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Passions in Poetry

The Serenity Garden (journal part II)

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GG
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since 12-03-2002
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Lost in thought


575 posted 08-22-2004 12:48 AM       View Profile for GG   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GG

I know it means nothing,
but
I'm sorry...



Yeah, uhm,
life sucks.
(I usually remember that at about the third funeral of each year. Around the same time that I remember how ironic it is that they're the ones that died and I'm still here.)

Oh well, though... right?
yeah.

Hang in there.

serenity blaze
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576 posted 08-22-2004 12:57 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Thanks GG for the sentiment.

I didn't intend to illicit sympathy--the primary feeling I've got going on here is confusion, actually.

*shaking my head*

and so many people are going through so much right now, and there's so much to worry about in the "bigger picture" that I have to wonder if this is just new to me--maybe I just started paying attention, yanno?

But thank you. I think I'll go read on the other side of the room for a while.

Adds a little spice to my life to do something different.

nite folks.
Martie
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577 posted 08-22-2004 01:09 AM       View Profile for Martie   Email Martie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Martie's Home Page   View IP for Martie

I love you all...I'm still here ....just so filled up, and the words are still feelings...one day they will be words ...I know you all understand that.  
serenity blaze
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578 posted 08-22-2004 03:45 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

It looks like another no-sleeper again.

Hugs, Martie, 'cause I know you know and I wish you didn't.

GG
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Lost in thought


579 posted 08-22-2004 04:17 AM       View Profile for GG   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for GG

I know. I never say anything because people want me to. Only because I want to. Same reason writing is so great.
Anyyyway.

Why would anyone sleep if, instead, you could uhh not sleep!

I think we need a blood-shot eye smiley!
serenity blaze
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580 posted 08-22-2004 07:03 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

hey you! Wasn't expecting anybody to reply this early.

I'm glad you're here tho. Yer good company. While I was over there staring at the pages of a book and definitely not reading, (and certainly not sleeping) I got to thinking.

I got to thinking that this journal was never really about my feelings in the present time, and that every time I did own up to some actual emotion of the day, I felt embarrassed. So I asked myself

"How come, Karen?"

(I talk to myself alot. I even talk out loud while I type THIS stuff. I happen to be whispering now.)

Well my answer (partly) was that I was afraid of appearances. The present, being unresolved, only frustrates me (and my good hearted friends) because of the apparent sameness of the situation.

"You never take my advice!" Grin. We've all said it. We've all done it. We've all grown deaf to even our dearest friends and family who seem to make the same mistakes over and over. The fact that I haved bitched and moaned about the same situation for four years now is an embarrassment to me. So I just try not to talk about it. Then...I explode. That's even more embarrassing.

There's also the fact that stories are more entertaining, even the sad ones, when they are done. I can say damned near anything about stuff that happened years ago, and there's always the silver lining of "Ah, but you survived!" And of course, my stories aren't just mine--there's also the problem of tact when sharing tales of the present. I mean, um, there are other people involved.

So talking about the past allows me to share without running into all of the difficulties listed above. But I also realize, that it ain't exactly honest. I mean, there are people of understanding who knew immediately that my stories are my own little art of distraction. (Thank god/dess they have been kind too.) I realize that I show myself nekkid here more than I care to admit to myself, and if I don't own up to it it's because I may go back to sticking my head in the proverbial sand, which leads me to the next portion of the conversation that I had with myself.

"Karen," I said to me, "you are depressed. This is not just a rough spot, you're properly clinically depressed."

"Yes," I agreed with me. "But don't tell anybody." (I even joke around with myself.)

"You think they don't know?" I snorted at me.

I sighed.

"It's like being stuck in quicksand."

Now I started playing therapist with myself,

"And what's that like?"

So...I looked it up just now.
http://science.howstuffworks.com/quicksand2.htm

(Told ya'll, I like things to make sense.)

This cheered me right the hell up. No kidding. It's not as bad as I thought.

If you read the info in the link, the first thing I'm supposed to do is NOT PANIC.

