How many layers can be peeled of your heart

My son is 27 but in my heart he will always seem a toddler. When this boy was born I feared I could not love him enough and yet what a love I felt. He wrapped himself around my heart as have all of my children. I felt so much a part of his life that I guess I never realized that he was moving away from me. Now that he is a man and life's issues have come between us it is like he doesn't remember the love. He has peeled a layer of my heart away and there is a continuous bleed that will never stop. I have memories of laughter and hugs. I have memories of worries and fears. I have memories of a closeness that has gone away. I have memories but memories aren't enough. I don't want to be his life but to be part of his life and his memories. It seems the only memories of me that he has now are sour ones. Does he ever think of the good ones. Does he remember making me laugh until I cried? Does he remember me rubbing his back and tickling his arms as a child? Does he remember needing me just to be there? Being a parent is very hard, being a parent to someone with unreasonable expectations of what a parent is will break your heart. I will cherish my memories of this middle child and pray that his good memories of me are still there somewhere.

who do i ask for help?

I sit alone and I weep. What is it that you weep for you ask? That is just the thing, I can not even begin to tell you. Oh I could start and then the words will get tangled in my thoughts making me sound as crazy as I feel. There are so many tiny things beating at my conscience that it all takes on the form of a darkness that I can't escape. I try to stay busy or stay still; yet the darkness is there. It is like a shadow just behind or in front whispering that nothing can be done. It will go wrong anyway. Run, don't run, stay, don't stay, pretend, face the facts. I feel like a character with two or more faces whose head is just going around and around only stopping briefly on any one feeling. A tornado of emotion swirling around in my head always. Ideas of what life is supposed to be, a vision of what life could be, a dissatisfaction of what life is. Yet no real plan for life at all. It is all a fairy-tale of my own making with way to many sub-plots and possible endings. Uncomfortable with being boxed in I still long for a black and white plan to follow. An instruction book on life if you may, a black and white proof of what is wrong and what is right. No gray areas, those gray areas are what makes my head spin. Is all this unhappiness a result of circumstances, health issues, guilt feeling, a cold dose of reality or as Scrooge said a bit of bad meat that has interrupted my digestion causing these hallucinations of my life falling apart? I kind of know deep down that I am my own worst enemy. I have unrealistic expectations without the backbone to make those expectations come about. Why can't I express myself to the ones I love? Why is it the thought of trying to make my feelings clear to someone only brings visions of their blank stares. Those looks that make me cringe and look inward upon myself, wondering why I am bothering people with these things.

Maybe a list of my unrealistic thoughts would help. Wishes as you may.

A. I wish I had confidence and pride in who I am.

B. I wish for harmony within my family, for I alway felt that we could withstand anything as long as we had each other.

C. I wish I could forgive myself for my humanity even if others cannot.

D. I wish for laughter and craziness of the good sort, the kind that makes you feel renewed.

E. I wish for an eagerness for life.

F. I wish to be comfortable enough in my inner self to not worry about the outer shell.

G. I wish to feel like someone gets me and to actually understand or to be able to convey the understanding of that fact.

