Monthly Archives: July 2009

home alone

I am working on a post that is a reply to a question by DragonflyMama, but I’m just. not. pleased. with. it. yet.

So I will not be posting it until it says what is true.

The parents have left town, taking the niece with them.  They are making their yearly trip to take her to see her under-involved father.  The good news is, I have the house to myself, and it feels like I’m freeeeeeeeeeeee!

I have realized, since they’ve been gone, that I get stuck in a rut with my family around, and I have a hard time doing what I want to do to get on the track I want to be on (i.e. job hunt, studying for my test, moving OUT).  Like quicksand it is, living there, sometimes.

So, their little trip comes at a good time.  This weekend, I’m probably going to visit some friends I haven’t seen in a few years, so that will be fun, too, and then I’ll still have a couple of days of the lovely alone when I get back.

In the meantime, I have been plowing through my own stuff, doing some hard emotional labor, and making some interesting realizations about my own (and my family’s) dysfunction.  I’ll talk about that when it’s more coherent.

X is still nucking-futs.  Looks like he’s willing to go down with the ship as long as he thinks it will hurt me.  I guess.  Who knows, really?  People have asked me why he’s doing certain things.  The good news is I don’t have to answer for him anymore.  As if I ever did, really.


show and tell: my kind of therapy

The  rest of the class is in group therapy session over at Mel’s.  See what they’re up to why don’t you

Something I’ve noticed around the blogosphere, in my life, and around the world in general, is that lots of us are in need of therapy, and good therapy is in short supply.  Well, I believe I have found a solution for many of you out there.  This particular solution is somewhat radical , but I have found that it really works for me.  Your own experience may vary, depending, of course, on the therapist, I suppose.  Good therapists of this type are not as hard to find as good traditional therapists may be.  In addition, these kinds of therapists are easier to discern off the bat if they are right for you or not than traditional therapists.

This type of therapy does take a willingness to let down one’s guard, so to speak, and allow the therapist to do what they do best…




Small Poster


There’s also this (you won’t regret it!).

little by little

In thinking about this post, I kept coming back to this certain image from a song I really like, and I really wanted to use this image to explain what I wanted to say.  One problem is that the song is not in English, another problem is that the only online translation I found doesn’t do a literal translation of the one line I wanted it to, but we can deal, right?

The song is “D.ime Que No” by Ricardo A.rjona.  The line I was thinking of is “dame esa sí como cuentagotas,” which literally means “give me that yes by an eyedropper,” but more figuratively (and how it makes more sense), “tell me yes little by little.”

The thing about this image that I like is the idea of the little by little, the bit by bit, the thing that can be so implausible, so unacceptable (this is me here, not the song) at one time can be perfectly acceptable later, or at least manageable, and the difference comes not in giant bursts, but little by little, bit by bit, drip by drip by drop by drop.

(Granted, I’ve taken this one image from the song and gone way into left field with it, but this is the way my mind works sometimes…ok, a lot.)

I remember back when I first had to see the fertility “specialist” at my ob/gyn’s way back in 2007.  I have PCOS, and in the initial stages of the infertility war that X and I fought, that’s “all” we thought we were dealing with.  Little did we know what was to come–severe male factor infertility, fibroids that would prevent our doing IVF (due to the insurance not covering the surgery–long story), other factors that would keep putting roadblocks in our path, one after another after another.*

I remember coming home after my HSG (yes, I went alone–stupid) and talking to my friend Cherry, who happened to have just gotten there for a visit, and to X.  Both of them were a little taken aback by how totally demoralized I was by the whole thing, and this was way at the beginning, and my doctor had been very hopeful, but I felt like I had been cut off at the knees.  (Now I know why, of course, is because I was holding on a little too hard to the idea of the magical pregnancy and the magical baby to make everything better.  Then, I just knew I was cut off at the knees.)

If you had told me then, in that moment, at the beginning, how long a path it would be, and that, in fact, I would not actually end up having any children with Mr. X, well, I don’t know what I would have done, but it wouldn’t have been good, and it wouldn’t have been healthy, and I might actually have just gone crazy.  But the truth came little by little, drop by drop (though at times it felt like a tsunami), and here I am today, certainly better and healthier than I was at that agonizing post-HSG moment.