(I've really gotta work on that part--anxiety sucks and all that accompanying thrashing just creates a vaccum, nod, pulling me in deeper.)

I cope with frightening things by knowing as much as I can about them. So actually, just understanding my metaphor has already started to help.

so, okay. The next thing they say to do is to relax and float.

Yay!

I've had some experience in that. This, I can do. And no, no, folks, not the old standby of flotation devices either. I've been weened off the painpills prescribed after surgery and the cap is firmly ON the fifth of whiskey. I do understand that pouring myself a huge glass of depressant is like grabbing onto a stone and holding it while I sink. So yes, for now, for today, there's no stones. Grin. (Sometimes I amuse myself with my own allusions--er, obviously)

Slow movements are recommended. Good. That's about all I can handle. "Try spreading your arms and legs far apart" (more experience there)"and leaning over to increase your surface area"

Increase my surface area? *frown* Not quite what I had in mind, but hey, I can always decrease it later, right?

("Shut up and keep thinking happy thoughts, Karen.")

"As long as you keep a cool head in the situation, the worst result will be a shoe full of wet sand."

Whew.

Now for all of you who are wondering why I don't just scream for a shrink to throw me a stick and pull me out like in the movies? Well, this ain't the movies--and my insurance covers ONE.

Oh, yes, I have a GP who could (and has) write anti-depressants, but I happened to have been previously diagnosed with bi-polar disorder, and that stuff only increases my despair. And good people, we are all unique creatures, with very different chemicals floating around in our gravity bags, so don't assume what I do for myself is advice for YOU. It ain't.

Thanks for listening to my experiment of sharing the actual "here and now" with you all. Now back to the part of the thread where I was happy--

Kari? Thank you for the kind comment regarding my brother. I don't know how lucky he was to have me, though.

It was a mutual connection we shared, and I think I can finally admit to how deep the grief and loss actually go. It's a rare and beautiful thing to make that spirit connection with anybody--and I am fortunately blessed to have made that connection many times over, with people in the flesh and my screen people here at Pip.

I believe we all start feeling disconnected from "the source" at birth because we are literally disconnected from the moment the umbilical cord is cut. I believe that every addiction is a misguided attempt to imitate the comfort of the womb.

I've come to the conclusion that it ain't going to happen, either. (I called my mom and asked, she said, "no".)

I guess growing up is accepting that.

There is a story in Buddhism regarding Buddha meditating under the Boda tree, fasting, and praying for enlightment.

I believe he finally got up and ate. Flesh is like a baby--if you want to get any rest, tend to it first, and then you can tend to yourself.

So there's my newfound, momentary wisdom folks. It's a fleeting thing, so don't quiz me on it later.

Love to all, with hugs.

(I've got "mail.")

Smile.

Sunshine
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Listening to every heart


581 posted 08-22-2004 07:20 AM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

quote:
...and I am fortunately blessed to have made that connection many times over, with people in the flesh and my screen people here at Pip.


I just pinched me'self.  OW!  I seem pretty real to me, but after reading all of the above, who says I'm not a figment of someone's imagination after all?  

You're a good read for 6:00 a.m. CST, especially with a cup of creamy coffee.  [When I come to visit, CoffeeMate or equivalent is a must - but I'll go to the store to get it because I'll put you out of it within three days time.  I buy in bulk... ]

It use to be, concerning our being here versus the alternative, that I've told my mother-in-law, bless her heart, that "you're not done teaching yet, Mom..."  She got HER start in a one room school house, as did her mother, as did she in later becoming a teacher and providing education to others, and as did her son... [and that brings to mind yet another story...for later]

...but with the passing of yet another of hers, this time a sister-in-law, only two years younger than she, she is pretty much fed up to HERE...and in watching her, feeling with her, I finally realized what the problem is.

Everyone's at the party, but her.

Those of her "age" are few.  She has one remaining sister-in-law...and the next "friend" of the community is six years her junior.  After that, her friends are at least ten years her junior, or more.