H. I desperately wish for good lives for my children even if it isn't my definition of a good life.

I. I wish for the energy to move forward in life and to want it to be a long life.

J. I wish that something I do in life has some kind of positive effect somewhere somehow.

K. I wish to get the ambition to make some of my dreams come true.

L. I wish to come to a place in life where my family swarms around me and there is joy.

M. I wish to shed this shadow of darkness.

N. I wish to be Jackie and have it matter but not too much.

O. I wish to believe there will be something more after death but I am not sure anymore.

P. I wish to be more than I am.

Q. I wish to be okay if this is all I am.

on being alone

Sometimes I feel better when I am alone. I don't mean not being in a relationship, I mean alone. Sometimes when I am alone and don't have to communicate with other human beings a smile will come unbidden to my face. When I am walking down a street or doing my art or reading thoughts fly in and out of my head. I observe the way the tree branches look against a cloudy sky, a bird taking wing, the different colors of fall blending in such a wonderful dance. When I am doing my art I just let happen what wants to but sometimes fret when and idea is there but won't take shape. If I just let go of the idea and let anything happen it is more relaxing. When I am reading I can immerse myself in the story or just be on the fringe of it while connecting it to my life in some way. When I am doing all of these things alone I can let go of the anxiety that has entered my brain. But yet even as I do these things alone a part of my brain insists on wanting to share these things with others. A part of my brain wants to be part of a whole. Yet when that part of my brain activates the anxiety starts to come back to plague me. I doubt if I will ever feel like what I think, feel or care about can possibly be of importance to others. This is not the fault of others, it is all me.

When you deny things are in a mess

It is amazing how we go through life in a constant sense of denial. Things aren't right and we just pretend not to notice or just don't speak of it. Every once in a while thoughts and words slip out but we turn our backs on them with great dexterity. The next day comes along and we are once again in pretend mode. The life we thought we had probably never really existed anyway. It was probably just a side effect of the attraction that struck like lightning. After all there had to be a justification to take away the possibility of things being wrong. So a life together was created and so the fiction began. Not that we want it to be fiction, we both probably want it to be real more than anything. But if it were real than how have we gotten to this place of denial? Of just being on the edge of a life. Two people together but not. Afraid to be alone , not knowing how to be together. The tear drops not shed, the words unsaid, the feelings denied, the days lost to the pretense. When will the other shoe drop? Are we just slightly of course with the hope of going around and around until we end up back on the track? Is it the beginning of the end or the end of a beginning? Maybe we just keep moving even if it feels like it is getting us nowhere.

being awake

It is 1:10 a.m. and here I am on the computer. I went to bed very very early because my head hurt. In fact I had barely been up twelve hours when I went to bed. I wasn't so much as tired as unable to figure out what to do with myself with this pain in my head. It is on the left side this time which is unusual and involves my ear. I probably have an ear infection or something but allergy pills and pain pills are not helping. Sometimes I feel like there is a gremlin inside of me trying to get out. I feel like this manifests itself in the various pains I feel on a daily basis. When doesn't my neck hurt? How often do I feel pain free? Actually of late, there hasn't been one moment when I don't feel some sort of pain. Mostly I constantly feel like a complainer talking about being in pain. After all it isn't a pain that causes me to not function at all. It isn't a pain that makes me scream. It isn't pain that I would rate a ten. It is just this constant nag, nag, nag of discomfort. So most times I want to cry or sleep. Unfortunately these things also cause me discomfort. I am sitting here writing this because I am afraid to go back to bed and sleep for two hour intervals. I am afraid that the pain pills I have just taken will not work and the pain in my head will just get worse by morning. Mostly I am almost always afraid. Afraid that nothing will ever feel right again. So I will finish eating my cereal, didn't want to take pills on an empty stomach you know. Then I will finish up here and then I guess I will go back to bed.

Nothing in particular

Today is November first in the year 2010. Oh my I must remember to flip the page of the calender. I am sitting just doing a bit of nothing and decided to write about nothing in particular. Of course nothing in particular might be something very important. Who can ever tell.

My day started with doing nothing much, just watching a movie and then watching more of nothing in particular until my head did protest. I thought about retreating from the pain in my head by going back to sleep and then thought better of it. Thus, I showered and proceeded to let some light in this darkness that I dwell in. No that is not a metaphor, this place actually is usually very dark like a cave. How odd that a lover of light ended up in this place. So for the moment what light mother nature and the power of electricity can offer me is being utilized. There is music playing and I have started some mundane chores that relentlessly call to me. However I am also doing nothing in particular. Just flitting from this to that, possibly accomplishing something in the process and trying not to worry if nothing is actually accomplished. Why is it so hard to just be or do without worrying about an end result? This is a question I struggle with a lot. Well I guess I will get back to doing nothing in particular and see what happens, if anything.

