Burlap Soul

Finally, the divine Miz Raven gets a design worthy of her beguiling good looks. Ironic, in that when I throw up this new look, the subject herself looks a little more like a spaced out alien. She had to have her teeth cleaned yesterday and unfortunately, got the gas. Even today, she's on antibiotics (for massive gingivitis) and still wobbling around a little goofy, a little pissed. Not to mention the fact that Ghost is pissing on every rug in the house as a warning statement to let us know that "something smells like the vet." Someday we will buy stock in Resolve and Febreze. In the meantime, we just continue to treat our scratch wounds with peroxide and do endless laundry. The things we do for our animals.

This will be the first time in 5 years that we get to resume The Halloween Madness, considering that we've lived in a 3rd floor condo during the interim. However this time, it's a different neighborhood, a different crowd, a different house with different scare potential. As far as our current neighbors are concerned, we are just the "quiet, nice newlyweds with the beagles." Hahahaaaa... just you wait, kiddies. Now that we have a house again, I'm rediscovering my love for Halloween Decor and this year will be no exception. I'm on the search for a large (but cheap) 3 foot gargoyle for our roof and we'll be pulling Norman's Mother out of storage soon.

Happy Halloween, everyone. I can't wait.

We have some sick animals in our house right now. Raven is on antibiotics/pain meds while recovering from a massive dental cleaning and some severe gingivitis. Today, we discovered that Bogey has a semi-serious skin infection that we cannot figure out. The vet is running test after test and we'll know more in another week. For now though, he's on antibiotics, cortisone shots, a special diet, and prescription shampoo. None of that seems to worry him or stop him from growing though. He is pushing 30 lbs at a mere 5 months. Combine that with his very distinctive bay, and we are seriously considering the possibility that he is part coonhound. We still love him though, just wish he came with an FSA.

If I were working, all of this would worry me in the normal motherly way, but not bother me. However, I am not and we are living on one income only. Our veterinary expenses seem to come in massive floods such as this, and when it does our bank account weeps. (Oh, and we're constantly fixing up an insanely damned damaged house. This does not help matters.) It's an odd conundrum to be in when your daily life is too busy for full-time work, but it is a full-time paycheck that you need. If only I could get paid for painting, sanding, ripping up carpet, medicating animals, training beagles, cooking, running errands, and photographing every minute of it - well, then I'd be rich, wouldn't I? Alas, I cannot. I'm considering trying to find a way to sell my photographs. I've decided that I'm just going to bite the bullet and be an artist, income be damned. I believe there is an interest, that something will happen, even if I'm not sure what that something is. I will find a way to pay the bills - there are jobs out there, I have a good resume, etc etc - but I cannot keep denying what I love to do for the sake of it "not being practical." What good is a degree in psychology if you can't acknowledge what makes you happy?

Meanwhile, we have decided that with five animals, pet insurance may definitely be the way to go. For some people, they worry about the health of their children. For us, our animals our those children and we're very happy with that life. Unfortunately, getting your pets insured is something that most employers just think is funny, so we continue to pay for it. It also worries me that all of our little furry ones are starting to get older. It hit me today that even though Guinness died at the early age of 6 (which was still a shock, as she was the "baby"), Raven and Ghost are still older and edging in on 9 years of age. Nine. I cannot believe that my little hyperactive black kitten is now almost nine years old. Raven was an I-feel-guilty-for-being-the-asshole-that-I-am gift from the Stalker Ex. Ironically, she hated him and made his life hell whenever he came to visit. Four months after that whole debacle started its slow messy ending, she walked over to a cat-paranoid J., eyed him up and down, sat in his lap and declared him "safe." Eight years later, we are married and she continues to sleep between us, stretching her paws out over J. in such a way as to say, "I tolerate you and like to play with you, but just remember, I am mommy's girl." She is my sidekick and my protector and to imagine that she is getting older brings a lump to my throat that I have to quickly push away.