She wants her invitation. She's pretty well convinced she's earned it.  So I've gone beyond telling her that she still has some teaching to do.

Now I tell her that her invitation will come, soon enough, then give her a kiss, and a hug, and listen to the stories that I haven't yet tired of.  I just wish I could get her to allow me to bring the tape recorder, for comments such as "that just pulls straws!"

And some thought just entered my head.  You see, my Mom passed away on my mother-in-law's birthday.  Mom's invitation will probably come on MY birthday.

Things happen like that.  And for some reason, it just seems to me that not only will it be quite right, but also quite possible.  I think we're in for a very long, white, cold winter.

Sunshine
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582 posted 08-22-2004 08:03 AM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

Serenity, I promised you a little surprise when you woke up.  Well, you see, and as you know, I love to share, and I’m not wealthy, so I share what I can.

So I share a lot of smiles…

Mom comes up with a lot of old sayings.  A few that come to mind is her comment about any fellow talking overly much…”his talking is about as good as a fart in a lamp…”…”you’re got to watch the front ‘n the back of ‘em…” and oh, there’s several more…

Below is the 2002 dedication of Mom’s old school house.  Her mother went to this school in 1896; Mom attended in 1916; her son attended this school house in the late 40’s.  In 1992, they moved the school house from it’s location out in the country, and Mom was interviewed at that time [front page] with a photo of the house being transported down the country lanes.  She was the only surviving teacher.  By 2002, it was ready for a dedication out at the Flywheels Museum.

She is flanked by her son Carroll, and Kansas Representative Carol Beggs.  The “teacher” is a former student and re-enactor; and what items you see on the wall, etc., are some of the things that Mom has donated over time, photos, playbills of students’ shows, the clock, etc.  Mom has also donated several of her original teacher’s books and other articles.



They are still working on the school house, but yes, there’s even the old pump from which the kids got their water, and an old school bell.  Mom would arrive at 7:00 a.m. in her Model T to get the wood/coal burning stove going, and she recalls often her distaste of going down into the cellar “where the snakes held up over winter”.

She’s been instrumental in telling [when asked] what should go where, as she is the only person left who can tell them which side of the school the outhouse should be placed, and where the ball games were played, and at what spot the grass should be dirt, “because the girls liked to jump rope.”



The ladies flanking Mom were, yes, her former students…

Two years later, again at the Flywheels Museum, but in their meeting room, we held Mom’s 95th birthday party.  Being November, we were pretty fortunate that the weather was mild, and the turn-out was great, with over 100 people showing up – mostly sons and daughters of the folks Mom once taught, with their kids in tow.  Nothing like showing off a face that can still throw a smile…



It has only been the past six months that Mom has acquiesced to using a walker to get to and from her weekly hair appointments.  Yes, we have a wheelchair for her to get around in, but she insists that’s for “later”.

She is one fortunate woman to still be able to live in her own house.  I would guess that she has “company” at least five times a week.  We don’t count, we’re family, but over at her place every day.  With a smile like hers, who would want to stay away?
serenity blaze
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583 posted 08-22-2004 08:42 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Tell your mother I said she has exceptionally beautiful skin. (It's easy to see where you get your grace from Kari!)

Thanks for sharing her with us. I think we write best when we write about the best parts of us, and yes, that's the love of our family and friends.

(and I'm gonna try "sleep" again, but I swear, the neighbors have a rooster!)



At least we're moving. But then? Mike's a rooster too. With a HARLEY.

Sheesh.





Thanks again, Sunshine!
serenity blaze
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584 posted 08-22-2004 10:39 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze



"sigh"
Janet Marie
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since 01-22-2000
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585 posted 08-22-2004 10:41 AM       View Profile for Janet Marie   Email Janet Marie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Janet Marie

KA....
As always we are in sync...
Im up to me eyeballs in bubble wrap and boxes...digging thru things...what to keep what to move to the new house--what to throw away... and then there is those 3 boxes of vinyl that I have lugged the last 2 moves... most have been replaced on CD but how can I get rid of all my Jackson???