Narcissism

I find that within all this depression and self-pity I am a bit of a narcissist. I am constantly perusing my writings here in my blog. I am not sure if it is to check that I am not writing stupid stuff or if I need to reassure myself that I am not half-bad at this. No one else seems to read my writings which I can understand so I read them myself. Maybe I am still looking for that glimmer of me that I can identify with. I do the same thing with my sketches, checking them out and revisiting them to confirm that yes I was the one that did them. It always boils down to constantly reconfirming my own identity as I seem to have lost the ability to hold on to my sense of self.

Getting Caught Up In Your Own Cycle Of Self-Pity

So I feel miserable. Why must that be the only thing I can focus on? Is it like an addiction? Do I actually like feeling this way or does it just make it easier not to make an effort at anything. Oh I can't do this or I can't go there. I am just not up to it the way I am feeling. This goes on inside my head all of the time. Am I over-thinking everything, am I making the feelings or lack thereof more than they actually are? Do I really feel isolated or am I making myself isolated? I really can't answer any of these things but would like to be back to my own semblance of normal. I keep telling myself, snap out of it, but that doesn't help. It is just too easy to curl up and wallow. Sometimes I would like to ask people to tell me who they think I am or how I should be. Maybe I would recognize a glimmer of my real self in one of the descriptions. Then again, maybe I don't really want to know my real self.

Realization of ones own simplicity

So, I decided to read a few blogs before writing another bit of trivial nonsense and came to the realization that I am a very simple person. People write about religion, the economy, the environment and I write about feelings and random thoughts. I try to give my attention to these blogs but it resembles reading textbooks in school. I never was very good at that, having to read and reread to get the information into my head. Does this make me a useless piece of flotsam in this world? Actually, sometimes when I become aware of the amazing volume of lives on this planet this is a feeling that arises. What am I but a bit of driftwood on the huge ocean of life. Just floating hither and yon wherever circumstances push me. Of possible use but one might never know unless noticed and retrieved for use of some kind. Hmmmm.