I imagine you're wondering why I can wax poetic over such a silly thing as a cat, but I seem to be waxing poetic about a lot of things lately. It seems that turning 30, losing a 20-year friendship, getting married, buying a house, losing your virginity, quitting your first real job, and changing your relationship with your family members - all in one year - gives you a lot to think about. I don't know if that's why I haven't really been writing much of substance lately. It's as though I don't know where to begin, or worse yet, where it will end if I decide to jump off. I'm raw, I'm vulnerable, I'm open to possibility, I'm hoping for change, I'm the hottest contradiction this year. Still, I'm thoroughly enjoying my Newlywed Cocoon and fearing the day when it dissolves and throws me back out to the streets of daily life. So, in the meantime, just send a good vibe or two for my kitty, my puppy and my mental stability. Either way, I figure one of us will win.

I was going back through my 43 Things today for the first time in almost a year. I discovered that 13 of them are already done, with many others in progress. Amazing, how that works.

I feel as though I am at a major crossroads in my life. It's not that I am shedding old skin. Rather, I'm becoming stronger within my own. I'm taking care of me because I like me, not because I feel like I have to. I'm loving me because my husband loves me and if I didn't love myself, then that's disrespecting him, so why sabotage it? I'm loving my husband because I really like loving him. I'm loving who I am and chipping away at the phobias, fears and insecurities. If they're legitimate, then why? If not, let 'em go. I'm loving a life without draining, martyr-ish old friends and full of new mature ones. I'm loving a life where I choose not to put up with my family's shit. I'm loving having beagles instead of children and not feeling apologetic for it. Most of all, I'm just loving... and that is my favorite part.

Let's see how far we come, shall we?

Though I've watched from the sidelines and been envious for the past four years, I've decided to finally participate in Art Every Day Month with Leah this year. However, I am not a painter, I don't really draw well and I certainly don't have the necessary tools to sculpt. I do like creating mixed media and of course I am a photographer. I like creating what I call Photoshop Paintings, and I've done several projects this way and been very satisfied with the results. Then again, I'm also just as expressive with crayons and construction paper, so I'm open to see what comes about.

However, I'm throwing a little twist into this one. I'm afraid that if I do AEM right now, I am so single-minded you will simply see 30 pieces on the same subject (i.e. 30 photos of a beagle or our latest "home improvement project"). While this is fine for some projects, it is not especially challenging, nor does it really motivate me to push myself. And really, if art doesn't push me somewhere uncomfortable or new, then I have no use for it. Nothing personal, just my individual preference.

This is where you come in.

I need at least 20 words for inspiration. Leave me as many single words you like. It can be a noun, verb, adverb, exclamation, idea, philosophy, schema, etc etc. Whatever you like, give me something good and I will try to capture/interpret/include that in my artwork. I plan to use one of these "word inspirations" for at least 15 days of the AEM Month, the other 15 will be art of my own muse. I plan to pick and choose the ones that inspire me most, so suggest away and I will pick my favorites. Also, some artwork may use more than one word as it's inspiration, so the more suggestions the better.

On a technical note, if any artwork is "too personal," I will simply post it over at the photoblog. So if you don't have the password and would like it, just leave a comment or email me and I will pass it on to you. I am also seriously working on fixing the comment template so that you can leave comments here a little easier too. (But don't let the template goofiness stop you! Comment away! I'll still get them in email!)

This is big for me. I'm a little daunted, a lot excited. Suggest away, my friends. I think this could be fun for all of us.

Appetizer
If you were a dog, what breed would you be, and why?
Oh gee, let me think... a beagle! Following my zen, being loud, happy to do whatever tickles my fancy, loved and adored by all, master of the pity look, lover of nature walks and lazy days. Yep, that's me.

Soup
What does the color purple make you think of?
Royalty, intuition, creativity, moods.

Salad
Approximately how long does it take you to get ready each morning?
With makeup and good hair? About 45 minutes. Without? About 20.

