Home away from hell

So here i am in the backwoods of Tennessee. i used to live here many years ago, in between the many therapists i’ve managed to accrue and discard along the way. it’s nice to be back, but i still will be anxious to leave after the holidays. we’ve brought our dogs with us. Miserable! i understand the need for doggy hotels. i would never consider boarding my dog; i really would never consider putting my dogs in a hotel, but it’s nice to fantacize. they knew we were leaving on a trip. they were so excited. As soon as we tore down their crates they knew something was happening and they barked and ran around the house like a couple of banshees. One is laying on top of my arm as I type this. She’s half on my hand and half on the keyboard. this won’t work.

My father-in-law got me a card for making straight A’s this past semester and a Starbucks gift card. That gift card is so precious to me that I doubt I will ever use it. I don’t know why, really. Ironically, the boondocks of Tennessee have Starbucks (what corner of the earth doesn’t!)and I went yesterday and got my fix on. I didn’t use the gift card my father-in-law gave me which made my husband curious. But that card means more to me than the monetary value that’s on it.

The things that calls themselves our parents don’t even inquire about grades or how we are doing on papers or projects. Being an English Ed major, at least at my Univeristy, is a long, hard, arduous learning process. It is very difficult and the birth creatures don’t care how I’m doing. No cards. No questions. No interest.

So it means so much to me that my father-in-law would have the thought and kindness to give me my favorite gift. He’s given me cards ever since I went back to school. I think I might should just stay in school so that I can keep getting cards and deceiving myslef that I belong in a “family.”

My dreams, the ones I remember, have been vivd and disturbing.

The shifts are becoming more apparent to D. I think he’s learning. He can tell when I switch. I’ll hear from some far away place him say that I’m acting different. I feel different. I feel mean, spiteful, and hatefule. The medication I thought was helping to begin with but don’t feel so sure anymore. I feel totally out of control.

I excercised last night and it felt damn good. I didn’t do as long as I would have at the gym but I worked up a fierce sweat and was beat when it was over, and that’s an awesome feeling. It is relaxing.

D. has been after me about sex, and I can’t bear the thought. I don’t even like him looking at my body, much less touching it. He knows it too. Before I could just make excuses and put it off but he is catching on to my avoidance. So I just lay there until it’s over with…..sounds like old times.

that made someone inside sad and tearful.

i don’t know what to do anymore. i feel ashamed to publicize this blog. others who blog and are diagnosed with this “disorder” seem pulled together and wise and I so hope it’s genuine and it lasts. my experience has always been to put myself out there and then pull back out of fear. People say you can only let others hurt you if you let them; i disagree. People constantly hurt other people. The world is riddled with pain. I’m a speck in the ocean. My suffering is insignificant. I’m insignificant.

we’ve done well. haven’t looked over previous posts. that is the name of the game. if we look at the crap we’ve written we will get frightened into not writing anymore.

Last night I watched Shrek 3 with D. and his parents. D. said we had rented the movie together and watched it at home. i have absolutely no recall of that or anything at all in the movie. it’s so disconcerting. and i see D. trying to help me with his parents; they’ll make a comment about something “I” did and “I” don’t know what they are talking about. D. starts making excuses or says something to change the subject or just help me out. I’ll give him the B.O.D. and pretend he’s doing it because he loves me and not embarassed by my lack of consistent being.

it seemed like there was so much more to write about, but when I sit down the words escape me. lucky words.

till next time…

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