The Littlest Bird

Small in size

Swift of wing

Never at rest

Does it ever sing

A streak in the sky

Was it there at all

At the edge of your eye

Give your friends a call

Go ahead and spread the word

You're sure you saw a hummingbird

The Evil One

Her name is Laura McFeeny

Because of her I'm a meanie

When I am acting not so very nice

It's because of her awful advice

I really don't want to be a meanie

Go away you awful McFeeny

The Day Was Cloudy

When the skies aren't blue

does it make you blue too

Do the clouds make you sad

you know that's too bad

Just stop to think for a bit

sometimes a cloudy day

is just the right fit

The temperature is a tad lower

giving respite to leaf and to flower

The sun will return very soon

possibly even before noon

I will enjoy the day as it is

even if the sun gives us a miss

A cloudy day sometimes brings inspiration

feeling lost and unappreciated

Her name is Hattie McCall

She hasn't any children at all

Her name once was Jackie Reeder

trying to be there when her children

did need her

One day she woke to a thought

That all she had tried

was for naught

The children she loved and cared for

Didn't really see her anymore

Oh they'd take

whatever she had to offer

They deserved it, after all

she was their mother

They'd let her worry and be

full of fear

They'd listen to her thoughts

yet not really hear

If one day they realized

she was no longer there

She wonders if they would

really care

In her mind there is Hattie McCall

The woman who has no children at all

Life Changes

We are together you and I

by choice and by chance

We've grown apart it seems to be

not noticed at first glance

The things we did that made us smile

haven't the same effect at all

It might be me, it might be you

we might be up against a wall

Do we give up on this life together

going in our separate ways

Do we smile and just pretend

somehow getting through the day

We should talk about this feeling

and try to make it go away

Find a way back to our hearts

save this love, what do you say

the kingdom of i don't care

there is a kingdom of i don't care

it really exists everywhere

in the kingdom of i don't care

there is no sympathy anywhere

you aren't feeling very well

no sympathy no matter who you tell

you think you might be losing your mind

no sympathy of any kind

the dog is sick

they don't give a lick

you're worried about this or that

they don't really have time to chat

everyday seems a day to dread

no one hears a word you've said

in the kingdom of i don't care

there is no sympathy anywhere

I think I am a bit narcisist

She has arisen to start her day. With so many things she wants and needs to do she will most likely procrastinate and do little. She sits momentarily in front of the computer trying to retrieve photos from the camera memory card. The last transfer from the camera left photos behind. This happens often and she does not understand. She checks the finished operation and sees success. A good sign maybe, who knows. She had a restless night's sleep with varied and unusual dreams. Dreams about a discussion on brushing your teeth and how it is a time when your emotions break through. Dreams about getting everyone to shut up so her view could be heard where she was Monica? from Friends but was also shutting Monica up. Dreams about parties and drunks and babies and traveling over mountains and water. Dreams about strength contests and possibly Willie Nelson? Dreams about orange juice made with milk. A confusing kaleidoscope of images that somehow were real at the time. She is awed and frightened by dreams. She will not pursue the thoughts of them for it strains her mind. She must get back to the photo issue and then do some of the many things on the days to do list. Maybe it should be a to maybe to do list. Ahh, a funny. Ha-ha.

It doesn't seem to want to get warm

The skies are gray today. She is tired of wearing her wool coat, but it was only 39 degrees this morning. They say it won't warm much today and will most likely rain. The rain is welcome she thinks; for her bulbs need the moisture. There is possibility of spring snow; not a welcome event , yet not surprising. She waits to go meet her son this morning as he will be accompanying her on her ride. This breaks up her normal routine which is good but also intrusive.. As she has sat at her corner today listening to the bustle of the establishment; she is quite happy she does not work here. There is a supervisor that is like a little gestapo hen. She is quite sure this person does her job with efficiency but she is a bit scary. Thus the gladness at not working here. Unfortunately her time at her corner table was marred a bit by the tones heard coming from this tiny gestapo-like woman. Thus goes her morning so far.

The strange thoughts I think

A man gets out of a blue pick-up wearing a suit and bow tie. She wonders why. Then she thinks; there is a media event today about the riggie-fest. Hmmm..... The riggie-fest is tomorrow. It could be fun but it is all the way in Utica. Yes, she knows that isn't far but some people would disagree. No matter. The weather is supposed to be nice tomorrow so she will probably spend the whole day outside. She will be happy then; that is if she feels better. It would not be good to spend her days off not feeling well. Randomness coming up!!! Yesterday she stopped in a consignment shop near her work. It has just started so there was not much there. Still she spent six dollars she shouldn't have. The thought of bringing her stuff there to sell entered her mind. She isn't sure if she wants to do that but it is worth considering. There were some framed pieces of a local artist that were very similar to her own odd creations. She felt odd, like something that was just hers wasn't. It was an uncomfortable feeling.

The week seemed long

She is on the fourth day of a five day work week. Sounds normal enough but she is used to working two days and then a day off, then two days and two days off. It doesn't help that she doesn't feel well but seriously she does feel like she is whining. As she sits drinking her morning coffee, she just wants to go home to bed. At least it isn't raining as she anticipated; a bright spot in her day. She will try to enjoy the bright spots and only think about one more day and then three days off. Yet two of those days she will not have the house to herself. She so does like having the house to herself. Maybe if the chores get accomplished on the weekend she can just do whatever she wants on Monday. Still the weather is supposed to be fine on Saturday so she will probably be outside all day. That will be nice unless it worsens the breathing issue this spring has caused. Still it is worth the discomfort she thinks.. She shall have to wait and see.

just another episode

She is at the bus station waiting on the bus. It will be here soon and she will board and choose a seat. She will most likely plug in her ear phones so as to isolate herself from the other passengers. She has been riding this bus so ong that the stories are old and the voices have become a bit annoying. So she plugs in the ear buds and rides in solitude. The solitude that she seems to achieve among others no matter what. Not necessarily a good thing.

