New Year Resolutions

It is a new calendar year, and as such, people have given into the tradition of establishing resolutions for themselves. Whether one participates or not, it is a given fact that many people do participate. I am normally one that does, but this year, I am participating.

This year, I have a few different resolutions for myself. I'm setting them up as my therapist does my treatment plan, so some things from that comes into play.

• I will become more healthy. This applies to both physical and mental health.
  
  • I will be analytical about my habits and behaviors rather than reactive.
    
    • I will journal/blog at least once a week. Each entry must be a minimum of 250 words.
  • I will establish a set routine of physical and mental activity.
    
    • I will endeavor to walk a mile each day.
    • I will journal/blog at least once a week. Each entry must be a minimum of 250 words.
    • I will do my Yoga routine three times a week.
    • I will do my Belly-Dancing routine once a week.
  • I will take my medications as prescribe and attend all appointments.
  • I will keep a food journal.
  • I will keep an activity journal.
  • I will keep a weight journal, both a fasting weight (morning) and a nightly weight.
• I will read more. Moreover, I will write about what I read so that I know that I've absorbed the information. To this end, I have started the blog A Woman Reads.
  
  • I will post a blog entry on A Woman Reads at least twice a week, discussing whatever it is that I'm reading at that time.
• I will write more. This applies to both nonfiction and fiction.
  
  • I will finish one of the stories that I currently have started.
    • The original fiction that I currently have in progress are:
      
      • The Dracon Saga
      • Blackcrest Book
      • Melody's Seduction
      • Eternal Dance
      • The Night the Fairy Danced
      • Austra Rewrite (and backstories)
      • Alternative View Rewrite (and backstories)
      • Haven Saga Rewrite (and backstories)
    • The "medium" stories that I currently have in progress are:
      
      • The Trial of Albus Dumbledore
      • Knots
      • "Pagan Harry"
    • The "long" stories that I currently have in progress are:
      
      • Schrodinger's Effect
      • Through Feline Eyes
      • The Necessity of Life
  • I will write in the nonfiction area as well.
    
    • I will strive to write an editorial essay of around 1000 words in length every month. These essays may be of any topic that I wish. I must include references for material.
    • I will strive to write an instructional essay of around 1000 words in length every month. These instructional essays should be on various topics concerning paganism or writing as they are for use on my already created pages for those topics.
    • I will work on the Glossary Project at least once a week for a significant amount of time.
• I will grow spiritually. Ever since moving in with my mother, I have let myself go spiritually. While I'm aware of why this is so, I am resolved to make an effort to counter this.
  
  • I will smudge myself in the morning and also at night before retiring.
  • I will take care of my altar with mindfulness.
  • I will strive to meditate at least every other day.
• I will strive towards acquiring a den of my own again, assuming I get my disability or a decent tax return amount.
  
  • To this end, I will pay off utilities that fell behind when fundage dried up last spring/summer.
  • I will set about making a budget to which I can stick.
  • I will save money, even if it seems like I'm hoarding it.

Give Me Love

Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran

Dear Mother,

Did your heart ever stirred with love for me? Or have I always been nothing but a burden to you? A method of escaping one prison while being held captive by other means?

You speak of your mother, and how she never cared. She ignored you except to tear you down or order you about. You are filled with rage about it, so much rage. You hate that she edits the past to fit what makes her look best. You speak with derision of her incessant need to make everything about herself.

Can't you see that everything you hate about her, you are?

You didn't want me. I know because you have told me so on many occasions. You have said that I ruined your social life, your love life, and your figure. When you started smoking, it was my fault as well. I drove you to it, you said. You never cuddled with me or hugged me. The easy affection that the girls and I share is something that you and I never had.

You deride every decision I have ever made. You don't want me to take my meds because you feel that I shouldn't need them. You don't think I should be with Alex despite the fact I have been with him for twelve years and he has been my sole source of support for most of that. You don't think I should work on my writing because "no one reads any more".

You call me names, even if my girls are there and listening. You threaten to turn us out on the streets or destroy our stuff--the only belongings that we have. You threaten to kill our cat or force us to get rid of him. You criticize the girls to teach them body shame and self hatred.