Today I found out some X-related stuff that even a month ago I think would have had me scrambling and anxious and freaked the fuck out, not to mention bawling like one of those babies that I don’t have.  If I had found out this stuff two or three months ago?  Hell, the shaking probably would have started up again, and who knows when it would have stopped.

But I found it out today, after many, many, many days of bit by bit by bit of learning who he really is, so when I found out that he hasn’t been paying the mortgage since I left (though he has plenty of money to pay it ), I wasn’t so shocked.**  And I had already come to terms with the fact that there are so many things that are out of my control, and this in particular is one of them.  So I’m not freaked, which is strange for me, if you know me at all, but I like it and could really get used to this mode of interacting with the world.

But I probably shouldn’t have laughed at the customer service rep when she told me.

*Of course, now I see all of this as one of the greatest things that ever happened to me, and I do not say that lightly.  I cannot imagine trying to deal with him right now with a baby/child.  I probably wouldn’t have left, but that’s another post or ten.

**Well, either that, or the fact that I had just had one of Frank’s cookies to soothe my soul before finding all of this out.  Personally, I’m thinking they’re better than anti-anxiety meds.

show and tell: the vacay pics

This week, I would like to show you where I was LAST week.  I wrote a bit about it already, but didn’t show any photos, yet, because, well, I was saving them for show and tell. 🙂  Join the rest of the class over at Mel’s.

I went to a small island just off of C.ancun (just a short ferry ride away) called Isl.a Mu.jeres.  IMG_1167I I would highly, highly recommend it for rest and relaxation.  IMG_1126It’s not quite so party-centric that Ca.ncun appeared to be.  People were lovely, beaches were lovely, what more could you ask for?IMG_1088

Honest Scrap

We take a break from our normally scheduled angstiness for a brief ICLW breather.  Not to worry, regular-readers, I’ll be back to the parsing of my past before ICLWeek is up, I can hardly resist. 🙂  In the meantime…

Jendeis nominated me for this, or awarded me with it, or whatever the proper nomenclature is.  🙂  The rules are:

1. Choose a minimum of 7 blogs you find brilliant in content or design.

2. Show the 7 winners’ names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they have won the Honest Scrap award.  My winners are:

Geek By Marriage


a fifth season

Conceive This!

My Pathway to Motherhood

Learning to Accept My Infertility


3. List at least 10 honest things about yourself

So here goes:

1)  I already did this meme.  On my old, defunct blog.  I’m not sure if that “counts” or not (or who would be doing the counting?), but this is my second-go round the scrap-mobile.

2)  I am at a much higher weight than when I lived in Mexico before (where I just went on vacation last week).  I felt much more comfortable walking around as I did not attract the same degree of male attention as I did when I lived there 10+ years ago.  That male gaze can be so…distressing to me.  And I definitely did not miss the catcalls.

3) I am a strong introvert and really need my alone time.

4) I still have more mig.raines than I should, but they are back to their old number of “normal for me” vs. every single day, which was what was happening before the Great Escape.  Amazing what not being verbally abused will do for the body, hmm?

5) I just found out I’m a “9” on the En.neagram.  I’m really fascinated by it and could get really into it, but I’ve got a number of things I’m working on (see: my issues, my angst, getting my shit together) as well as a couple of books I’m already working through, though I think this Enn.eagram stuff could also be helpful in a self-actualizing sense.

6) I’ve known for a long time that I’m an INFJ in the My.ers-Bri.ggs personality typing.  Actually I used to think I was an “e” for extravert, but that is total baloney.

7) If you couldn’t tell from the last two items, I am really into what makes people tick, be it their innate personality, experiences they have had, traumas that have happened to them, etc.  Probably because I’m a 9.  And an INFJ.  Ha.

8) I am trying to stay far, far away from the Tw.ilight books, mostly because they have been likened to “crack” by several people I know.  A friend of mine wrote on f.acebook that she wished she could just open up a vein and mainline them.  Yeah.  I’m trying not to fall into that hole right now.

9) I graduated summa cum laude from my university.  I think I had my self worth a little too wrapped up in my g.p.a. at that point, but, whatever.

10)  I never really know when I’m going to be hit by the baby-lust.  Most of the time now I’m ok, but every once in a while, WHAM!  And then it’s like, I want to kidnap your children.  Well, maybe not YOUR children, but definitely the mom sitting next to me in the li-berry who can’t seem to take two seconds for a gentle word for her kid, but sure can jerk his arm around pretty rough and make sure his vocabulary is complete starting with all the four-letter words.  Sigh.

my motivation

So I talked about my trip and how it helped to focus me, helped to give me some direction.  I also mentioned that it wasn’t the only thing going on to help motivate me to get my butt in gear, that helped me in the week before the trip to do so much to get my shit together.  So here it is.

