18.9.10
Selfish
I decided, since everyone is out of the house and its my birthday weekend, I'm not going to clean the house alone.
17.9.10
Power Dynamics of the Patriarichal Home
I feel like I'm stuck in some power struggle I don't quite understand. Mike fought all night to sleep on my side of the bed. I've slept on the same side of the bed for 14 years and suddenly last night he started sleeping on my side of the bed and refused to budge. I slept on the couch for part of the night, tried to sleep on his side to no avail and finally wrestled what little space I could on the edge of my side. As soon as I got up to wake the kids this morning he resolutely moved back into my spot. What is going on here?
I know I'm a little OCD that this even matters but seriously - you run your life a certain way for 14 years and then someone up and changes it without explanation, without remorse.
Keira's another one. She looks me straight in the face this morning and tells me, "I have no clean clothes." Her drawers are filled with stacks of clothes we bought her at the beginning of school and here's the kicker: Some of them still had tags on them. So when I put the nice new jeans on her she throws and absolute shit fit. Yelling, screaming, kicking. You'd think I'd suggested we lobotomize her the way she was carrying on.
Ari and Donovan have chosen their sides, the quit doing homework two weeks ago and have been lying about it ever since.
I'm tired. My psychologist says the only one I can control is me but it feels like when I stop trying to control them they either give up or gang up on me. The house is trashed because no one will clean it but me and I haven't had time. Homework isn't getting done by anyone but me. And I don't even get a side of the bed anymore. And this is where I'm supposed to come up with some startling revelation that will help me deal with myself and the world around me but you know what? I got nothing.
I know I'm a little OCD that this even matters but seriously - you run your life a certain way for 14 years and then someone up and changes it without explanation, without remorse.
Keira's another one. She looks me straight in the face this morning and tells me, "I have no clean clothes." Her drawers are filled with stacks of clothes we bought her at the beginning of school and here's the kicker: Some of them still had tags on them. So when I put the nice new jeans on her she throws and absolute shit fit. Yelling, screaming, kicking. You'd think I'd suggested we lobotomize her the way she was carrying on.
Ari and Donovan have chosen their sides, the quit doing homework two weeks ago and have been lying about it ever since.
I'm tired. My psychologist says the only one I can control is me but it feels like when I stop trying to control them they either give up or gang up on me. The house is trashed because no one will clean it but me and I haven't had time. Homework isn't getting done by anyone but me. And I don't even get a side of the bed anymore. And this is where I'm supposed to come up with some startling revelation that will help me deal with myself and the world around me but you know what? I got nothing.
03B0E900-3553-B642-0C2B-6B0309EE90F0
1.02.28
Labels:
discouraged,
disgruntled,
married life,
parenting,
power struggles
16.9.10
I Curse Her For Leaving the World the Coward's Way
"I didn’t want any flowers, I only wanted
To lie with my hands turned up and be utterly empty.
How free it is, you have no idea how free——
The peacefulness is so big it dazes you,
And it asks nothing, a name tag, a few trinkets.
It is what the dead close on, finally; I imagine them
Shutting their mouths on it, like a Communion tablet."
-Tulips Sylvia Plath
I know that need for peace that she speaks of. The image of pale white palms open on white sheets is almost religious, I have seen pictures of Jesus and Mary with their palms facing outward like consolation. But the hugeness of the peacefulness, and the permanency of it... That is what scared me away.
Now the need for the quiet, for peace, is not so alluring and I can gain peace and happiness from my day to day mad rush. I can take a minute before the family wakes to write this journal. I can sit on my meditation pillow and ask the goddess or gods for Grace. I can ask them to grant me peace and tranquility. Yesterday they gave me the gift of the flowers. Today I can only imagine what they will send my way. Tomorrow, perhaps I will get no peace at all.
But the important thing is that I know what Sylvia wanted and I know she finally got it. I commend her the strength she had in going through with it but at the same time I curse her for leaving the world the coward's way...
-Tulips Sylvia Plath
I know that need for peace that she speaks of. The image of pale white palms open on white sheets is almost religious, I have seen pictures of Jesus and Mary with their palms facing outward like consolation. But the hugeness of the peacefulness, and the permanency of it... That is what scared me away.
Now the need for the quiet, for peace, is not so alluring and I can gain peace and happiness from my day to day mad rush. I can take a minute before the family wakes to write this journal. I can sit on my meditation pillow and ask the goddess or gods for Grace. I can ask them to grant me peace and tranquility. Yesterday they gave me the gift of the flowers. Today I can only imagine what they will send my way. Tomorrow, perhaps I will get no peace at all.
But the important thing is that I know what Sylvia wanted and I know she finally got it. I commend her the strength she had in going through with it but at the same time I curse her for leaving the world the coward's way...
03B0E900-3553-B642-0C2B-6B0309EE90F0
1.02.28
15.9.10
Jung Would've Laughed...