Is it any wonder that Lilium has stopped eating unless I beg her? She wants to take back the control that she's lost in this. She's scared and doesn't know how to express it. She needs stability. Her world is in chaos. I understand how she feels, but I can't give her what she needs now.

There was once a point when I would give anything for you to love me, for you to be proud of me. There may be always a part of me that wonders what was so horrifically wrong with me that my own mother didn't want me. But I accept that I can't live in that limbo. I need to let it go for my own piece of mind and happiness.

Maybe someday that won't hurt.

Terrible Feeling of Doom

There comes a time when one is forced to see things that they do not wish to see.

I thought that Alex and I were stronger than anything. We had been together for coming up on twelve years. In that time, we have had a lot of bad times. We, as a family, are among the poor. It's not from lack of trying either, despite what my sister PJ wants to believe. We have tried for years to sustain ourselves on our own. Everything was paycheck to paycheck and was held together by wistful thinking and prayer. If it could go wrong, it always did. We've gotten kicked out of places for the stupidest of reasons, and on the shortest of notices. We've both lost a lot of jobs for the stupidest of reasons too. I love my daughters, but they weren't planned.

When Alex went to Kentucky, it was with the promise of decent job that would pay our bills as well as the possibility of a house that we could set up to buy from the owner on a Rent-to-Own basis. Things were supposed to get better. It was supposed to be our break.

Well, the job didn't turn out. They fired him because he had gained a nickname among the other recruits and that was "unprofessional". Alex managed to snag another job, but it's only a temporary job with no guarantee of being kept on after the holiday season. It's also Walmart, which is notorious about underpaying their employees.

The guy with the houses that he wanted to sell refused to return phone calls. That's probably for the best. We couldn't afford to save anything anyway. So he's stuck there and I'm stuck here.

In swoops another person who seems to have all the answers. She came out of nowhere and was suddenly planning on living with us. She was going to give money to a broker so that we'd be millionaires before the year was out. That's what he specialized in, after all. Oh, and she would just build us a house to live in--isn't she nice? And she'll pay for me and the girls to come out there too! Why hasn't she moved forward with it? Oh, she just needs to talk to her firm back in Boston. She flies back next week...no, next week...no, next week...

As for her story about the broker, I know someone who has played the stock market and the hard currency market for several decades, so I asked him about it. He said that the odds are better playing the lottery than giving a mere hundred dollars to a broker, no matter how good he is.

Then Daddy came up with a really good lead. It's essentially the same job that Alex went out to Kentucky for only here in Missouri. That means that we could stay in the area that we're familiar with and with our support group. And Daddy's getting out this week! After twenty-five years in prison, he's getting out and we can do things with him and call him and a host of other things that most people take for granted.

So I bring it up with Alex and the rest of the group as a possibility. They refuse to discuss it for the longest time. Then I finally manage to get a conversation going only for it to be knocked back without consideration. I keep trying to find ways to counter the problems they are bringing it up, so that I can tell Daddy that we truly considered every option before turning it down. But halfway through I get cut off with the statement from Annie that things are established out there and I should just drop it.

Established means that things are permanent or settled...which means that things won't change. They are accepted as being valid.

I, like an idiot, denied that the separation was valid, that the situation was permanent. After all, didn't they plan to change things? That's when the cussing started and the name calling. Even when I explained what the word meant, they would not deny that what they are saying was true.

It all spiraled out of control. The next day, they had demanded most of the contingent to stop speaking with me, which they did. My queries into what was going on gained me only a demand that I stop childishly harassing people. Even worse, Alex still thinks that Annie is the best chance of getting out of the hole we are in, even though her story has been disproved and she decided that she didn't want to help anyway.

I've been so careful over the years to never tell him that he needed to decide between the girls and I, or something and/or someone else. Not only do I feel that doing so is unfair and childish, but I would rather not know for certain that I rank below something other than our girls. Thus I avoid the idea of forcing a choice.

But Annie, Kai, and Luna are forcing everyone to chose sides. One by one, all of the people that I have been trying to get to know have cut off communications with me except Raven and Alex. Who knows what tomorrow will hold?

I don't want to know where I rank.

I don't.