just writing about me, why I do not know

She thinks today will seem very long. She is in some discomfort; deep breaths are painful.. It could be a result of her allergies or a cold coming on. Who knows? Of course she just deals with it as she will not seek professional counsel. She realizes that she is stubborn on this matter and a bit irrational. She constantly urges others to seek the help of medical professionals while shunning them herself unless a situation forces it upon her. It is a combination of fear, lack of confidence and denial of the need. She will probably exit this world sooner than absolutely necessary because of this. Yet she feels that to be held in a web of physicians and medications isn't her way so she will go on as she always has. She will deal with discomfort and pain: she will absolutely not seek professional help unless trauma of some sort forces her hand. So when you hear her complain just let it pass over you. She has no one to blame but herself.

stuff from the teeny tiny doodle pad

A few pictures from the tiny doodle pad in my purse. I have gone tiny temporarily due to the weight of my sketchpad bag. It seriously kills my shoulder and actually when added to the weight of my purse is probably not a good thing. So I bought a tiny notebook to sketch and write in. I just ignore the lines when i sketch. Should I even call what I do sketching. No I shouldn't, I should just say doodling because that is what it is.

I believe I have just substituted this for the coloring books of my youth. It is more fun because there is no constraint. I have decided to change them to black and white soon and make them into a coloring book for you all to play with. Of course others might not think that is cool. Most people outgrow coloring I guess. Oh well I have never been most people. Now on to some writing from the teeny tiny doodle pad.

She sits at her corner table on an early morning and has made an observation. The sun has of course already risen as it is the twentieth day of April. What she has observed is that even if she had arrived here earlier this table would no longer have faced the sunrise. Apparently the movement of the earth in the changing season has moved the sunrise off to the left of her view.. She finds this interesting and is a bit sorry that she was unaware or somehow missed this change. As she records this observation she thinks she should be out walking in the early morning light. Still she does not venture outside. The morning is quite chill and she does not feel up to the physical action. So she will lay down pen and pick up marker and pencil. It is time to lose herself in a bit of creating. There is time to start something new before embarking on the next leg of her regular morning journey.

wanting to walk away

She sits in the back room waiting for her soup to heat, wondering how many more years she can deal with this job. It has been over twenty years so far and the job itself is not difficult, really very routine. It is the people, the personalities she must deal with time and time again that seems to be getting harder. Either her perceptions have changed or her tolerance for certain behaviors. One might say such is life when dealing with people daily, but what makes it so difficult now. Sometimes it is fine and nothing eats at her but on other occasions the slightest glance, word or action puts her on edge. She is beginning to feel pushed out, unneeded and unwanted. It is not a pleasant feeling so her mind says whatever and shies away from the truth. She sits waiting for her food realizing that she must continue in this job out of necessity. Should the necessity ever go away, what then. Will she walk away quietly or will there be a volcanic eruption of old anger and resentments. She hopes for the former. She prays to be able to walk away soon.

she sits

She sits in a booth at a popular fast food spot. She is here on several mornings just killing time until her chariot, or bus which ever makes you happy, whisks her away to her corner at the doughnut shop. She normally sits at a table in the corner facing the windows to catch the sunrise. However today her form of communication requires feeding so she must sit near a fuel source. Odd how implements we use to aid us also add extra effort to our day.

A man wearing a denim jacket bearing a likeness of a well-known rodent at a well-known place of entertainment just exited the building. Just another observation she found interesting. Such observations are a way to stay alert as it is very early and she would rather be in bed. Still, early morning observations of other beings in her world helps her to stay grounded to this world. It is too easy to slip into a small world that is all her own.

As she sits at her booth creating yet another piece of her own odd artwork she listens to the music playing in the background. A thought passes through her mind: why do human beings create art, song, story and sometimes thing that do harm?. Why this never-ending need to create? I s it because we are so capable of destruction and waste? Are we attempting to bring balance? If we are but highly evolved animals; what environmental needs are triggering such rapid change in our habits and needs?

As she sits thinking and writing these thoughts, she decides that the answers are not important. The important thing is the creation and the endless possibilities. So she will continue creating things of no apparent use just for the sake of the creating. She will leave a bit of the essence that is her in everything she does as does anyone and everyone who creates something. Thus bits of us all are always out there intermingling to create a wonderful story called life.