Anyway... so I dig out a few randomly and while packing listen to the oldies....
one song really got to me...then I take a break and come in here and read your two overnight posts about "why" ...
As you already know...I too need things to make sense, to have reason...and ask why...


and how many times have I typed to you (while I was talking aloud to myself)
"why ask why" ... moth creedo baby....


*sigh*....

anyway...If I get started here on all that your 2 posts opened up...I'll be loaded on that moving truck in this chair.

But what I want to say to you is you MAKE MORE SENSE than you ever give yourself credit for... and its these posts where you are "talking aloud to yourself that you almost always answer your own questions with your lovely honesty and self exploration...and I gotta tell ya--your "quick sand" metaphor is damned brilliant...

and yep...our wise and gentle poet Capt is so right...all too often we are looking for answers when there isnt really questions...

Sometimes things just are.......

When I used to get overwhelmed with the WHYS...needing REASON...Vante used to tell me...

"whys are full of things that can not be undone...if we spend too much time on the whys, we lose focus on finding solutions of how to move beyond them ...

whys are the past...

why not is the the real question...
those answers will be what takes us forward."

(butterfly wisdom)

"whys are full of things that can not be undone

amazing......*sigh*

And... so now I come back to the song that linked all this in my small mothy mind..
(there really is reason to my rambling) lol

" We have old friends, some are memories...
Somtimes they tap us on the shoulder, taking us to the places that we miss and remember with a smile ...

We go where there is love whenever we are lonely...and when going back we find, enough love stayed behind to make us feel at home....


"Where There Is Love"
Jane Oliver
from "Stay the Night"

serenity blaze
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586 posted 08-22-2004 01:01 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

Jan? Keep the vinyls.

They are old friends.

I am soooooooooo happy for you, and rather tickled with myself too.

Y'see? I just realized I've got some great friends.

Happy Home!
muted
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587 posted 08-22-2004 01:11 PM       View Profile for muted   Email muted   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for muted

*sometimes you ladies make toooo much sense*
and im left to nodding
breathing deep
*sighing*
and admitting to
just how much ive yet to learn.

and, then, i realize
we are connected
because you walked the path before me
but left enough space
for me to stumble too along the way

i admire you all here in this journal
strength
means failing
admiting your faults
discovering how to overcome them
sharing this with us
and
having the patience to watch us fall
and being there to pick us up again.

amazing
each of you
*sigh*

ok, i go back to being muted agian.


Martie
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588 posted 08-22-2004 02:09 PM       View Profile for Martie   Email Martie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Martie's Home Page   View IP for Martie

Karilea

Thank you for sharing your mother-in-love photos. She has the most beautiful face....you can see right into her blessed spirit through those eyes!
Mysteria
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589 posted 08-22-2004 02:47 PM       View Profile for Mysteria   Email Mysteria   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Mysteria

Karen, I sent you a book, check your email
Mysteria
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590 posted 08-22-2004 07:52 PM       View Profile for Mysteria   Email Mysteria   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Mysteria

  Well ... Serenity asked me to do this, blame her okay         I warn you this post is really LONG, and you won’t hurt my feelings by skipping over it trust me.

I sent this off to Karen and Janet Marie earlier today in email.  She asked me to post this as she felt it might be of some help to others who pop in here.  Well, I sure hope it is, if even in some small way.   I tend to bounce around a bit but have no time to edit it.  Well here goes…


“Dearest Karen,

A wise moth we both know once told me to go and read what I had just written in the forum because I had just answered my own question.  Maybe try to re-read what you wrote today and something may come to light for you too?  Actually I don't want her to take on any guilt here LOL, but since she said that to me I haven't been able to write much at all.  I am so blocked, because she was right you see, and now I am spending a lot of time thinking about that statement she made, and simply enjoying life and my surroundings in a new and brighter light.  She was right; the answer was always inside of me.  

