday. which spiked my curiosity and i did abit of browsing....i knew i was a sagittarius. a cat (rabbit) in the chinese zodiac. my element is fire. i remember being dissapointed when years ago, i discovered that i was fire when i far more identified with earth. i suspect thats where the elemental *wood* balances....wood ~ associated with negative feelings of anger and depression, and positive of patience and altruism: the unselfish concern for the welfare of others; a selflessness.

i'm always fascinated by the characteristics those signs represent, that kind-of define me. i don't take any of it too seriously. but i find it somewhat interesting....

so. i'm whats known as a "mutable sagittarius". mutable, from the latin root, which means"change". flexible and adaptable. evolving thru learning, traveling and knowledge. Mutable signs have a restless nature that comes from being the breakdown before the breakthrough-- in preparation for the end of the season. the key word in my "life path" is freedom. instinctual. idealist. a forthright communicator. i don't like to be restricted. i struggle to feel real and solid. independent. apt to be multi-talented but suffer from lack of direction. discontent. indecisive. holds people up to high standards . generous nature. fun-loving. optimistic disposition. prone to appear overly spiritual or philosophical in coversation. overindulgent. enjoys all aspects of the arts. reserved, creates peaceful, comfortable environments. attention to small detail. and only when things are in order, can i relax. opting for safety over risk. passionate when inspired. likewise, inspiring. nourishing. nurturing. a warm radiance, a trust in life's journey and a willingness to take risks. relying on intuition. i am drawn to the east, planet jupiter. the colors brown and green. i am a primal spirit.

interesting enough, those are very real characteristics that i do have. and i am fiercely independent to a fault. the whole "breakdown before the breakthrough" bit was especially intrigueing. as was the "safety before, but willingness to take" risks, too.

on the negative, i'm often taken advantage of. taken for granted. i realize this. in past,this hasn't stopped me from caring. i am very much a nurturer. i take great pride in the knowledge that people are comforted by me. and yet i am resentful of all that that role encompasses. in moments of quiet escape, i look longingly at the lives placed in front of me, as if i'm on the outside, looking in. i feel that people depend on me. that somehow i am directly responsible in their well-being. this is represented no better than in the way many people refer to me. titles like "miss kitty" or "mama kat". growing up on a farm, i used to watch in amazement, mother hogs. all those wriggling, selfish, needy piglets, fighting over teats. sometimes she would be covered with their mass. there are times, when i empathize with her. this trait is even represented in my current job: as a caretaker for 2 adult mentally retarded women. sometimes, i feel overwhelmed by the needs people have of me.

in my entire life, aside from God, i think there have been only 3 that have appeared to know me. truly know me.

ironically, i thought of that while listening to the radio yesterday, on my way to pick up bella from school. the song by 3 doors down, the chorus "you love me, but you don't know who i am...so let me go" has great meaning to me at this point in my life.

that balance. that equality, is something i strive for, daily. that need to feel heard. understood. validated.to be A Part Of, tho i fight against that very thing with every fiber of my being.

i'm also, not all good. tho i am undeniably patient, i also have a dark temper, floating just under the surface, which is most often taken out on myself.

all of this has nothing to do with acutally delving into what i'm supposed to for therapy. which is why i logged on here in the first place. but i figure its a distraction at worst. at best, a start. a procrastinator always needs a logical explanation.

anyway. i knew i'd find it, if i hunted long enough. i'm not a pack rat, feeling the *urge to purge* seemingly every few months. what i do hang on to, are things in written form. books, notes, old emails.this particular email was written 4 years ago. march 12th, 2004. regarding a dream. a dream that matched a recurring dream i've had since childhood. and court shared this dream. for some reason, it was important i find this today. i kept it folded in my purse for over 2 years and would take it out from time to time, to read and re-read.which takes me right back to the "presence of a dark haired male and the significance of his connection with my life".

i think court is who that represents, tho we have no conventional kind of friendship, taking over 7 years to even put a voice with so many words. its been a saving grace, if you will. and i am grateful i've had that presence... that someone to talk to, about such deep life issues. i feel like, God meant that small, perhaps insignificant connection for a reason.

i could also argue thats one of my flaws....thinking, in and of itself. i'll admit i think entirely too much. that i live largely in my mind. i worry. i rationalize. i contemplate. its not a secret, i can keep myself up for hours on end, with all that thinking. but somehow, i feel as tho, maybe if i can just think enough, i might ultimately pull thru. i might discover, or redefine, who i am. where i'm going. i might recognize that woman in the mirror, after all this time.

i've not taken the time to do that until now. i've always felt the need to censor myself in some way, shape or form. but here, in this space, i don't feel judged and pushed in a corner. here, i cannot be misinterpreted. misrepresented. misunderstood. i can simply be.

and after all, isn't that one of the biggest obstacles in letting go?