Control is an illusion and that sucks.

The longer I live, the less control I have. Or, at least if feels that way. I had complete control over my life until I got married. Then, I had to check before I booked a flight. Then with the babies...I got a little control back...because they depended on me and couldn't make their own decisions. Now, I have a 6-year-old and a 3-year-old. I have no control. There is more love in my life. There is more beauty. There is more light. But there are also many times when I have absolutely no idea how to deal with the push back of the 6-year-old, Zoe. Wow. We are close. Closer than I ever was with my parents already. I understand her brain and her emotions because they are so similar to my own. Which will make her life hard, but she will feel so many great things...and then there are the really tough times. To see your child act out their inner demon is scary. At times, I feel an exorcism is in order. When she is laughing at me...screaming horrible things, telling me she hates me and she wants me to move out of the house. Her anger becomes hotter and hotter. She kicks and hits and screams and talks back with as much disrespect as she can muster. All of this is probably brought on by her feeling as if she has no control. She wants to control situations as well. She wants to be perfect. She wants to know everything now. She wants the moments to roll out the way they are in her head. I get that. If something doesn't feel right or if it isn't as BIG of a moment as she wanted it to be, she's done. Life is going to be tough. I felt most of these things in my 20s. At 6, her thoughts and emotions far surpass her little body. Her brain hasn't developed enough to equal her out. During those times, I want to rewind and start again. I must have done something wrong. I wasn't sweet enough. I showed too much emotion. 

I cry. I cry at happy moments, touching moments, sad memories...even when writing them down. I cry more at movies than I ever did. My life continues to stuff me full of feelings. I think and feel about things much more than the average person. I know this. It drives me crazy. I love large. I want to be there for everyone and sometimes it leaves me feeling as if I can't reach out to anyone. Who first? And why haven't they called me? Are they sick? Are they upset with me? Are they depressed and can't reach out? Are they fine with me not being a part of their life anymore? 

See. 

I love all the ups and downs for writing purposes. I tend to not write if things are going well. I tend not to write if my days are flat lined and I feel as if I'm in Groundhog's Day...each day is the same. Staying home can do that. Today, as I was vacuuming and wanting to get out of there to write...but I felt compelled to get the crumbs in the kitchen before I left. That is fucking annoying. Who have I become? I am getting somewhat better. I will step away from all the dishes (because they are always there) and cuddle on the couch. I will go and sit down next to Harper and she will turn to me and say, "Have you come to be with me? You are so cute! I love you so much." She will immediately hug me and start holding my hand. I adore this child. 

Those are the moments. Yes, they are going to have "Regan"* moments and I will have to endure the pea soup being spit into my face because I know it will pass. I never spit pea soup at my parents. It triggers me into thinking that she doesn't respect me and that I don't feel worthy. (These are feelings that are discovered in therapy...hour and hours of therapy.) I have to remember she is 6. She is only 6. This is only a short period of time. In an hour, she will be making you the sweetest card that contains observations of an adult--to show you how much she really loves you. She will thank you for helping her with her letters. She will clean her room and the house and say, "You shouldn't have to do it alone." She will write to you that she sees how hard you work and will acknowledge the effort. At 6. She'll also watch black and white movies and love them. She will show such kindness to her little sister that it blows you away. 

I never had control. Not over my life and how it unfolds. The anxiety I feel every day trying to control it needs to go away. 

When that will happen, I just don't know.

*Regan is Linda Blair's character in The Exorcist. 

athletic supporter

Therapy is a good thing. It seems to put my thoughts in order. Writing can get them flowing and then sometimes I'm lost  with what to do next.

I've been selfish. I've been insecure and let it rule my life. I haven't been supportive at ALL. It makes me sick really. I need to get on the ball here. He's been running for so long and developing relationships--that is a GOOD thing. I can't be defensive...I need to be welcoming. I need to change my entire attitude about it all. I need to open my heart up and see what happens. We've been together for 10 years...you'd think I'd trust him by now.

