Family Fun (?)

I can't remember the last 4th of July I spent with my family... Maybe when my brother was a baby?

Somewhere between Christmas and Bartleby's death my sister stopped ignoring me and her husband (gasp) started emerging as a reasonably nice person. I have actually stopped calling him "the baby daddy" and started calling him my brother-in-law. Like, to his face and stuff. He also stopped calling my mother a bitch... and has been (gasp again) invited to my parents' house this afternoon. And it is reported that he might actually come.

So my dad will burn burgers and hot dogs (seriously, I was in my 20's before I realized you could grill without charring) and we will all play nice and swim with the babies.

It's weird how death changes things... the brother-in-law's dad died just before Bartleby... maybe a week before... and the combination of those two losses pushed my family back together in a way that we haven't been able to manage for at least the last three years or so. There are still issues, but everyone sort of reached out reflexively and met in the middle.

It's a good thing... I think. We can at least all start to heal together and move forward.

So happy 4th of July everyone! Don't blow your hand off with homemade explosives!

Better

Today I feel less fragile... less foggy.

Though last night was odd...
The doorbell rang at 9:30 and I got scared. "Fight or flight" scared. It was just a guy trying to sell newspaper subscriptions, but he was really pushy about it and I felt very alone and exposed. After he left I was jumpy and nervous about being alone in the house. (I know what at least one of you is thinking and no, I do not need a gun. For the love of sheep).

I also did some cleaning last night and found more of Bartleby's things. I don't know if I will keep any of them or not. I have decided to wait until Bean gets home and ask her if she wants anything. She has been really sentimental about him lately... I think my forgiveness theory has legs. I also feel (today anyway) that the man he was - the man who loved us - would be happy with the fact that we are starting to be happy now.
I am starting to forgive myself for letting it get so bad before I acted... and I am starting to feel more like myself than I have for a long time. I am also starting to loosen my grip on the idea that marrying him was the biggest mistake I ever made. Dismissing four years of my life as "total mistake" is not helpful.

I have been working half-days this week and sleeping in. I have had the most bizarre dreams - they are almost bad dreams, but not quite. It's like they could slip over and become unpleasant, but they manage to hold steady until I wake. And they include the strangest ties with reality.
In one of my dreams I was out to dinner with Lara and Shelly and Michelle and Sally and our server (a Kiersten, of course) took Lara's knitting bag. It was a small pink bag... one that I actually own, but I don't think Lara has one. The rest of the dream was me trying to get it back for her.
In another dream I was on an island somewhere with Michelle and Bean and a lot of people I didn't know and we were supposed to meet for dinner but I couldn't find the restaurant... I just kept walking up and down these streets and sometimes Bean was with me and sometimes she was with Michelle.

Analyze away... I'm just happy that neither of them starred Bartleby.

Tonight I have a hot date with some of my favorite women! It's going to be great fun - even though it is going to take place outside. (I don't like the outside).

Me-Row?

I keep having the same dream over and over and over. It's very unpleasant, so I will spare you the details, but it is about Bartleby and it is horrifying and it won't go away.
It also makes me not want to sleep.
At all.
I don't have the dream every night, but the threat of it - the possibility of it - is enough to keep me shaky.
So on very little sleep I feel fragile and easily spun. And incredibly needy. And insecure.
Needy like, "Hi, please spend lots of time with me so I don't have to be so alone!"
I actually like spending time alone.
Insecure like, "You love me, right? Tell me again. And again."
I am not this girl.

So I have been maybe a little withdrawn... and maybe a little quiet...
Because I don't want to overwhelm everyone around me with my neediness and insecurity.

Now I know how Sammie feels when I leave for a few days.
When I come home she is all over me and very insistent about the petting and scratching.
And she has this purring meow that sounds like "Me-Row?"
I think Me-Row means, "Oh my god you're back! Why did you leave your kitty alone for so long? Don't you know that I love you and need you to open the food bag and also scratch my ears?"
Eventually she realizes that I'm not going to leave and I do love her and she calms down.
So, Me-Row.
I'll be better in a few days.

Tired and Cranky

I went out of town this weekend... just to get away (again). There is something about escape that is appealing to me. Of course, when you get back, all the shit is still there and you still have to deal with it.
And I'm so tired.
Tired like I was on Friday. Tired like I jut can't deal with, you know, people.