Ron T is so right too, at least in regards to my life and me anyway.  I quite often make myself so busy trying to find the answers to questions that never even existed.  I know finally it was only a defense mechanism I had used among others to avoid whatever trigger sent me to a painful memory of my past and created a much-needed diversion.  See, keeping oneself busy takes our minds of the real issues, and most assuredly the painful ones, until next time.  Incidentally, writing it seems is a fabulous tool for the depressed, look at what writers suffered from depression sometime.

I remember being hurt by a remark Ron C once said to me, and it went something like this, that I tried to find solutions to problems that were not there to begin with.  He was of course right as usual.  It was part and parcel of that mental state I lived in that served me at that time.

As Karen and a few other close friends in here know I do not work anymore, and actually I have been receiving a nice disability cheque, and ingesting many prescribed medications over the course of about 12 years off and on, give or take.  The medications started when I almost died one day at a work while with employees on an outing.  They had to rush me to the nearest hospital, with what they thought was an aneurysm.  I refer to that the first time I  “shut-down”, and I actually quit talking, (quit chuckling you!).  Well, they attributed my silence to post traumatic stress syndrome, as I had been working long, hard hours, and had just lost my boss of over 14 years to a wicked cancer, and had not even had time to grieve that.  He was a dear friend only, although many thought different, and I confided and trusted him.  This incidentally was the only man in my life I ever trusted and still is, sorry.  I was his "day wife" as I did everything including sending the maid the list of what he would wear the next day, and organized his entire schedule for days and nights in close contact his wife, all his organizations, etc.  I managed all his personal investments, and he and I were the only ones really knew where his money was all hidden in total.  When he died, I had lawyers, family, companies, you name it pulling me this way that that for a listing of assets, and I got furious.  I wanted them to think of him, and not the business.  The anger was stuffed and life went on.  So, when he died I felt totally alone, and when I wound up the estate, it hit me.  I had no one to work for, no worth at all, and I was without purpose.  I am jumping around but that is how the accident started, but was not the cause I know now.  The hospital and doctors gave me some pills, made me rest to get the swelling to go down in my head, after the surgery, and sent me on my way home in 1 month’s time.  It turned out that particular death was just the icing on a huge cake I had stored in my mental freezer for years and years.  I am not about to go into its ingredients but I want to tell you about the defrosting process if I may?  

I was fortunate my entire life to have had some fabulous jobs, and a brilliant career not once but twice, and now here I was in a real state of affairs.  I had to quit a 6-figure job, and was reduced to a disability pension through work while they tried to get me over "the hump" as they called it. Some might think I was lucky I never ended up in any psychiatric ward, but in hindsight the process of defrosting my frozen cake could have been a lot faster, like sticking in a pot of boiling water, if they had put me there right off you know and thrown away the key for a while.  

Anyway, this started a journey of research by the medical profession of “chemical cocktails,” to cure me.  The insurance people and doctors kept trying to get the right ingredients to “fix” me, and get me back to work.  They found what they thought worked and sent me on my way finally a year or so later.

Well, I went back to work all right and to the same job title to find a different boss.  My old boss's wife!  Did I mention she was hooked on cocaine?  I felt I had no choice, I signed off with the insurance company so there I was in hell.  I literally ran that company for her that her husband and my previous boss and friend had put his heart and soul into, so it could at least stay afloat until it closed down with some dignity.  If he were alive he would have wanted the original investors, who were his friends, to at least see their investment returned before it went up her nose.  I covered her butt for at least 12 hours a day, literally becoming her for over a year and a half.  She would call in the middle of the night with a new hair-brained idea and wake me up to dictate it, so I went to work lots of times on no rest.  I prepared all her schedules, flight plans, did her work, wrote her speeches, that sort of thing while she played, and of course I was chosen to travel all over the place to watch her butt closely.  It was downright painful, bordering on anxiety attacks to watch her get through customs every time we went over the border I tell you.  The Board of Directors paid me extra for this travel, wasn’t that nice?  They also paid me a little extra for doing one more random thing for them as well, which I am now aware was legally way over the line of employer/employee relationships which they and I discussed at a future date.

