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Home > Archive > Abuse recovery > December 2004 > Then again
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| Bipolar stuff. Past crunch time into little orange pill time. I hardly
ever resort to my little orange pills but ... ooooh...there is that
feeling, that calgon took me away feeling. It's not fair something
that makes me feel so much better is so bad for me.
Everyone is in bed but me. There are dozens of gifts under the tree.
Later, other people will creep out and place their own things for
everyone else, but for now, everything there is wrapped and placed by
me. The stockings are filled to the brim.
By me.
I've sweated every gift. I've juggled money to do the best I could for
everyone, beating myself up for everything I couldn't get them and
giggling at the things I could because I know how happy it will make
people. I've been delighted and stressed by every single purchase.
Every plan made.
I did most of the decorations myself. I made the Yule trimming out of
the branches of the trees I cut, candles anointed with my own oils,
whispered blessings for the health and happiness of our family. I
insisted we all get into the car and go see the rich houses
over-decorated each year, and I am the one who turned the Xmas music
on the car radio. I made sure we all sat together to listen to my
husband read 'Grinch'.
I even picked out each of the gifts my ex-husband will give to his
children.
I have tucked my children into their beds.
And now it's getting quiet - and I said something to my husband about
not going into our living room because I didn't want to see any
packages left for me under the tree. And he turns to me and says 'what
packages?' after he had finished placing his gifts to people out
there.
And you know, it crushed me.
It crushed me because I went to so much trouble for everyone else and
it feels a lot like no one went to any trouble for me.
A few things: I am almost certainly being stupid. It seems inevitable
that, after going to so much trouble for others, I am going to feel
left out and a little pissy. I don't know if it's natural, but it
happens. And I feel that way more than I should. After all, I LIKE
doing it for everyone else. It makes me happy - but there is also an
element of desperation to the effort. Like I am trying hard to cram
for a test I never finish taking.
I have far more resources than they do. I am the one who does the
shopping. I have more money than the kids, I have credit cards and I
have time. My kids can't get in a car and take off to get surprises
and my husband works too hard to really be able to do it. I know
better than he does what everyone has been screaming for all year, so
it is natural and right that I would know more and do more than anyone
else.
I also know that my husband will have gotten me something, I'm afraid
that he won't have thought much about what, though. After all, our
first Xmas together he gave me a table lamp and a calendar. I mean, NO
thought was put into that. I'm afraid I will have worked hard to make
him happy and he is going to make me feel like an afterthought.
On the other hand, he remembers to bring me something small on the
29th of every month, to mark the day of the month we were married.
So it is easy to remember than I am being whiny. I KNOW my oldest
sweated what she would give me. I love her for working so hard, but I
worry about her, too. I know what is waiting for her in that NEED to
make someone else happy, to bleed over it.
He would not have been deliberately cruel. I guess - it was the
casual way my husband said 'what packages?'. As if it never occurred
to him that it would matter to me. Not the material itself, but the
feeling that I mattered to someone enough that they thought about me.
And now I am afraid to go out there tomorrow morning. I'm afraid of
what I won't see and whether it will make it hard for me to be up for
everyone else so I don't ruin anything for the kids. Because I know a
lot of this is bipolar stuff, shitty tape loop stuff playing in the
back of my head, being ready to believe the most painful thing is the
most likely one. No, already believing, knowing the most painful thing
is the most likely.
And being afraid that it will turn out well, that I will have been
loved and remembered. It's easier to be forgotten; hopes hurts so much
more.
| |
|
|
|
| On Sat, 25 Dec 2004, it was written:
>Bipolar stuff. Past crunch time into little orange pill time. I hardly
>ever resort to my little orange pills but ... ooooh...there is that
>feeling, that calgon took me away feeling. It's not fair something
>that makes me feel so much better is so bad for me.
>
>Everyone is in bed but me. There are dozens of gifts under the tree.
>Later, other people will creep out and place their own things for
>everyone else, but for now, everything there is wrapped and placed by
>me. The stockings are filled to the brim.
>
>By me.
>
>I've sweated every gift. I've juggled money to do the best I could for
>everyone, beating myself up for everything I couldn't get them and
>giggling at the things I could because I know how happy it will make
>people. I've been delighted and stressed by every single purchase.
>Every plan made.
>
>I did most of the decorations myself. I made the Yule trimming out of
>the branches of the trees I cut, candles anointed with my own oils,
>whispered blessings for the health and happiness of our family. I
>insisted we all get into the car and go see the rich houses
>over-decorated each year, and I am the one who turned the Xmas music
>on the car radio. I made sure we all sat together to listen to my
>husband read 'Grinch'.
>
>I even picked out each of the gifts my ex-husband will give to his
>children.
