mrtl

to mister mrtl

BFF BS

Oprah and Gayle
Got me reminiscing
Just a little
About an old friendship
The same kind
My old friend
My sister
My "other husband"
My "lesbian lover"
My underwear buyer
Who's no longer a friend
We met at 15
In drivers' ed
The teacher had us
Fill in a stranger's dots
On the class form
We became inseparable
We drove together...
The car
The teacher crazy
He called us sisters
We nicknamed each other
We bought each other gifts
Things that said "I love you"
She wrote poems
Really good ones
I envied them
I tried
I still suck
Best friends
For longer in life
Than not
But then.
Things changed
We changed
I loved
She loved
And lost
She said, "The next time,
I will take.
I won't give so much."
Little did I know
It was my friendship she meant
Things changed
I resented
Giving so much
With so little in return.
But history
Clinging to what was
It was years before
All added up
Some may say
I looked for a reason
Some stupid small thing
To use as a catalyst
To "break up"
I say it was the final straw
Enough
But I still have the pen
And you still have my heart
I think of you often
And miss
The old you
The old times
Before things changed

A Favorite Sound

Tonight while doing dishes, Bug occupied Jem with a game of "Put the Burp Cloth on the Baby," causing Jem to giggle like mad.

----

Things are good. I'm keeping busy with work and hanging out with the girls. Things are better in my altered state. The meds are affecting my appetite, so there's an added bonus of weight loss. Maybe I'll do a bwopping update sometime.

Playing With the Mind

My first few days on drugs have been exceptional. I was reminded of the mrtl of long ago, the one who annoyed mister mrtl by not being able to stop, not being able to just sit down and relax, who always had to be doing something. I've been stagnant for so long I've forgotten that side of myself. Thing is, I did sit down and relax with him, too. For example, we watched an episode of "Magnum, P.I." that had Ian McShane in it. HA! (There are two, you know. We'll have to keep an eye out for the other one.)

Want to know what I did this weekend? Laundry (washed, dried, folded, and put away), dishes... the standard faire. But I also (finally, and amazingly enough) got out the hammer, first to get mister mrtl to hang up Grandma's spice rack in the kitchen and then to get Bug's walls decorated while she was out with her Daddy today. I also took showers and did the hair -- not the usual air dry/scruffy ponytail look I've been sporting for months now. Go me! This as well as hanging out, enjoying the kids, making sure we were all fed and happy (when mister mrtl was asleep, that is). A productive. happy. weekend.

I'm hoping the medication isn't making me delusional. I weighed myself the other night and got a number that I wasn't expecting. Numbers don't matter, but they are disturbing when they're higher... or much lower... than the last. It appeared that I had lost four pounds overnight, then 2 1/2 more pounds a couple minutes later. Mister mrtl burst the bubble by telling me it matters where the scale is in the bathroom. Certain placees on the floor weigh heavier. He thinks I should go with the highest number given. WhatEVER!

Bushwhacked

After listening confusedly to his news conference, trying so hard to understand what the hell he was trying to say, I was mighty amused to hear Bush utter forth the following words:

That's one way you keep the peace. You speak clearly and you mean what you say.

But George, I don't speak idiot.

----

More fun on tv today. This one courtesy of "The View," where Joy Behar shared some singles ads.

SHIVER ME TIMBERS
Ye scurvy seductresses! Long John is me name and I'm sailing the seven to find the X to bury me treasure in. If ye catch me drift.

I'll be snickering over that one for a while. Argh!

I prefer "Have a blessed day" to this one.

After waiting over an hour to be seen, the doctor made her apologies and began chatting with me about my situation. She advised that I try therapy and how to go about it (starting with this, I thought for a while that she wasn't going to consider giving me a prescription until I went that route). She attempted to empathize, but then completely blew it. She blew it so badly that I was tempted to tell her to go fuck herself, beeyotch. She told me that she had gone through the same thing after her daughter was born... but she "powered through it." I realize she didn't mean to offend, but as a professional, she shouldn't be saying shit like that; it can be and was totally taken the wrong way. I mean, doesn't she realize I already know I'm weak? I had told her that I've been in this rut for at least two months now. Do ya think I'd be asking for medical intervention if I thought I could "power through it"? Gah! I told her that maybe I'd be able to "power through it" if it were only affecting me, but it's affecting my family, too, and that's not ok.

::tangent to fuck "powering through it"::
My impetus to write this the other day had to do with something that happened Saturday morning with Bug. It all started with a plan to go to Walmart. Bug had really been looking forward to this trip.

::fuzzy pink change purse tangent::
Bug loves those kiddie rides, you know the ones that take a couple quarters to make the bus/truck/car/whatev go back and forth? Loves.them. So much that I felt inspired to find her a change purse to hold some quarters for such occasions. We found one at Walmart -- where else?? -- that was blue and fuzzy. While my parents were here I managed to slam the back gate of the van on it, breaking the clasp. Mom Mom and Pop Pop made the Walmart rounds...