Well one day, as per the usual random phone, I called to her to come for her random drug test, which she always cheated on, and the verbal abuse got out of hand as it always did.  I guess something in that cake defrosted, because I snapped yet again. To this very day, the only thing about that day I remember is going by the receptionist and saying, “I am going home and won’t be back.”  I vaguely remember her laughing and saying, “I don’t blame you!  Do you mean today or ever?”  I kept walking and I never went back.  I went home and did not come out of my own door for days  (not sure how many), nor did I answer the phone, or open the door.  Finally someone drove over and reached a family member, and said I was MIA from work.  I was told they called the Fire Department to get in (nice show for the neighbours) you betca.  I was taken to the local hospital, and I started the process of defrosting that cake I spoke about way back in paragraph one.  Told you this was a book; don’t say I did not warn you.  I co-operated this time, took the “crutch” temporarily and listened, and finally someone got through to me.  It was not the job, the wife, the situation, the time of day even, it was all about feelings, and I had none.  Somewhere along the line I discovered mine didn’t matter, so I stuffed them so deep inside they were nowhere to be found.  

Well, this is now a long time since that cake was defrosted, through getting proper help and treatment, which is the ONLY way.  As I said, I won’t go into the ingredients of what made my particular cake, as it doesn’t really matter what caused it anyway.  What do matter are the feelings about it.  However, there are a few things I do have to say about the process.  If you have shut away your feelings and memories your whole life for safety, don’t!  One day your secrets, false shame, rage, or guilt will come up and bite you in the ass so hard you won’t know what hit you.  It took mine over 40 years to catch up with me, and I fell big time when it did.  I thought my secrets were safely tucked away, and they were not.  They surfaced in everyday life in words, moments in time, visuals, or things I felt that reminded me of other times, and places, (they call these triggers.)  When they would surface, I would stuff them back down by either changing the subject (that is if I remembered what we were talking about,), getting busy, or head off to do anything wonderful so someone would notice how good I was at it.  It was like living on a double-edged sword every day of my life trust me.  In fact, those memories dominated my every move; making me an over-achiever in everything I did, an over-thinker, over-everything.  Whatever it took to take my mind away from the past I did, and no one likes someone who is always better than they are, so I kept people away really easily.

I owe my transition to you actually Karen, because it was about only two years ago you were open and honest with me about yourself.   I took from your experience, although way different than mine, here were two people so much alike in feelings.  I realized then through your honesty, that over the course of my lifetime how much time I had wasted being the victim instead of the victor.  So far, the only person I was fooling was myself, because at the end of the day, who do you have to answer to?  It was when I decided to get serious with those doctors that the healing started.  It took a special one from the University to break me, and I will be forever in his debt for putting up with one strong-willed woman.  I finally was diagnosed properly, got on the right medications, and finally can say that today I am better and darn near normal, whatever that is?  

Some obvious changes are that I can now “visit” the past and know it is the past, look forward to what future I have left, and certainly try to live in the present the best I know how.  I don't put expectations on anybody anymore and keep the ones on me more real.  I find doing that the disappointments are less too for them and for me.  I never really did judge anyone as to race, creed, etc, so that worked out the same.  I am quite thankful for some of the positive things I acquired along the way of being obsessive compulsive actually and kept them.  However, I don’t try so hard any more to please the masses, and even am slower.  The perfectionist is gone in me too, good thing because the new me is damn lazy sometimes and leaving dishes I found didn’t kill me after all.

(INSERTED)As Karen has so metaphorically stated as only she can do, I now spread my body weight out to friends for the very first time in my life to throw me a stick if I need it, and sometimes I do ask, and I found they are there to catch me too.  (A special wink to “Jeans” if she happens to read this.)  Those newly acquired friends include people I met right here in Passions.  You are very real to me.  I think I really only had one girlfriend in my entire life and she died, as you know, and the other friend was, my boss.  