>
>I have tucked my children into their beds.
>
>And now it's getting quiet - and I said something to my husband about
>not going into our living room because I didn't want to see any
>packages left for me under the tree. And he turns to me and says 'what
>packages?' after he had finished placing his gifts to people out
>there.
>
>And you know, it crushed me.
>
>It crushed me because I went to so much trouble for everyone else and
>it feels a lot like no one went to any trouble for me.
>
>A few things: I am almost certainly being stupid. It seems inevitable
>that, after going to so much trouble for others, I am going to feel
>left out and a little pissy. I don't know if it's natural, but it
>happens. And I feel that way more than I should. After all, I LIKE
>doing it for everyone else. It makes me happy - but there is also an
>element of desperation to the effort. Like I am trying hard to cram
>for a test I never finish taking.
it doesn't sound stupid to me. it sounds natural to want to feel part of
people's hearts, especially after you've expanded your heart for them to the
point that it's painful. that's the picture i get -- you expanded your
heart so much that there are huge gaping pockets of emptiness in there.
that would hurt.
>I have far more resources than they do. I am the one who does the
>shopping. I have more money than the kids, I have credit cards and I
>have time. My kids can't get in a car and take off to get surprises
>and my husband works too hard to really be able to do it. I know
>better than he does what everyone has been screaming for all year, so
>it is natural and right that I would know more and do more than anyone
>else.
but a gift from the heart from a child doesn't necessarily mean going out
and buying something. it could very well mean creating something just for
you.
we want our kids to have the experience of giving, as well as of getting.
so we generally give them a budget, if they don't have resources of their
own. but i'd actually rather have something of them, from them rather than
from a store. i'd rather have a picture. i'd rather have a coupon for
washing my car. something of that order.
>I also know that my husband will have gotten me something, I'm afraid
>that he won't have thought much about what, though. After all, our
>first Xmas together he gave me a table lamp and a calendar. I mean, NO
>thought was put into that. I'm afraid I will have worked hard to make
>him happy and he is going to make me feel like an afterthought.
>
>On the other hand, he remembers to bring me something small on the
>29th of every month, to mark the day of the month we were married.
so is there something in his history that makes this season somewhat
distasteful, so he just doesn't put as much effort into it as he does into
personally important days?
>So it is easy to remember than I am being whiny. I KNOW my oldest
>sweated what she would give me. I love her for working so hard, but I
>worry about her, too. I know what is waiting for her in that NEED to
>make someone else happy, to bleed over it.
>
>He would not have been deliberately cruel. I guess - it was the
>casual way my husband said 'what packages?'. As if it never occurred
>to him that it would matter to me. Not the material itself, but the
>feeling that I mattered to someone enough that they thought about me.
that's sad.
>And now I am afraid to go out there tomorrow morning. I'm afraid of
>what I won't see and whether it will make it hard for me to be up for
>everyone else so I don't ruin anything for the kids. Because I know a
>lot of this is bipolar stuff, shitty tape loop stuff playing in the
>back of my head, being ready to believe the most painful thing is the
>most likely one. No, already believing, knowing the most painful thing
>is the most likely.
>
>And being afraid that it will turn out well, that I will have been
>loved and remembered. It's easier to be forgotten; hopes hurts so much
>more.
i hope it's not as horrible as you're imagining.
and i do know that hope can hurt. eventually, i figured out that it can
also be worth it.
-- astri
| |
| Panther 2004-12-26, 7:06 pm |
|
Liz <welshwop@.net > wrote in message
news:009qs01vimgunm6mnivs86ciobp6r82qvj@4ax.com...
> Bipolar stuff. Past crunch time into little orange pill time. I hardly
> ever resort to my little orange pills but ... ooooh...there is that
> feeling, that calgon took me away feeling. It's not fair something
> that makes me feel so much better is so bad for me.
>
> Everyone is in bed but me. There are dozens of gifts under the tree.
> Later, other people will creep out and place their own things for
> everyone else, but for now, everything there is wrapped and placed by
> me. The stockings are filled to the brim.
>
> By me.
>
> I've sweated every gift. I've juggled money to do the best I could for
> everyone, beating myself up for everything I couldn't get them and
> giggling at the things I could because I know how happy it will make
> people. I've been delighted and stressed by every single purchase.
> Every plan made.
>
> I did most of the decorations myself. I made the Yule trimming out of
> the branches of the trees I cut, candles anointed with my own oils,
> whispered blessings for the health and happiness of our family. I
> insisted we all get into the car and go see the rich houses
> over-decorated each year, and I am the one who turned the Xmas music
> on the car radio. I made sure we all sat together to listen to my
> husband read 'Grinch'.