Too much time in dunkin donuts

In the corner of the doughnut shop she sits, just as she does several times a week. She doesn't come for the doughnuts but for the coffee. Lately bagels have joined her morning routine; usually cinnamon raisin and an occasional onion. When she walks into the shop; she is recognized and upon emerging from the restroom her coffee is either made or in the process. There is a comfort in being a regular and having her wants anticipated. Yet it is also a discomfort. She is a creature of habit but also of whim. When the coffee is already being made she feels locked into a previous choice. Not wanting to be discourteous, she smiles and accepts what has been prepared for her, though that might not have been her choice for the day. It is a small price to pay for the comfort of the corner in the doughnut shop; where life's aggravations are held at bay temporarily.

So she sits and sips her coffee, that which at one time she avowed was not very good. The coffee has become a symbol of doing for herself. It is a luxury she can ill-afford. A luxury which is probably not the best for her health. A luxury that she will continue in spite of purse and health. It is a self-indulgence she will not give up.

When you see her in her corner at the doughnut shop, smile for she is in a comfort zone. A place to just be for a moment or two. A place where she is just herself with no entanglements. Smile and leave her to herself; for soon the moment will be gone and she will push open the door to leave and return to the real world.

internet game addiction

Well I guess I am addicted to playing these silly online games. I went to sign into Facebook so I could play my Farmville and Facebook is temporarily down. I am so worried about my crops withering that I tried to get to the game in a different way. No go. So seriously it isn't like they are real crops or that it is real money for crying out loud. Still, I probably will stay up a little later than I would of so I can check back and maybe save my harvest. Pitiful isn't it?

On another note I just watched the movie Julie and Julia. It was pretty good. Meryl Streep played a great Julia Child. I actually thought the best part of the movie was the way the relationship between Julia and her husband was portrayed. I remember watching Julia Child and she was not an attractive woman so if the portrayal was somewhat correct it is a beautiful thing.

I didn't get much done today because of a horrific headache this morning. I am pretty sure allergies are the culprit but I am not sure. Still if allergies are the price for nice weather I am willing to pay the price. I took the Easter decorations down and moved a few outdoor things around but that was about it for the day. I did however finish all of the laundry. So I believe I can go to bed feeling somewhat accomplished.

Why do we always have to feel like we accomplished something in our day? I am pretty sure we didn't feel that way as children. We just kept on moving and doing until we fell asleep pretty much wherever we landed. We didn't plan or over think the day. We just lived. Oh to be able to do that now. What a pleasure.

What is going on inside my head?

I am writing this just to clarify things inside my head. That is a difficult thing these days. I have been having a lot of trouble just dealing with life lately. I seem to want to sleep or just not move at all. The things I used to do to distract myself when I got anxious or irritated don't have the power they used to. This is maybe a sign that I need to meet things head on but I know I won't do that. It is not in my makeup. I have always been over the top with my emotions but I have always been able to reign them in eventually. Of course when my life was a bit more basic, what with young kids and all I was probably too busy to let this weirdness take hold. I know I probably could be busy with the grandchildren but I can't seem to get the energy that is required for that. There is a sense of disconnection that is ever growing. It is like when you walk through a spider-web and it sticks to you no matter how much you try to brush it away. It is like a creeping fungus that persists on taking over no matter what methods you use to rid yourself of it. It is very hard to describe this sense of disconnection. Have you ever just had enough of these grownup problems so you try to lose yourself in childhood or maybe just youthful memories? Those times that seemed so fun and effortless? When I remember events from my past that used to bring a smile to my face or even a nostalgic tear, it feels like I am remembering someone else's life or maybe scenes from a book I have read. There is no real connection. It is very scary. It is almost like waking from amnesia with memories but your emotions cannot connect to those memories. I keep telling myself , snap out of it Jackie but it isn't working so far. Now I am not writing this to worry anyone, just to put it in print so it isn't just another thought rolling around in my head trying to control me. I will work it all out I am sure. I always seem to manage. Sleep is a bit of a problem. I either do too much of it or it eludes me. I can sleep solid for a couple of hours, wake and then it takes a long time to go back to sleep. The thoughts just won't shut up inside my head no matter what tricks I use. Then lo and behold I must fall asleep because I find myself waking from some strange dream. On the days I don't have to work I can sleep for way too long. The strange dreams call to me, they seem so much more real than life. Odd isn't it. Well enough of this venting on paper. Maybe some of these thoughts will leave me alone for awhile.