There was always a great safety in letting no one close to me and now I have enough confidence in me to drop my safety net.  Some people from Passions have visited me, and I have visited them, so I think that reaching out is the answer to getting out of any quicksand Karen.  The actual day we learn to look inside for the answers instead of finding them outside, we will begin to heal.  Through that we discover we knew the answer all along.

I want you, and anyone that reads this to know that I would not advise doing what I have just done without a doctor’s guidance, but I finally got off of all my medications and am now trying to deal with my quicksand as it shows up.  At the time I needed help, and am now grateful I took it, for some it is permanent and for others temporary but leave the guessing to professionals.  

So thanks to you sweetie, I now am able to reach out from watching your example.  Don’t ever sell yourself short to me, as you are as I told you – my ultimate hero.  

Love Always,
The Canuck - Sharon
x o




Imagination is more important than knowledge...
Albert Einstein


[This message has been edited by Mysteria (08-22-2004 10:59 PM).]

serenity blaze
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591 posted 08-22-2004 08:25 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

thank you

I know that you labored over the "rightness" of posting this and it's right, shar, it's right.

Here:

"I am going home and won’t be back.”

That is exactly what a moment of lucidity says to the soul.



That is exactly the rhythm of echo of heartbeat that drives us.

Love YOU, canuck.

You have been my hero for quite awhile and maybe, just maybe, we recognized that "like" quality in each other.

I want what you have...

the peace at night of knowing you spend each moment of the day true to being you.



Mysteria
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592 posted 08-22-2004 08:29 PM       View Profile for Mysteria   Email Mysteria   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Mysteria

So I opened a page, not the book.  "Finding Sharon" is going to the big blockbuster movie one day, right after we finish that sitcom with the devine one.  One thing I did learn through this process was - If my insides are talking, I listen!  If a man tells me who he is, I listen to that too now, and if someone jumps in front of me in a check-out line, they must be in an awful damn hurry.  I also learned I can do without a lot of sleep too, enough time for that when I am dead!

Luv ya.
Sunshine
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593 posted 08-22-2004 08:33 PM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

I'm not quite sure what to say, Sharon, other than you wear your tiara very well...and you deserver it, too.  You're a very special person, and this indepth sharing will probably do most of us more good than you will ever imagine.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Sunshine
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594 posted 08-22-2004 08:44 PM       View Profile for Sunshine   Email Sunshine   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Sunshine's Home Page   View IP for Sunshine

Send me the tickets to Finding Sharon...I want front row seats.  
Martie
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595 posted 08-22-2004 09:14 PM       View Profile for Martie   Email Martie   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to visit Martie's Home Page   View IP for Martie

Sharon?     
iliana
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596 posted 08-23-2004 01:57 AM       View Profile for iliana   Email iliana   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for iliana

Sharon (and all) -- I came back to catch up a little and low and behold....what do I read....an exploding cake.  Sharon, I can't tell you how much your post meant to me, and I know Karilea can identify with what I'm going to tell you.  In 1984, I "ran" to Houston, TX, after the end of a marriage I still have some trouble talking about; I'll say that it was...mentally abusive, at the least.  I was living with my mother and without going too much into family details, felt very alienated to everyone and everybody.  My brother and sister-in-law being catholic and not believing in divorce, just one example.  Anyway, I basically lost my life with that divorce, except for my little girl.  When I had a job offer to work for an attorney in Houston which paid double what I was making in the law firm in Ohio, I jumped at the chance.  A chance to get a life again.  I packed my little girl along with as many toys, clothes, cooking utensils, bedding, records, books....as much as I could get into our little Escort and took off to Houston.  I started work the Monday after I arrived (on a Friday) because my boss couldn't wait (and because I needed the income immediately, too).  I should have recognized at that very moment how aggressive and domineering my boss was.... I mean, I really should have asked for a couple more days to make sure I got my daughter into a good daycare and checked out my neighborhood a little more carefully.