I am really ready to move out of my parents’ house.

First of all, I want to say up front about how I have mixed feelings about saying any of this, even anonymously, because, well, they’re my folks, and I love them, and you know how they took me in when everything fell apart.  My mom drove two days to get me and turned around and we drove two days back two her house when I left X.  No questions asked.  And I knew she would do it, no questions asked.  And they have been absolutely phenomenal about giving me space to get my head together, and giving me free room and board, no time limits imposed.  And I really can’t imagine where else I would have felt more comfortable in those early days, though there were other places I could have gone, other people who would have taken me in.


They are really wonderful people who have not dealt with some significant emotional issues from their own childhoods, and the consequences of their not dealing with their own shit has been passed on to me and my sisters.  It is also very, very, very, very, very, very hard for me to watch them raise my eleven-year-old niece and see them passing on the same things all over again.  It kills me.

*Clarification: There is NOTHING to call child protective services about.*

Part of the reason it kills me is because I am working on my own “significant emotional issues from my childhood,” (currently working through this book) and when I hear them make certain statements (“you shouldn’t feel X!”, for example, or brushing aside legitimate pain that my niece has–like about her absent father) it brings me right back to when I was her age or younger and I was told I shouldn’t feel certain things and my legitimate pain was brushed aside.  Now that I am an adult, I can see why they do it.  Now that I know more about their own stories, and understand about what their parents did and didn’t do for them, I understand why they function this way in the world.  But it still hurts, and it is still very hard to live with, and it is very painful to live with every day.

P.S.  I will talk another day about why I don’t say something to them.  This is enough for today, I think.

perfect moment monday: mexico lindo y querido

I was away most of last week.  My friend, Cherry, convinced me to go, and when I say convinced, I mean CONVINCED.  I had many good reasons not to go on vacation at this time, the best of which–I HAVE NO JOB.  But Cherry’s logic was, well, what better time to go?  If I had a job, I probably wouldn’t be able to get time off, and so…

I felt like I was mostly going to keep her company, so that she wouldn’t have to make a trip alone.  Of course, I also wanted to see her.  I had wanted to see her before I made my Great Escape (she lives about three hours from where I lived with X), but then things moved so quickly and that didn’t happen.

We talked about meeting halfway, meeting where I am, meeting where she is, etc., etc.  But this vacation (which was just theoretical for several weeks) felt like a favor I was doing Cherry, and part of me really was hoping that it would fall through.


Until someone Cherry knew in her neck of the wood suggested Ca.ncun, and it was like the sun came out from behind the clouds, the angel choir started singing, and I started getting into the idea of a vacation.

Cherry had to go to a professional conference and we really needed to get on the ball about planning this trip, so I got on the interwebs and started looking up package deals for C.ancun, and started seeing information for Isl.a Mu.jeres, which is just a ferry ride away.  I remembered hearing about this lovely island, back when I lived in Mexico (my junior year in college), and something was telling me this was the place to go.  We found a good deal (flight and hotel), and off we went.

So what is the perfect?  Well, first, Cherry in her wisdom, knew I needed this.  I needed to get away, to get out of my parents’ house, to have things shaken up a little.  Somehow just having this event on the calendar, instead of an endless sea of indistinguishable days served to motivate me better than anything else had, and the week before I left I had my most productive week yet (hence the spotty posting) in the whole “getting my shit together” arena.  Suddenly time was divided into “before the trip” and “after the trip.”  I got a focus (not only because of the trip, but that’s for another post) and direction, and I feel like things were going somewhere.

What else was the perfect?  Well, Mexico.  As I mentioned, I lived in Mexico for about a year when I was in college, and going back was…amazing.  It was reviving to reconnect with that part of me, to speak Spanish everyday, to remember that part of my life from so long before I even heard the name of Mr. X.

More perfect?  Being with my amazing friend, who knows me so well.  We talked and talked and listened and were quiet and talked some more.

Still more perfect?  The last day, I woke up early, ready to come home, ready to come back to my life.


Find more celebrations of the perfection in the mundane here.

(photos to come in this week’s Show & Tell)