River

In the Darkness where I dwell
I can hear the river I know so well
It flows from my broken heart
In and out like waves that part
Cold fingers pierce my soul
Ripping and tearing what makes me whole
People speak and arrows flew
Who understands the tiny clue?
In my sorrow, I tempt Fate
Is it already too late?
Ties of blood are rivers too
Division makes from one two
I try so hard that I bleed
It's a sacrifice, and a plead
Upon deaf ears, it does fall
Like a dog, you do maul.
You steal and lie, portray a mask
You give an answer before the question's asked
You judge and jeer--It's justified
If you feel guilt at all, you'll just testify
Beware the stones that you throw
It's a glass house that you're owe
I live in my deep Darkness
With the shadows that I bless
I fear their cold but not their touch
I could teach you so much
But you are not a student, seeking knowledge
You are the master; this lie you pledge.
Listen to the river as she sings
Hear the popple of concentric rings.
The river flows within and out.
Ebbs and flows does its clout
I lay wounded in its flow
One beat, two, both are slow
In the Darkness where I dwell
The last I hear is the river's wail.

Useless Rant

I feel like I'm drowning.

I don't feel as namelessly heavy anymore. That's a good thing, right? Instead of that pressure upon my shoulders and heart, it's focused entirely on my head. I haven't slept without crying myself to sleep in a week and while my panic attacks have gone down, they have left me feeling like I have to be aware of everything.

It doesn't help that I know that this place isn't safe. The threats have already begun. They are mixed oh-so-causally into conversation. They are snapped in anger. "I'm going to rip the ears off your bunny (or head of your turtle)"; "I'm going jump on you when you're sleeping"; "I'm going to squirt dish soap into your mouth when you're sleeping"; "If you don't like it, you're free to leave, but the girls stay here"; "They're mine--I don't care about you."

Lynn tried to "spank" my daughters the other day. She thinks that spanking is just smack them on the butt until your hand gets tired or your anger is expelled. There's a procedure to it--they have got to understand why they are getting spanks (which is never more than a couple of smacks) and they have got to understand that they are still loved. Lynn doesn't listen to what I say. She thinks that she knows better without a lick of research to back her up. "It's what Mom does!"

Precisely.

Mom's method of discipline is to slap wherever she could reach until she was tired or not as angry anymore. She would scream insults at you as she did so. Things like "stupid brat" and "I'll teach you!" and "I'll take you down a notch." After the beating was over, she would order you to your room and to not come out until she said to. Even going to the bathroom was a punishable act. She was quite proud of "putting the fear of Mom" into us kids.

That's not how I want to raise my children. I don't want them to fear me and what I will do. I don't want them raised in fear and hate. I don't want them terrified to tell me something because I've told them that I would kill them or turn them out into the streets.

According to Lynn, I should stop including them in my rituals and stop teaching them about the Goddess because that stuff isn't real. She says that witches aren't human, and she does it at the top of her lungs in front of the girls. This after equating the word witch with child murderer. Then when I refused to let it go, she started hitting me upside the head and shoulders. According to my Mother, this is all just a difference of opinion and I should let it go.

According to PJ, I'm just a pathetic loafer who needs to admit that I know nothing about life and just get a job already. I should stop asking family for help and just do for myself. Never mind that I never ask for help for wants, only needs, and only as a last resort. PJ asked for help getting a tablet because she wanted it--not because she needed it as she had a perfectly fine laptop and top of the line iPhone. Oh, and I should just dump "that loser" and "get over" my "obsession with him" as if eleven and a half years of a committed relationship was a childish fantasy instead a marriage.

I just want to go home. Home to me means to Alex. Alex will keep me safe. He doesn't tell me that I'm fat or ugly or stupid. When I cry or panics, he holds me rather than laughs. I don't fear him. When I'm restless, he pets me until I'm calm again.

Or we'd go for a walk together with the girls and just talk. We walked a lot and not just because it was our mode of transportation. It was something to do to connect with each other. Everyone here either doesn't want to walk or they want to speed-walk or run. There are no meandering walks where things are savored instead of rushed; where the focus is conversation or to enjoy the weather instead of trying to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Oh, Mother of Mercy, how I miss him!

Some Family

The world is cruel.

It is doubly so if you are living your faith. The entire world seems out to tell you what you should believe, or think, or do. Everything would just get better if you would just be anyone else except who you are.