Main Course
How many cousins do you have, and are you close to them?
Oh good god, I have completely lost count. Seriously, it's something like 45 at this point. My family breeds like guppies. Some of them are more like my brothers and sisters, others I've never really even met.

Dessert
Take your initials (first, middle, last) and come up with something else those letters could stand for. (Example: SFO = Sweet Funny Otter)
Um, let's say that ASZ are my initials (oooh, I'm an airport code!). Aloysius Saw Zebras... which you never know, maybe he did.

By the way, have you given me any words yet? Well then, get on it fools! I needs Teh Inspirationz!

Do you believe it? There's a legitimate real new entry over at the photoblog.

Surely that's sign of some sort of apocalypse? Eh, maybe not. It could just be a sign that I decided to dust it off and do it up right. Either way, drop by or leave me a comment if you'd like the password. Otherwise, enjoy.

Who is he? J.

How long have you been together? 7 years, 10 months

Dating/Engaged/Married? Married, finally. :-)

How old is your man? 34

What’s his middle name? Arthur (which I love)

You or him:

Who eats more? Carbs - me. Chocolate - him.

Who said “I love you” first? Him.

Who weighs more? Me.

Who sings better? Me.

Who’s older? Him.

Who’s smarter? Street smarts - me. Book smarts - him.

Whose temper is worse? Definitely mine.

Who does the laundry? Him since we bought this house (I can't carry the baskets downstairs because of my knee/hip injuries)

Who does the dishes? Him (because I draw the line at doing dishes and he is okay with that)

Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? Me

Whose feet are bigger? Actually, they're about the same. I'm a tall girl.

Whose hair is longer? Mine.

Who’s better with the computer? We're about even.

Who mows the lawn? Him

Who pays the bills? Him (more so now that I am unemployed)

Who cooks dinner? Most nights it's me but he cooks up good stuff too.

Lately I feel as though I am starting to slowly lose my mind. I have a degree in psychology, I know all the symptoms, I know that something is wrong with the wiring in my brain. I have not had a decent and thorough night's sleep in nearly 2 years and that is really just a rough estimate. When I have had a decent night's sleep, it has been a fluke that happened maybe once in a blue moon. I find that I look back on those mornings when I woke up rested and happy and I cry from longing when remembering the sheer relief I felt for those first few morning moments.

I have the most chaotic thoughts and dreams of anyone I know. I have dreams of just pure insanity with thousands of different paths and people and plots all happening to me at once. In nearly every dream, I am being constantly challenged and told that what I believed was wrong all along, or most often, I am being given no opinion or voice at all - things are just happening to me and I have no decision in my fate. I am often being thrown into situations that will knowingly give me panic attacks or hurt me - by other people that are always laughing, nonchalant about hurting me.

I know as an abuse survivor that it is normal to endure nightmares and chaotic dreams for the rest of your life, no matter how much healing you might have done. I seriously considered going into dream psychology for a while and have studied dream analysis in depth. I can also tell you that as an abuse survivor, the subconscious can hold a whole lot of shit that you didn't know you still had laying around.

Years ago, I began a little dream blog in order to write out my dreams and better understand them. I only wrote two entries in it. After writing down and analyzing my dreams more, I started to see patterns and then realized it wasn't the dreams I needed to analyze. It was my life.

I am an incredibly strong person and I have quite frankly busted my ass to even get to such a healthy point in my life. I have been through a lot, I have survived a lot, I have learned to accept myself and my life, I have positively changed the methods in which I deal with my past. I have spent the past 15 years of my life learning to live again.

I guess that's why this is so damned hard for me to admit.

I am still hurting. I am still damaged. I am still angry. I still feel guilty. I still feel like a failure.

......................................