>
> I even picked out each of the gifts my ex-husband will give to his
> children.
>
> I have tucked my children into their beds.
>
> And now it's getting quiet - and I said something to my husband about
> not going into our living room because I didn't want to see any
> packages left for me under the tree. And he turns to me and says 'what
> packages?' after he had finished placing his gifts to people out
> there.
>
> And you know, it crushed me.
>
> It crushed me because I went to so much trouble for everyone else and
> it feels a lot like no one went to any trouble for me.
>
> A few things: I am almost certainly being stupid. It seems inevitable
> that, after going to so much trouble for others, I am going to feel
> left out and a little pissy. I don't know if it's natural, but it
> happens. And I feel that way more than I should. After all, I LIKE
> doing it for everyone else. It makes me happy - but there is also an
> element of desperation to the effort. Like I am trying hard to cram
> for a test I never finish taking.
>
> I have far more resources than they do. I am the one who does the
> shopping. I have more money than the kids, I have credit cards and I
> have time. My kids can't get in a car and take off to get surprises
> and my husband works too hard to really be able to do it. I know
> better than he does what everyone has been screaming for all year, so
> it is natural and right that I would know more and do more than anyone
> else.
>
> I also know that my husband will have gotten me something, I'm afraid
> that he won't have thought much about what, though. After all, our
> first Xmas together he gave me a table lamp and a calendar. I mean, NO
> thought was put into that. I'm afraid I will have worked hard to make
> him happy and he is going to make me feel like an afterthought.
>
> On the other hand, he remembers to bring me something small on the
> 29th of every month, to mark the day of the month we were married.
>
> So it is easy to remember than I am being whiny. I KNOW my oldest
> sweated what she would give me. I love her for working so hard, but I
> worry about her, too. I know what is waiting for her in that NEED to
> make someone else happy, to bleed over it.
>
> He would not have been deliberately cruel. I guess - it was the
> casual way my husband said 'what packages?'. As if it never occurred
> to him that it would matter to me. Not the material itself, but the
> feeling that I mattered to someone enough that they thought about me.
>
> And now I am afraid to go out there tomorrow morning. I'm afraid of
> what I won't see and whether it will make it hard for me to be up for
> everyone else so I don't ruin anything for the kids. Because I know a
> lot of this is bipolar stuff, shitty tape loop stuff playing in the
> back of my head, being ready to believe the most painful thing is the
> most likely one. No, already believing, knowing the most painful thing
> is the most likely.
>
> And being afraid that it will turn out well, that I will have been
> loved and remembered. It's easier to be forgotten; hopes hurts so much
> more.
I've been off line for a few days.
So how did it go?
Panther
| |
| George Cox 2004-12-26, 7:06 pm |
| Liz wrote:
>
> ... - and I said something to my husband about
> not going into our living room because I didn't want to see any
> packages left for me under the tree. And he turns to me and says 'what
> packages?' after he had finished placing his gifts to people out
> there.
>
> And you know, it crushed me.
>
> It crushed me because I went to so much trouble for everyone else and
> it feels a lot like no one went to any trouble for me.
....
Oh poor little you. Stop feeling so sorry for yourself you obnoxious
XXXXX.
| |
|
| Well, here we are, and it was all goofy crap. Bad bipolar minute.
Everything was fine.
Thank you guys, though.
>On Sat, 25 Dec 2004 09:13:28 GMT, sloopy <sloopy@asarian-host.net> wrote:
>X-No-Archive: Yes
>
>Liz <welshwop@.net > wrote:
>
>
>
>well,......it just won't be there tomorrow...
>
>I picked out all the scents that said Liz......all the meanings,
>magical workings, and things that say Liz....
>
>and the yule log...it's HEAVY.....so....it'll be on slow boat....
>but in time for next year
>
>
>cut yourself some slack....
>
>have fun with your family......and know that everything you did, that
>you do.....means something.....and will be forever implanted in their
>little brains...
>
>you're lucky.....very very lucky
>
>aunt deb
| |
|
|
Ooh, hey...thank you : )
Thank you for putting thought into it :}
On Sat, 25 Dec 2004 09:13:28 GMT, sloopy <sloopy@asarian-host.net>
wrote:
>X-No-Archive: Yes
>
>Liz <welshwop@.net > wrote:
>
>
>
>well,......it just won't be there tomorrow...
>
>I picked out all the scents that said Liz......all the meanings,
>magical workings, and things that say Liz....
>
>and the yule log...it's HEAVY.....so....it'll be on slow boat....
>but in time for next year
>
>
>cut yourself some slack....
>
>have fun with your family......and know that everything you did, that
>you do.....means something.....and will be forever implanted in their
>little brains...