Push out the brainwashing. They don't always leave. They don't. Sometimes they stay...they leave when they feel unappreciated and unsupported...unloved. I've sucked at this wife things. I really have. He should feel like he is in my inner circle. I need to let him in!!!! I need to crawl out of my shell and see that the sun shines--I don't have to be in the dark and protected.

What kind of life is that?
Off to get supplies.

emotional vomit. Trust. Marriage. The struggle to be vulnerable.

I've started a couple of other blogs. This one is the mother ship, though. I'm at Starbucks trying to make some progress with my writing. I was with the girls all morning. I cleaned...then took them to lunch and the library. Zoe is eating up books and I love it. Jason ran a race this morning and is soaking his feet while watching Scooby Doo--a Dustin influence there. I'm so tired, but damn it, I have to keep it flowing. My class is over and so there is nothing pushing me out of the house. There are no more prompts. I sucked at them anyway. I felt as if I never had time, which is bullshit. I have the time, but don't feel inspired enough. I always feel that writing needs to be inspired.

I do have something to discuss however. I'll throw it out into the universe. So, I have a few close friends. Ones I have had for years and years and from the time I was 14 or so, I've told them everything. EVERYTHING. Well, I take that back. When I was going through my horrible times of depression, I didn't reach out. I didn't know who to call...and there are times when I am not sure what to say, so I don't. Otherwise, we talk about all aspects of our lives. This causes an issue for Jason who feels on the outside of things. He feels as if he's not in the inner circle. I can see what he is saying. The thing is, our relationship is a different one. It isn't exactly close. Close to me means, cuddling up at night and talking in dark. Our bodies touching, our minds unfolding...maybe I'm describing a teenage romance, but it's what I need. I need physical touch. I need to be held and whispered to and kissed and talked softly to. We raise our voices a lot. We are talking over kids a lot. We are tired and end up going separate ways many times in order to get things done. We are parents. We are roommates. We forget what got us here. Times where we laughed and laid in bed talking. We laughed a lot. I miss that. But I hold back my thoughts from him because he doesn't seem to really want to hear them. When we do talk, it's late and he gets tired and is sensitive to my feelings. He gets hurt. He doesn't want me to talk to my friends about everything. I do. I guess I understand where he is coming from, I guess. But, my comeback is that he has never had close friends like mine. He's never had such depth and history. So much has happened to connect me to these people...people that reached out to me in a time of need...or helped during an awful time in my life. The bonds are there. Jason and I didn't date very long before he proposed. It seemed like a lifetime, but it wasn't. I was so focused on the ring that I didn't let the relationship evolve. We needed more time and memories under out belt. We needed to bond more, trust each other more and feel comfortable sharing our feelings. I couldn't even share my feelings about the wedding. I say one thing and want another. I told him what I thought he wanted to hear. I just wanted him. I wanted it to work. I didn't want to screw it up. I guess I feel the same now. I don't feel safe letting him into all of my feelings and thoughts. I worry that he's not permanent. My mom made sure that was the feeling I would always have. They can always leave. You need to be guarded. Friends, well my friends, aren't going to leave me. If they haven't left me yet, they are in for life. I guess I'm not letting him in and that I do treat him differently than my friends. He wants to feel as if he's my main go to. He knows all. He wants to feel like we are a team...part of one another. I don't feel that way. A lot of loneliness occurs at night...going to bed alone...spending my evenings alone. I have developed a life that is just mine and is not shared. I don't want to share it. I want to keep it safe. But, I might just lose him if I don't let him in. Isn't that what marriage is?? He doesn't have to be everything, but he needs to be something. And it's true...right now he isn't in my inner circle. I see more walls than doors. He has his own friends. He has his running cult that I am not a part of. We have nothing together. Our life experiences are lacking. They are wrapped around the girls--but we don't have much on our own.

We're going to see To Kill A Mockingbird tonight at Geva. Maybe a play and discussion will be good for us. I'm not a runner...I'm a thinker, writer and movie watcher. I don't have anything in common with his friends...but J used to have all of those things in common with me.