Sharon, like you, I had a boss I was absolutely devoted to....for the first five years I worked for him (even though he was abusive and harsh at times which I just attributed to being a lawyer), and yes I did his laundry, cleaned his apartment when he had a heavy date, baby sat his illegitimate son when the mother came for a visit to work out financial details, etc., etc., etc.  A day wife, yes, exactly.  He was generous with gifts, lunches, and smiles when he needed to use them....and I did just fine for that first five years.  I had gotten myself back on my feet.  My relationship with my daughter was good...she was well adjusted despite my working 7 days a week (many times taking her to the office with me in the evening and weekends -- I've often told her that she was raised on the floor of that law firm).  Five years, yes, I get off track, too.  Five years, things were okay; then, my boss' drinking problems got worse.  Much worse.  His personality became one of Jekyll & Hyde.  This I recognized right away (because of my ex-husband) and it didn't take me long to find out the truth....yes, cocaine!  To make a long story short, he had a fit when I remarried and his habit got worse and worse.  I covered for more and more, and took more and more abuse.  For some strange reason I felt I owed him...'cuz he had "saved" me from the horrible existence in Ohio.  When I remarried and began to have a life again, my eyes started opening.  So when my husband was offered a transfer to Indonesia, we took it.  Three years later when we returned to Houston...I called to ask for a letter of referral.  He said he would not give me one nor would he give me a reference, but he would give me a job paying my leaving salary plus $20K more a year if I would come back to work for him.  Trapped and desparate because my husband was jobless at the time, I agreed.  By this time, all my old work mates hated my guts...my work family was no longer my family...I was being back stabbed at every turn.  So, I asked him to transfer me to a couple of young associate attorneys ... anybody but X & Y.  He, of course, transferred me to X & Y.  Six months later after constant overtime and attempting to tame their impossble egos and watching one of these two demonstrate on a daily basis in front of my desk, while giving me instructions, the perfect commercial for the real need of a jock itch powder....I was fed up.  I kept asking my husband if I could please quit.  Of course, his answer was we can't afford it.  He did not want me to work for anyone else and to this day I think I resent that.  So I lasted another six months.  But one weekend, when the one with the jock itch problem called me at home Sunday afternoon, and asked if I could come in after missing the past Friday due to flu, I erupted.  Yep the cake exploded with no warning whatsoever.  I told him I would not come in that day or ever again.  Just like you, Sharon.  I did not even consult my husband.  I just did it.  I unplugged the phone for three weeks and sat and stewed.  It took me a full six months to pull myself together enough to go find something else.  And it took much experimenting until I settled in for any long term stays.  It was not until I worked for the last attorney I will ever work for... that I began to realize what abuse does to people.  I had been really injured and didn't even realize it until several years after.  It was this last boss who helped me figure it out and, of course, I love him for it.  He helped me enough emotionally that I was able to go on to a career in legal journalism and now own my own small business.....so NO MORE BOSSES!!! See, Sharon.....how much I can identify with what you wrote. Thank you for sharing it here...I love you for it.   ...jo

Thanks, Karen, for just being you.  And that goes for all you other folks, too.  

[This message has been edited by iliana (08-23-2004 03:04 AM).]

iliana
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597 posted 08-23-2004 02:10 AM       View Profile for iliana   Email iliana   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for iliana

Karilea, you sure have a special mother-in-law.  What a rich history!

GG -- Hiya sweetheart....hope you're doing well tonight.  

Karen, I know what you mean about the whys.  

Mothy lady (may I call you that?), I really appreciated your post.  
iliana
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since 12-05-2003
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598 posted 08-23-2004 02:14 AM       View Profile for iliana   Email iliana   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for iliana

Hi, Martie....*hugs* your way.  Isn't this a wonderful place.  It makes me feel like I'm not alone.

Hey, Chris...you out there?
serenity blaze
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since 02-02-2000
Posts 28839


599 posted 08-23-2004 02:24 AM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

grin...this could be dangerous.

You ladies are starting to inspire....

(raising my hand timidly)

"y'think maybe me...??"



Damn ya'll are good.

YEAH.

Maybe ME!
 
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