>
>you're lucky.....very very lucky
>
>aunt deb
| |
|
|
| astri 2004-12-30, 11:06 am |
| On Sat, 25 Dec 2004, it was written:
>Bipolar stuff. Past crunch time into little orange pill time. I hardly
>ever resort to my little orange pills but ... ooooh...there is that
>feeling, that calgon took me away feeling. It's not fair something
>that makes me feel so much better is so bad for me.
>
>Everyone is in bed but me. There are dozens of gifts under the tree.
>Later, other people will creep out and place their own things for
>everyone else, but for now, everything there is wrapped and placed by
>me. The stockings are filled to the brim.
>
>By me.
>
>I've sweated every gift. I've juggled money to do the best I could for
>everyone, beating myself up for everything I couldn't get them and
>giggling at the things I could because I know how happy it will make
>people. I've been delighted and stressed by every single purchase.
>Every plan made.
>
>I did most of the decorations myself. I made the Yule trimming out of
>the branches of the trees I cut, candles anointed with my own oils,
>whispered blessings for the health and happiness of our family. I
>insisted we all get into the car and go see the rich houses
>over-decorated each year, and I am the one who turned the Xmas music
>on the car radio. I made sure we all sat together to listen to my
>husband read 'Grinch'.
>
>I even picked out each of the gifts my ex-husband will give to his
>children.
>
>I have tucked my children into their beds.
>
>And now it's getting quiet - and I said something to my husband about
>not going into our living room because I didn't want to see any
>packages left for me under the tree. And he turns to me and says 'what
>packages?' after he had finished placing his gifts to people out
>there.
>
>And you know, it crushed me.
>
>It crushed me because I went to so much trouble for everyone else and
>it feels a lot like no one went to any trouble for me.
>
>A few things: I am almost certainly being stupid. It seems inevitable
>that, after going to so much trouble for others, I am going to feel
>left out and a little pissy. I don't know if it's natural, but it
>happens. And I feel that way more than I should. After all, I LIKE
>doing it for everyone else. It makes me happy - but there is also an
>element of desperation to the effort. Like I am trying hard to cram
>for a test I never finish taking.
it doesn't sound stupid to me. it sounds natural to want to feel part of
people's hearts, especially after you've expanded your heart for them to the
point that it's painful. that's the picture i get -- you expanded your
heart so much that there are huge gaping pockets of emptiness in there.
that would hurt.
>I have far more resources than they do. I am the one who does the
>shopping. I have more money than the kids, I have credit cards and I
>have time. My kids can't get in a car and take off to get surprises
>and my husband works too hard to really be able to do it. I know
>better than he does what everyone has been screaming for all year, so
>it is natural and right that I would know more and do more than anyone
>else.
but a gift from the heart from a child doesn't necessarily mean going out
and buying something. it could very well mean creating something just for
you.
we want our kids to have the experience of giving, as well as of getting.
so we generally give them a budget, if they don't have resources of their
own. but i'd actually rather have something of them, from them rather than
from a store. i'd rather have a picture. i'd rather have a coupon for
washing my car. something of that order.
>I also know that my husband will have gotten me something, I'm afraid
>that he won't have thought much about what, though. After all, our
>first Xmas together he gave me a table lamp and a calendar. I mean, NO
>thought was put into that. I'm afraid I will have worked hard to make
>him happy and he is going to make me feel like an afterthought.
>
>On the other hand, he remembers to bring me something small on the
>29th of every month, to mark the day of the month we were married.
so is there something in his history that makes this season somewhat
distasteful, so he just doesn't put as much effort into it as he does into
personally important days?
>So it is easy to remember than I am being whiny. I KNOW my oldest
>sweated what she would give me. I love her for working so hard, but I
>worry about her, too. I know what is waiting for her in that NEED to
>make someone else happy, to bleed over it.
>
>He would not have been deliberately cruel. I guess - it was the
>casual way my husband said 'what packages?'. As if it never occurred
>to him that it would matter to me. Not the material itself, but the
>feeling that I mattered to someone enough that they thought about me.
that's sad.
>And now I am afraid to go out there tomorrow morning. I'm afraid of
>what I won't see and whether it will make it hard for me to be up for
>everyone else so I don't ruin anything for the kids. Because I know a
>lot of this is bipolar stuff, shitty tape loop stuff playing in the
>back of my head, being ready to believe the most painful thing is the
>most likely one. No, already believing, knowing the most painful thing
>is the most likely.
>
>And being afraid that it will turn out well, that I will have been
>loved and remembered. It's easier to be forgotten; hopes hurts so much
>more.
i hope it's not as horrible as you're imagining.
and i do know that hope can hurt. eventually, i figured out that it can
also be worth it.
-- astri
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