Then you stand up for yourself. You draw a line in the sand. After all, something has got to give, right? If you don't stand up for what you believe in, who will? If you don't, what kind of example would that set for your children?

My sister Lynn thinks that humans can't be witches. I discovered this after I corrected her when she used the label of my faith for a female unsub in Criminal Minds. She said it in a scoffing tone, as if it was so obvious that everyone knew it, as if the sheer ignorance of the statement did not occur to her at all.

Further correction revealed that she thought that passing down my faith was "forcing it upon the girls". All because I pray with them; because I include them in what I do; because I have discussed life and death with them. I live my faith. It is an every day thing for me. How can I not include my children?

What's more is she thinks that I was overreacting by correcting her. I was overreacting by being offended that my own sister was dehumanizing my children and myself; that she was saying that my daughters were on the same level as a child murderer.

And what does my mother say to it? We're both entitled to our opinions. Like it was a discussion about favorite colors instead of a discussion about the verbal abuse that Lynn had just performed upon my daughters.

Some family.

A Good Day

I had a good day today.

This is a marked improvement over most of my days lately. I was having an insomnia spell. For me that means that I both couldn't fall asleep and once there, I couldn't stay. I'm bipolar; insomnia is just a fact of life. I am also struggling with depression, something that I'm finding much different from my depressive cycle. The depression, almost ironically, is the only reason that I was getting any sleep at all.

But today was a good day.

It started with me going to sleep at the usual time. Instead of fighting to fall asleep, I dropped right off without any problems. For once, I had good dreams. My nightmares are frequent companions, but not last night. Last night, I slept deeply and peacefully straight through to my mother waking me before she left for work at five to watch the girls who she had woken a half hour previous.

I had a nice cuddle with both my daughters as we talked. The television was on Qubo though we were only paying half attention. Julia, my youngest, regaled me with a story about Detective Cat's adventures while Lilium colored a drawing from the packet of pictures that Amafo (my dad) sent her. It was a lazy morning, but aren't those the best kind?

After the girls were off to school, I came back and made coffee. I decided on a whim to experiment with cream and sugar again. You know, I can drink it black--some coffees I even prefer it that way. I can't even remember why I settled upon four teaspoons and so much creamer. Why not find my taste again? I'm thinking of getting a little jar with a lid that seals and another measuring spoon so that I have a hard number for the creamer. The Autumnal Equinox was yesterday. It is a good time for changing things.

I drank one cup while I did my Facebook rounds. Then I went for a walk around the track that's in the field across the street. I listened to yawns from the trees and their hushed voices reminded me that I don't do this near enough. I need to get out more--not just for the exercise that is study-proven to help with depression like I told my therapist when she asked why I wanted to include it in my treatment plan. I am Choctaw. My blood comes from the earth. My heart beats with its rhythms. Being out in nature is good for me. I need the reminder of what is a good flow.

I finished the assembly of Julia's kinnickkinnick bag. It's now prepped for decoration. I just need to get a different color of seed beads. I'm thinking of doing the edging in black, both for added protection on the bag and because Julia like black and red, which the bag already is due to the fabric. If I do the fringe edge in black and then use black thread to to the pinching afterwards, that would tie it all together. I may try to do a beaded end to the cord if I have time.

I went over to Grandpa's today. The excuse was I needed help filling out some paperwork to cash out my 401k, but that was quickly done and we just sat and talked for another two hours. I enjoyed that. We talked about Dad and his outdate. We talked about how difficult that was going to be for him and strategized ways to keep Daddy both from being overwhelmed and from being restless. We talked about my sister thinking she was white but not actually being so. We talked about religion and politics and how no one seems to remember their history. We talked about shows for our crafts and the little shop that Dad wants to open.

When I got home, I had a Dr. Pepper/Pepsi tea party with two girls, a turtle, a bunny, and an elephant. It was under an umbrella, of course. I helped Lilium with her writing skills while she chatted through Facebook with my mother who was about three feet away. I cooked a not-so-balanced dinner of saute chicken and brussel sprouts. It was tasty though. I love how rosemary and brussel sprouts go together.

Baths and then off to bed, where I should be going now as well.

Today was a good day.