collage of tanya made on smilebox

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I am a random person and would like to connect to like random people

I would like to start a club of randomness. You know those random thoughts that pop into your head making you think you must be weird. I believe we all have them but a large percentage of us dismiss them like so many dust motes. My belief is that the random thoughts we have are important. They are like mini webs that connect the more solid thoughts in our minds. Besides sometimes a random thought can become a great big solid thought that then can become maybe an action that may cause a major ripple in the time warp continuum. See; a random thought just made it's way out of my mind and into print. Who knows what this might cause; what effect it may have on someone or something. Probably absolutely nothing but there is that tiny chance. Just think. No really just think, without thinking what are we but flesh consuming space better spent. Alright enough randomness for now because my potatoes are burning and that is just a terrible thing. Please enjoy my randomness and feel free to comment with some of your own.

The unmanageable thing called my brain.

This morning as I was getting out of the shower and admiring my short hair. Yes I know that sounds weird but for this millisecond I actually like my hair. Well anyhow I was thinking that I like the cut and I noticed a gray spot I must have missed when I last colored it. I then got to thinking maybe I should just go gray, I mean look how great Jamie Lee Curtis looks with her hair gray. Only the thing was I couldn't for the life of me think of her name. I rolled her image around in my brain, checked the alphabet for clues but couldn't come up with anything but Carrie Fisher. Now I knew it wasn't Carrie Fisher but once that name popped in my head it just wouldn't go away. So as I toweled, combed, and dressed, I was in mental agony trying to retrieve a piece of information that I knew was in my head but was remaining elusive. By the time I was ready to leave the bathroom I had come up with Jamie but that Fisher would not go away. So since then I have been doing other stuff thinking that when I got a chance I would google the movies I knew she was in to actually get her correct name. Lo and behold just as I was getting ready to do just that a few moments ago her name popped right into my head. Go figure.

Parenting and how I suck at it.

So, I have always stated that I am a bad parent just trying the best she could. I haven't changed my mind about that. When my children were young I probably spent way too much time on nurturing and not enough time on teaching consequences. That was most likely because the consequences would cause them pain which in turn caused me pain. So in my selfishness I avoided that pain by smoothing the way for them as much as I could get away with it. Thus they never really learned to handle loss, disappointment, and the hard way of getting what they need and want. Now that they are grown any pain they are caused still causes me pain. To handle this I just avoid dealing with them or try to smooth the way when I can. When will I learn and let them grow and be themselves and take care of themselves? Now my daughter might read this and say hey wait a minute I have always had to take care of myself. This is true but that is also because I avoided the pain she suffered many times when maybe I should have been smoothing the way a tad. I know it has made her a stronger person but I fear some scars might have been created that will never go away. I still sometimes get the urge to say don't do that, be like this, oh my please think. But for heavens sake she is a grown woman, I should just let her be and enjoy her company. My worries for her are probably based again on my own selfish wish for a cookie cutter life that doesn't exist. Now my boys, they are another story. I have selfishly strangled their ability to grow out of my need to be needed. Sure I say I want them to be able to totally self-sufficient but really where would I be then? How would I define myself? I would be even more lost then I already am. Don't get me wrong; if they can work their lives out and be happy, healthy, and somewhat content I would be very happy. Maybe the problem is that I have never been able to do that myself and the thought of them being lost like I am is a torment for me. Still I must learn to just back off and let them do what they must and hold in my fears and sadness. Still, a part of me just wants to gather my clan together in a tight circle and remind them and myself that we are a family and that is all that matters. I have a sad today.