I dreamed about bad poetry and old high school gyms all night. I also dreamed that my old boss got a promotion and was moved into the basement. The faculty down there was dirty. One of them was an FBI agent wearing a wire. They almost killed him until I hit one of the glass walls with a baseball bat. The climbing wall was made out of pvc, plastic and duct tape and little kids slept in the folded up bleachers. Maybe Freud would laugh too.
Dreams aside, I've started to get a complex that the world it out to get me. I know that sounds crazy but if you can't sound crazy in your diary where can you sound crazy. The only people who read this understand that I was already crazy years ago anyway. Anyway, when I need to do homework the internet quits, when I want to clean the house the kids go on strike. It is as if every time I want to get something accomplished some thing goes on the fritz, as if I'm still in a dream. A very frustrating nightmare. I know my shrink (and probably Freud, too) would say that my need to control the world around me is short circuiting the things I most wish to control. My kids represent my ability to control my family's future and ensure they grow up to be good, well rounded people with stable futures. The internet represents my need to have stability in my life where the bills always get paid, the power is always on and we always have a roof over our heads. Despite my best attempts I just can't seem to keep my bills paid on time. Maybe that has something to do with the strange current of incoming funds that seems to dry up suddenly, or maybe it has to do with the fact that I tend to spend money on stupid shit instead of important things.
I think Jung would see this as a stage in my process of individuation. I'm recognizing the issues lodged deep in my psyche and now I just have to figure out a way to fix 'em. And I do recognize, as I mentioned in my last post, that I'm controlling and co-dp. I guess I'm also a little high strung and over-dramatic at times. (The world is out to get me?)
By the way, its really hard to take the morning seriously when the sun hasn't even gotten up yet.
Dreams aside, I've started to get a complex that the world it out to get me. I know that sounds crazy but if you can't sound crazy in your diary where can you sound crazy. The only people who read this understand that I was already crazy years ago anyway. Anyway, when I need to do homework the internet quits, when I want to clean the house the kids go on strike. It is as if every time I want to get something accomplished some thing goes on the fritz, as if I'm still in a dream. A very frustrating nightmare. I know my shrink (and probably Freud, too) would say that my need to control the world around me is short circuiting the things I most wish to control. My kids represent my ability to control my family's future and ensure they grow up to be good, well rounded people with stable futures. The internet represents my need to have stability in my life where the bills always get paid, the power is always on and we always have a roof over our heads. Despite my best attempts I just can't seem to keep my bills paid on time. Maybe that has something to do with the strange current of incoming funds that seems to dry up suddenly, or maybe it has to do with the fact that I tend to spend money on stupid shit instead of important things.
I think Jung would see this as a stage in my process of individuation. I'm recognizing the issues lodged deep in my psyche and now I just have to figure out a way to fix 'em. And I do recognize, as I mentioned in my last post, that I'm controlling and co-dp. I guess I'm also a little high strung and over-dramatic at times. (The world is out to get me?)
By the way, its really hard to take the morning seriously when the sun hasn't even gotten up yet.
03B0E900-3553-B642-0C2B-6B0309EE90F0
1.02.28
Labels:
Bad Poetry,
Co-Dependency,
Dreams,
Freud,
Individuation,
Jung,
Stability
14.9.10
Hangs her head in shame...
Ok, so I've been a horrible blogger and an even worse diary updater. Usually when I've gone this long before updating I give a really long recap post so you all know what has being going on. This time I'm not. Sorry but here is the recap: Shit happens. And it happened to me. A lot.
I'm working on two things in my life right now, my need to control not only every minuscule detail in my own life but also those around me, and my co-dependency (from her on out referred to as co-dp). I'm pretty sure these things go hand in hand but if I chose to take them as two small problems instead of a giant humongous single problem, its less overwhelming. I'm reading a bok called "Co-Dp No More". I'd love to say I'm no longer trying to control everyone around me but I haven't made that much progress. I have made enough progress to recognize that I am a controlling bitch that suffers from roughshod insanity when things are out of whack. So that is some kind of progress.
In school we are studying the Confessionalist poets Lowell, Berryman, and Plathe. I realized shortly after we started that they too suffered from roughshod insanity. A ton of poets and writers were. Completely, shithouse insane. I feel like I'm in good company. This is a good realization in my life because by recognizing the problem we can take steps to solve it, right?
In the meantime, I feel fall in the air and I love it. I want for it to be mosquito and allergy-less.
I want the smell of pumpkin on my hands, the smell of chimney woodsmoke and fresh baked bread. I want everything that is fall. Summertime has officially become a doo-doo head and needs to go to away. I think I want to use this as my commonplace book. I have been keeping my commonplace book in my backpack but it is giant and heavy and it makes so much more sense to post it here. A commonplace book is a journal filled with art and poems, stories and vinettes written by you but also by people that you admire. Its like a collection of moods and emotions. I've never done one online before and I think it might be tricksey but I'm going to work for it.