I find that I have less patience with some situations... and I don't understand why people make things so difficult. Simple things. Everyday things. Isn't this world exhausting enough without adding extra steps? Extra requirements? Extra drama?

Bean is with her dad this week and I think that's probably a good thing. My arms and legs feel so heavy... the effort it takes to think about movement. I just don't have anything left. I am forcing myself to stay at work for another half hour and then I can go home. I know when I get there I am going to bed and I probably won't get up again until tomorrow.

I'm OK... just hiding a little.

Knit on!

Crazy Busy...

But mostly crazy.

Grief is hard. And also slippery.
Bean and I went to our final group meeting last night and it was harder than either of us expected. I think we are finally able to forgive him for being such an angry terrible force in our lives... and that makes it emotionally harder to bear.
It's so much easier to be angry than it is to be sad.
It's so much easier to be relieved that he's gone than it is to miss him.

I don't think I miss him, exactly... I think that I mourn the person that he was before, and I think I mourn the relationship that we were supposed to have - in the same way that I mourn the child we didn't have.
I am relieved that there is no child.
I am not relieved that he is dead, but I am relieved that he is no longer a threat to me. And just the fact that I would think about it like that - to know that he transformed so completely from the gentle, funny man who loved me into someone I would see as a threat - makes me unbearably sad.

I am doing well. Really well. Things are moving in positive directions in more or less every part of my life and most of that would have been impossible - or at least VERY difficult - with him around.

I feel lucky.
I feel blessed.

But sometimes I feel really sad - and sad feels appropriate. Sometimes I resist the things that I would ordinarily turn to for comfort because I feel like maybe I'm not supposed to be comforted. Maybe I'm supposed to just feel it and breathe through it.

Misc.

Two more pictures from my trip...






These are socks knitted from recycled newspaper.

And this is lace made from car parts.
Yup.
Lace.
Made from cars.


Just remember that when you start thinking that delicate and strong are opposites.


I had dinner with some friends last night and came home full of carbs and happiness.

And then went home and cleaned my kitchen. And I also scrubbed the kitchen floor.
(And I don't mean ANY of that euphemistically!!)
I don't know what forces are at work here, but they are scaring me.
There was something about the combination of bleach and lemon-scented Pine-Sol that kept me moving.

I got a call earlier this morning from the VA... I have "officially" been assigned to the Vet Center. I am excited about this placement and I am SOOOOO ready to do some actual work. things at my part-time job have gone from bad to worse... I'm trying to decide if I should work all the way through July or not.
I'm really ready to have my Sundays completely open.

I am also ready to go part time at the radio station. I can't do that for a few more months, but it will be so nice to only be working part time, going to school part time and working my 24 hours/week at my practicum. Ask me again in three months, but right now it seems like cake. Especially compared to what it was going to be: full time job, part time job, part time school and practicum. Ugh.

All work and no naps makes Naplover a grumpy girl.

I'm home!!

Quick post... more pictures tomorrow!!

I had a wonderful vacation, but it is so nice to be home.
I would have posted sooner, but the internets were down all over...

Both Marianne and Emilie made me feel so welcome and pampered that I wasn't sure if I would remember how to take care of myself... but I've done ok so far.

My back is a tangled mess (thank you, Greyhound) and while there were two ENTIRE days when my foot was the size and shape of a foot, it is now swollen and sore again.
Don't take the bus. Just don't.
It's like flying, but really slow and with really horrible people and also no snacks.
Emilie packed sandwiches for us before we left (thank you, thank you, thank you) and there were vending machines along the way. I finished an entire book - a long one even - on the way home.

Oh the books!! While in Bloomington I bought ten pounds of books, and also yarn and clothes. Lots of clothes. Miraculously I was able to fit it all in to my suitcase, but then my suitcase was 5 pounds over the weight limit, so I handed 5 pounds of books to Derek and he is going to mail them to me.

Other than books buying, I napped a lot and ate a lot and relaxed on the couch and knitted a lot. I did not finish the sweater for Grace, but I am past the halfway point, and she will have it in a few weeks.

Oh Grace. She is the sweetest baby. She reminds me of Bean at 2 - funny and sweet and smart and loving. Spending time with her filled my baby need for a few more months... surely someone else here is going to have a baby soon, right?

And Dharma... the first Daschund in my entire life who did not pee all over me! She only barked a little and was very sweet and lovely too.