Even in typing those last short five sentences, I've had to pause and cry and re-read and pause and cry some more. I've had to let it sink in, let the pain wake me up and allow it to re-center me. I know that reading that will continue to be difficult - only because it's true. I've spent most of my life being lied to or lying to others in order to hide my inner pain. For me, the day I learned to live my life with only blunt truth was the day I set myself free. Of course, it was also the day that I had to face up to all my faults and bad qualities and comprehend the truths that really happened to me. That has been and will probably always be a double-edged sword.

For so many victims of abuse, realizing that you are actually being abused is such a difficult thing because your brain is so twisted and warped that you believe everything is okay - it's you that's the problem. My senior year of high school was a time of incredible chaos and change in my life. But I remember the day that someone handed out "Child Abuse Awareness" pamphlets. I could tell you everything I was wearing that moment (my blue broom skirt and wedge shoes), where I was sitting (in the back of Algebra II ignoring the teacher because I couldn't understand math), and exactly what the weather was like (warm and spring-like, sun pouring in the window and warming my face and back) on the day I realized I was a victim of abuse. I read the pamphlet, recognized every symptom, every abuser profile, every horrible aspect of what I'd been through and my life was changed forever. The truth set me free and cursed me all at the same time. I realized that every mistake in the world was not actually my fault after all, but there was also not a damn thing I could do about it now that I was too old for anybody to change my circumstances.

For some, there is comfort in lies. For me, the truth has always been my best friend. However, it is this truth that I have struggled with for so long that is now haunting my dreams and yet again trying to wake me. It is telling me....

"You are hurting. You are not dealing with the things that still haunt you. You are avoiding the issues. You are afraid of rupturing the new healthy skin you have created. You are yet again becoming your own worst enemy. You are creating a new life and forging new friendships while not dealing with the problems and pain that still cling to you from the old ones. You are pushing yourself to move on without stopping to lift the old anchors. You have come through so much, but you are not done. You do not have to be consumed by the old pain, but you cannot ignore it anymore either. You are strong, you are wise, you are changed, but you are absolutely positively not done. Until you deal with that, I will continue to haunt you and you will continue to lose the sleep and happiness you have worked so hard to create."

I know I should probably see a therapist. I had an excellent counselor for most of my twenties and she truly changed my life, but she retired several years ago and I am hesitant to have to tell my life story to someone new. I know the looks I will get, the constant clarifications I will have to make ("Wait, which step-parent was this again?"), the requisite number of visits I will have to make before I feel comfortable enough to really cry and let myself hurt in front of someone. It's like throwing yourself back out into the world of serious relationships and dating after you've been comfortably single for a while. You know it's necessary for growth, but that doesn't mean it's not going to suck. I am also very reticent to take medication. I don't believe it truly fixes these root issues (especially abuse baggage), but rather just masks the problem.

I'm not sure exactly where to go from here. But I do know that when the slightest loss of control or criticism makes me curl into the fetal position and cry as though I am five again and someone is standing over me screaming about my failures, then well... it's time to dig that up, examine it, turn it into something positive, and let it go. If not, then I've gone through 30 years of hell and redemption only to learn nothing - and I just can't live with that.

However, this time around, what I do know is this: It is okay to seek help. It is okay to admit that it hurts more than you thought it could. It is okay to not be okay. It is also okay to be absolutely wonderful. It is okay to be strong. It is okay to be positive. Most of all though, I know that I am now strong enough to just trust myself - I will not hurt myself anymore because I finally value myself enough not to do so.

As a matter of fact, that is my one real truth.

I've just stumbled across the most amazing website and I have to say I love it. For those of you that have decided to have children, I congratulate and applaud you. However, for those that have decided to be childfree like myself, the world can be a very lonely place sometimes. I feel as though I have lost and will continue to lose friends as a result of my decision. Part of that makes me hurt and part of that just makes me sad.

However, it is nice to see that I am not alone in my decision. These people are not immature, misguided or uneducated. Rather, like me, they have just consulted themselves, their desires and their goals and decided that children just aren't in the cards. I don't know that I will always feel the way I do about parenthood, but it's nice to know that I won't immediately be alone if I decide to say no.