I found a long lost friend on facebook and she accepted my friend request but now she ignores me and doesn't answer my wall posts. Ok, I can see being pissed off at me and I totally understand holding a grudge but why accept my friend request? Why not just ignore it? Another friend that is still kind of angry at my treatment of her in highschool accepted my friend request with the caveat that we not talk about the past. That makes complete sense to me and I respect her for it immensely. We've both grown and become different people so it is important to leave the past behind us. Maybe I'm reading into it, maybe the more recent add is not still mad at me from high school but is just too busy to respond. I'll set it on a shelf and let it stew a little bit.
5 days until my birthday. Thirty four. This number doesn't hold any fear or angst for me. I just really don't give a shit. I remember when I was a kid, every morning on my birthday my mother would ask, "So, do you feel any different?" I remember I always tried very hard to reach down inside of me to find a 'differentness' but I never could find one. I guess the last couple of years I've just stopped looking for the element of change inside of me. I am changing all the time, making myself a better person; more spiritual, more giving, more patient. My age doesn't have anything to do with that. Wisdom comes with practice not with time. Again, I guess those go hand in hand.
I'm going to apply for a job. I know this ruins my "June Cleaver" credibility but to be honest the house doesn't stay any cleaner with me being home than it would if I were bringing money to help pay the bills. My house is a shambles. I'm sorry. It will be clean when I retire. I've have one of those spectacular perfectly clean and tidy homes when I retire. Right now I'm doing what is important: Helping Keira learn to writer her letters, helping Ari with her spelling lists, helping Donovan with his "Allow ballcaps to be worn in school" petition, and keep my own grades up.
Next? Maybe a poem.
I'm working on two things in my life right now, my need to control not only every minuscule detail in my own life but also those around me, and my co-dependency (from her on out referred to as co-dp). I'm pretty sure these things go hand in hand but if I chose to take them as two small problems instead of a giant humongous single problem, its less overwhelming. I'm reading a bok called "Co-Dp No More". I'd love to say I'm no longer trying to control everyone around me but I haven't made that much progress. I have made enough progress to recognize that I am a controlling bitch that suffers from roughshod insanity when things are out of whack. So that is some kind of progress.
In school we are studying the Confessionalist poets Lowell, Berryman, and Plathe. I realized shortly after we started that they too suffered from roughshod insanity. A ton of poets and writers were. Completely, shithouse insane. I feel like I'm in good company. This is a good realization in my life because by recognizing the problem we can take steps to solve it, right?
In the meantime, I feel fall in the air and I love it. I want for it to be mosquito and allergy-less.
I want the smell of pumpkin on my hands, the smell of chimney woodsmoke and fresh baked bread. I want everything that is fall. Summertime has officially become a doo-doo head and needs to go to away. I think I want to use this as my commonplace book. I have been keeping my commonplace book in my backpack but it is giant and heavy and it makes so much more sense to post it here. A commonplace book is a journal filled with art and poems, stories and vinettes written by you but also by people that you admire. Its like a collection of moods and emotions. I've never done one online before and I think it might be tricksey but I'm going to work for it.
I found a long lost friend on facebook and she accepted my friend request but now she ignores me and doesn't answer my wall posts. Ok, I can see being pissed off at me and I totally understand holding a grudge but why accept my friend request? Why not just ignore it? Another friend that is still kind of angry at my treatment of her in highschool accepted my friend request with the caveat that we not talk about the past. That makes complete sense to me and I respect her for it immensely. We've both grown and become different people so it is important to leave the past behind us. Maybe I'm reading into it, maybe the more recent add is not still mad at me from high school but is just too busy to respond. I'll set it on a shelf and let it stew a little bit.
5 days until my birthday. Thirty four. This number doesn't hold any fear or angst for me. I just really don't give a shit. I remember when I was a kid, every morning on my birthday my mother would ask, "So, do you feel any different?" I remember I always tried very hard to reach down inside of me to find a 'differentness' but I never could find one. I guess the last couple of years I've just stopped looking for the element of change inside of me. I am changing all the time, making myself a better person; more spiritual, more giving, more patient. My age doesn't have anything to do with that. Wisdom comes with practice not with time. Again, I guess those go hand in hand.
I'm going to apply for a job. I know this ruins my "June Cleaver" credibility but to be honest the house doesn't stay any cleaner with me being home than it would if I were bringing money to help pay the bills. My house is a shambles. I'm sorry. It will be clean when I retire. I've have one of those spectacular perfectly clean and tidy homes when I retire. Right now I'm doing what is important: Helping Keira learn to writer her letters, helping Ari with her spelling lists, helping Donovan with his "Allow ballcaps to be worn in school" petition, and keep my own grades up.
Next? Maybe a poem.
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