Insomnia

I really, really, REALLY want to be asleep right now. This is day three of insomnia. I am dog tired, but as soon as I hit the bed, my mind starts to race, and I get jittery. I can feel every corpuscle in my body, and it is driving me insane.

I literally can feel the blood flowing through my veins. I am stressed, because I have two HUGE term papers due, and I have zero alone time except at night when I am too tired to focus on that shit. So I instead toss and turn in bed and think, "maybe Bud will sleep in, and I can get my butt up as soon as MIL leaves for dialysis. That will give me 5 hours of uninterrupted computer time."

My plan had been to go to the library on Tuesdays and Thursdays so I wasn't being distracted. Unfortunately, being broke and having the van running iffy at best has prevented me from going.

I can already see my obit: "...died from stressing out over term papers."

I feel sick to my stomach, and I feel like my body is humming like a taught wire. NOT a good feeling. I took a muscle relaxant, as it usually knocks me out. Hell, it didn't even help the pain, let alone put me out.

Grrrrrrrrrrrr! My jaw hurts from being clenched. Stress much?

Hubby just got up to pee. I envy his snoring. I should have taken a nap today--then I would be fresh enough to tackle some homework.

Geez, am I a whiner or what?

Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day. Did you know I am a mom? Most people don't. I don't talk much about my son. He is an "adult"--I use the term loosely. He has spent more time on the streets and living with nothing than most.

I was a single mom until Joe turned 5, and then his biological father (The Sperm Donor, BS) decided he was going to be a part of his life and started visitation. It wasn't court ordered; It was only every-other-weekend, and Joe seemed to enjoy himself and look forward to the visits. BS never asked for joint custody--until I started dating and subsequently marrying my hubby. Then all Hell broke loose.

It was miserable for all of us, and most of all, for Joe. We battled in court twice. The second time, I lost physical custody of Joe. You may ask, "How in the Hell did you lose custody of the child you raised?" It wasn't pretty, that is for sure. It was heartbreaking, and it was ugly. And it meant that my relationship with my son would forever be changed.

We aren't close. I used to worry about him constantly, feel guilty constantly. To this day, I am sure I am going to get a call that he has been killed or has killed himself. He is mentally ill, and does not take his medication regularly. It is either when he has to be admitted to stabilize himself, or when he has enough money to pay for his meds. Most times, he foregoes getting his meds and buys cigarettes instead.

We get infrequent calls, and he is never in the same place twice. He has had more "homes"--again, using a term lightly--than most people have in a lifetime. He always seeks approval, so desparate for love and positive attention.

He has made some aweful choices for himself in the past. He is so naive, so trusting of people. Inevitably, he gets his heart broken, or is taken advantage of and is left on the streets with no money. He is drawn to those like himself--he meets most of his so-called friends in treatment centers. That goes ditto for his girlfriends. Most of the women he meets are homeless, no source of income, and single mothers. I think every last one of the women he has been with have been older. I think in some ways, he is looking for a maternal figure, someone to take care of him. In his mind, it is he that is going to take care of them, however.

The relationships are short lived, and it always leaves Joe spiralling into a deep depression with suicidal thoughts. I know what must be going through his head: "I am not good enough for anyone. No one loves me. I am disposible."

He of course would feel that way. That is my dark secret: I gave my son away to the devil himself. I sacrificed motherhood in an attempt to keep the peace with everyone. I desparately wanted to keep my husband; I didn't want to keep fighting with BS; I was sick of court battles where I inevitably came out looking like an over-emotional basket case. Hell, even hubby said I was not fit to be a mom. So I got what I deserved. But Joe didn't deserve this. He really didn't.

We have rescued Joe twice. Once it was in Birmingham. He was in the hospital after cutting himself dozens of times. He had been living on the streets, and we hadn't heard from him in ages. We tried to help him, but he didn't want to follow rules. He was 19, and didn't want any responsibility.

The next time was after he got kicked out of his girlfriend's house. She took his money, and kicked him out. He stayed with us about a month that time. He really was doing a good job (for Joe), but my sisterwife couldn't stand him. She called him "a worthless excuse of a human being". That cut my heart to pieces. She despised him, and wanted him gone. For his own safety, both physical and mental, I let him go. That was the last time I saw him...4 years ago.

I know he wants to come home. He is weary and homesick. He hasn't seen family in about two years. I can't help him--we are technically homeless ourselves, save for living with the people we are taking care of.

So that is the ugly burden I carry. I am not much of a mom. I crave calls from Joe, but when he does, I can't stand talking to him. It is too painful. I deserve the pain. I deserve to have it crammed down my throat. But I avoid it. I am a coward.

Happy Mother's Day.

Sharing a Poem or Two

I have a writer trapped inside of me. I have stifled my creativity for so long, I forget it is there sometimes. I have a novel that I haven't worked on in (cringe) two years, and a short story I wrote in my head yesterday while I was sitting outside. CRAZY! The two poems below were "in-my-head" poems as well. I should have written them down while they were still fresh, as the written product is not what the original words were. I tried to recall them, but only was able to come up with the gist of them. Sigh.

Musing on Wisteria

Spring comes, shoulders draped in Wisteria

A vibrant purple wrap upon dancing trees

A youthful playfulness, saying,

"look at me, look at me!"