::Mom Mom Walmart tangent::
My mother is a Walmart fiend. There are several Walmarts in her area, and she'll go to each one, sometimes in search of something in particular and sometimes not. A long time ago I found a license plate cover that read, "I'd rather be shopping at Walmart," that I was going to sneak onto my brother's car as a joke. After ditching that plan -- he had an alarm, -- I gave it to my mother. I don't think she put it on her car, though.
::end Mom Mom Walmart tangent::

...and found a replacement change purse. It was the same one but pink. Actually they bought two, just in case something should happen to the first one. They filled it with quarters before they left. Bug loves counting her coins and going to Walmart to ride Clifford the Big Red Dog, to Fred Meyer to ride the jeep, or to the BX to ride the spaceship, leepo (police) car, lellow car or ice cream truck. Every time I tell her we need to stop at the store, the first thing she asks is if she can take her change purse in and ride one of the above (yes, she knows what store has what ride).
::end fuzzy pink change purse tangent::

Yeah, procrastinating the story.

Saturday morning was going really well. We had eaten breakfast, we (Bug, Jem and I) were all in good spirits, and Bug and I were readying to leave. I fixed up her hair, but she didn't like it. She pulled one ponytail out. The thought of redoing it overwhelmed me. (Mind you, it would only have taken a minute, but that's a long time to someone working at a level of minimal effort.) Before I knew it, I told her we weren't going because she did that. She was upset and I felt like shit; it was absolutely ridiculous to say that and I knew it then. After a few minutes of calming down and berating myself silently, I pulled her close for a hug, fixed her hair, apologized for being so grumpy and tried to assure her that it wasn't her fault but mine.

Yeah. Not ok. It was a wake up call for me that I could no longer deny that I need or delay asking for help.
::end tangent to fuck "powering through it"::

Thus begins the waiting. The doctor said it takes a couple weeks to figure out if the meds are right for me. In the meantime, I'll work the therapist angle.

"For Teething Babies"

If I can use Boudreaux's Butt Paste on my lips, why not Anal-Ese on her gums?

Process

It's amazing how self-empowerment affects the spirit. For so long now I've played the powerless victim of my circumstances. Suck it up, mrtl. Shit is as it is. It's out of your hands.

This weekend I took control again, deciding to make the call to get the ball rolling. I did that this morning and have an appointment tomorrow. I thank all of you for your comments and e-mails (especially Andrea). Knowing that I have options lifted me more than I could have imagined. This weekend was great, relaxing even, despite being a four-day weekend involving two kids, a primarily sleeping husband (still on mids) and one day of work. We got out, played a lot and had a fun time. I didn't get much sleep, but I didn't miss it.

Cheers!

Bug in My Ear

Bug said the following things to me today:

1. "Momma, I broke your heart and put it in a cupcake holder." (Playing with playdoh after I made her a heart with a cookie cutter)
2. "You have hair on your butt, Mommy!" (Accompanying me to the bathroom)
3. "I love you." (Two random huggy moments)

feeling fuzzy

The bitten nails are always the first sign. Even before I realize there's a problem, I resort to my childhood vice. Mister mrtl notices, asks, and I insist that there's nothing wrong. I believe it, than am always surprised when it all hits. Denial.

This started well before Mary's visit at the beginning of May. I remember feeling overwhelmed as her visit approached, not because she is exhausting to be around -- she's absolutely lovely, -- but because it would mean that I'd be on stage for so long. Keeping it together for so many days, without mister mrtl since he was visiting his father in Wisconsin, put me in a panic. She was staying in the playroom, where the computer resides. How would I decompress?

The nails hardly survived that week.

Fortunately I thought to cut back my hours that week, planning to do some touristy stuff with her. I didn't know until well into the week that she felt uncomfortable driving other peoples' cars. We had a great time putzing around, but I felt bad that she missed out on doing some things because I wasn't willing to travel too far away from Anchorage (where Bug is in daycare) and because I didn't want to subject Jem to too long in the van at a time. Mary decided before she left that she will come back next year. Next year's visit will be much better planned.

There seem to be so many things triggering me right now. I can't put my finger on what my issue is, just that I don't seem to be a part of the equation anymore. When I have had time to myself, I've avoided going online. Not reading. Not writing. Not thinking... about me at least. Focusing on inconsequential things, most recently the drama surrounding Star Jones' departure from "The View." Like I care. Having two little ones also makes it very easy to ignore myself. I throw myself into their care, putting their needs first. Service with a smile. A recent visit from my parents provided yet another distraction.

I'd like to say that I've taken all this time away to figure things out. What the funk? I'm hesitant to say it's depression. I'm still getting up every morning. I'm getting work done, as well as the bare essentials around the house. It's nothing like last year when I was an emotional mess, lashing out. Now I've withdrawn. I'm not being a bitch to my husband, but he's worried that I seem so sad. I don't feel sad, though. I don't feel much at all... besides disconnected.

What I do know, and what is most exacerbating about all of this, is that I feel completely powerless in helping myself. I've tried medication before and couldn't stand how it made me feel. I went in incredibly stressed out because I was so unproductive and unable to focus on work. I came out not caring at all about being unproductive and unable to focus on work with a side of paranoia, knowing that I had things that I had to get done. I stopped taking the meds not just because of that, but also because we were preparing for Jem's conception; those meds were not recommended during pregnancy or breastfeeding. I'm breastfeeding now. Therapy? Meh. Forced to focus on myself when it's the last thing I want to do? Yeah, that's sure to make me perkier.

I could go on, but it's bedtime. Hopefully this post will get me thinking. Thinking is good.