All too soon, (oh, too soon)

The spring wrap fades to a grey shawl

A mere shadow of what once was

As the Wisteria falls from favor

4/4/11 Weiser

Magenta

And there was a rosebush

It grew by the front porch steps

Much taller than I

I Having never seen it bloom

I waited as the first buds teased

Tight bundles of green

What color bloom lay hidden within?

Red? Yellow? or maybe pink?

Only the rosebush knew

And then--oh my! I see

The first hints of the encapsulated color

No longer hidden from view

Magenta! Not Red or Pink

But a color only worthy of itself

Bursting to greet the day

This rose is not coy-- Not one bit.

It is flashy and sassy

She will not be ignored

Her fragrance is seductive

Not like grandma's toilet water

No, Magenta is sexy

She flirts with everyone

All eyes are drawn to her beauty

A rose so bold

I noticed a subtle change today

Magenta was duller

No longer herself

She drooped on the branch

Struggled to keep her head up

Color draining

No longer smooth and delicate

Petals withered

Defeated

She bowed her head to rest

As the next bloom peeked

To meet the world

4/4/11 Weiser

My Elusive Degree and Other Ramblings

I was a college drop-out. I was an unwed mother, and I needed to work to support my child. 29 years later, I decided to go back to school. Things sure have changed!

Let's see, in 1985, we were using Commodore 64 computers with 5" floppy disks. Does anyone out there remember those oldie but goodies? And internet--what internet? Didn't exist. We did research the old-fashioned way: in the library.

Now, I am taking all my classes online in a distance learning program. Try doing that when you are working 70+ hours a week! At times, I have felt like my head was going to explode. I have managed to keep a 3.5 average. I even made the Dean's list at some point!

I still have a year to go. When you are only taking 4 classes a semester, it is slow going. And it didn't help that I changed majors, and that a lot of my credits didn't transfer. but I WILL get it done, one way or another. It is almost an obsession with me (not unlike POGO, but that is for another post). Not that having that degree is going to make a difference in my job hunt. Not really. With the economy the way it is, there are lots and lots of degreed individuals competing for jobs for which they are over-qualified. No, it is just about completion for me. I like having things done, and this has been something I left undone for a long, long time.

At times, I feared hubby would divorce me over my schooling. I would come home from work and immediately put my nose in a book, staying up late to get homework done. I will just be glad to have it done. I am learning a lot, though, so that is a plus...

When ES was still around, I think she was a little jealous of me being in school, or maybe even a little bit threatened. She was the know-it-all, and by god, you sure didn't argue with her, because she was always right! That didn't make going to school any easier. It wasn't about them, though. It was something I needed to do for me. Selfish as it may be, I have to do this.

I remember her throwing it in my face during one heated argument. She basically told me that I was an educated snob. That really hurt, especially since she had bent over backwards to make sure her kids went to college, because she knew how important an education is.

Don't get me wrong. I really did love ES, once upon a time. I loved her so much, her words would just devastate me. The ES years were so turbulent. We were just too different, and I was not strong enough to stand my ground with her. She was a very dominant personality. When she got sick, she changed. In the end, she had let the illnesses win. She just gave up, and it was unbearable to witness. She would go days without bathing, and she would hole up in her room, barely speaking to anyone. I am ashamed to say it now, but I was glad when she made the choice to leave. She had withdrawn so much from the family, she was hardly recognizable, and refused any help. And it sure didn't help that she blamed me for everything...

A little education goes a long way. The Lyme's disease would never have been diagnosed if ES hadn't gone online to figure out what and the heck was wrong with her. Unfortunately, it was too little too late; she was already stage IV when the official diagnosis was made. She was diagnosed with diabetes and PAD shortly after that. Within 6 months, she lost her leg.

I just found out that I am borderline diabetes. Not a surprise, as I am obese. I am not, however, going to go down the same path as ES. For one thing, I am a non-smoker (except for the second hand smoke I breath daily). I am not going to eat myself into the grave. I am not going to lay in bed or on the couch for hours at a time, no matter how much my arthritis may be hurting. I am not going to blame other people or doctors or the tobacco companies or the fast food industry for my current state. I am blaming me. I am not making excuses or pointing fingers. A little education goes a long way...

I harbor a lot of anger and resentment, and that is not healthy. I need to let that crap go before it eats at me as well. ES is gone. I will never be able to tell her how she made me feel. But that was my choice. Her last words to me were: " You know I would really like to know what the I did to cause you so much pain?" I never answered her. It would have been far too painful for me to rehash everything, and I had become so used to her belittling my feelings, I didn't think it was worth the pain. Now I wish I would have, if for no other reason that to get it out instead of internalizing it.

I never wished her any ill will. I certainly did not wish her the pain and suffering she went through, both physical and emotional. I am stymied by my reaction to her death. I feel......nothing. And that really bothers me. No pain, sorrow, remorse, regret. Just, nothing. I thought maybe it was because I was in shock. But I am not really shocked or surprised. What does that say about me as a person? Have I lost the capacity to give a damn? Am I evil?

I am certain that she hated me to the core. I am also sure her family hates me as well. Just as well. If I can't even find any feelings in me at all for her, that says a lot. How can you feel indifference for someone you loved and cared about? I should feel SOMETHING, for cryin' out loud.

Maybe I need some couch-time with a psychobabbler....