It's too much

I can't concentrate. The depression is very bad. I am doing my best for my daughter, but sometimes I just can't take it. I never imagined raising a child would be so hard; I'm not cut out for it. I would say this is still ppd, but it's been over 14 months now.

No, this is me. Never happy no matter what; even if I get everything I want. When my lover was here, I could disassociate with him; now I have nothing to disappear into. Just me getting sick, little one getting sick, watching my husband be energized and happy. I feel very much on the outside, locked in a glass cage. Sometimes I want to howl with my little one, when she screams, I want to do it, too. I want someone to take care of ME. I'm so exhausted, in every single way. I haven't been able to lose the weight from my pregnancy, I can barely move at the end of each day. My hormones are still a wreck; I have the hunger of pregnancy but I'm NOT! I don't understand what's going on.

I need to say to someone that I have started drinking a little. Sometimes my nerves are so shot, when the fussiness won't stop, when I'm alone with my daughter and I am depressed. I drink whiskey or rum. A swig or two, just enough to put a damper on the despair. I did last night. I did a few nights before. I need to talk to someone, I'm hurting inside, like a sword stabbing me in the the stomach over and over again. I'm back on the seroquel for sleep and anxiety, and I'm afraid I might end up doing something.

I don't understand--everything seems to be going fine. I mean, my daughter is healthy and well-adjusted and on track in every way. My career is going fine, I'm very involved in my other "career" and am doing fantastic things. I have plans for going to New York for a conference next month, then a beach vacation in June, then London in the fall.

So I just don't understand why I want to drive my car into an electric pole. I am fighting the urge physically to do this whenever I'm behind the wheel. I have to be constantly vigilant. And when I discovered whiskey about a month ago, I was so relieved. Finally, something to dull the pain. I do when my husband's around and he doesn't even notice. He's so entranced with my daughter, he doesn't notice much.

When my lover is here, I feel wanted. It gives me a reason to look forward to time. Right now, I can only see the endless routine of the days. Little sleep, little food (and I don't lose weight!!), exhaustion by 4PM, then I have the hardest part of my day ahead of me. It goes on for hours. Any time by myself is spent fretting about the lack of time. Piles and piles of laundry and dishes and bottles and spilled food. I am so tired, and this is not going to end, not for a long, long time.

Spot on...and lasting gifts from my soul twin

I was absolutely right. The box was filled with papers that I had collected during my teenage years. I had forgotten about all this in any case, and really, I'm just going to toss it all because it is meaningless now. The insult that my father had intended hurt a bit last night, but I feel so much better today. I can picture him crying while he packed the box, acting like I'm dead. Then being angry and threatening me through the airwaves. There was a letter from him, but I ripped it up. I have no wish to engage. Now, THAT'S something completely different.

Funny, all these papers were from my Jewish youth group years. And now that I've been baptized, and I feel so differently, they simply don't mean anything to me. I mean, I remember that time fondly, the friends I made, the closeness I felt toward them, but the Jewishness was never part of my heart. God WAS, but the Jewishness was on the surface. Not at all how I feel about being a Christian.

It's mind-blowing sometimes; I keep thinking about the process of conversion and it had everything to do with my soul twin, the soul who I love and hate at the same time, but who will always be part of me. And he also, on a more earthly plain, came up with the name for my blog (not this one), which is now a vibrant community on a specific topic. It has been thriving lately and I have purchased the domain name. And the title is apt and creative and is a perfect mesh of him and me. He is a fanciful, imaginative man, and I honor that part of him.  Both of these things are like a living piece of him that makes me happy and fills a void in my life. He may be gone, but his soul is still at work with me, and probably always will be.

The assault continues...

And the assault continues. Yesterday, I found a huge package on my doorstep, FedEx. I assumed it was just the monthly shipment of diapers and wipes, and I left it outside. This morning, however, I flipped it over and glanced at the return address. My father. And this one was addressed to me. I was, frankly, stunned. I mean, what the hell? What the HELL is going on?? Dh has a theory--that he expected me to come running back after a while, all full of apologies, ready to give in and offer to give myself away yet again. And I haven't. It's been over a year, and I haven't budged. I have stuck to my principles and self-worth, and it's driving him crazy....hence the assault, comprised of trying to insult me through gifts to my daughter, ad nauseaum. And now this.

I believe he's right. I don't know what's in that box, and I don't want to touch it. The thought just occurred to me that it might be anything of mine from my childhood that remains in his condo, just to let me know how furious he is with me. I'm going to let DH open that box. If I'm indeed right, fine. If not, I want him to give whatever it is to charity. Our porch storage closet is packed with gifts he has sent to my daughter, just waiting to go to Goodwill. She has enough toys and clothes from people who LOVE her. We are well off, we can afford to buy her toys and books and clothes and we need NOTHING from him. I've waited all my life to get to the point when I can announce that I don't need his money. I DON'T NEED HIS MONEY. EVER. AGAIN.

Fuck you, dad.

And for anyone else who thinks I'm not strong enough to hold out and value my self-worth, fuck you, too.

I have all the protection I need. A husband who would fiercely defend me to the death, emotionally and proudly, and has been military-trained.  And a lover, military-trained, technically proficient, and a Tai Kwan Do black belt. My daughter and I will be JUST fine.  

Rough ride

It's been a while since I've posted. I've been through a pretty rough ride, what with depression rearing its ugly head again. Sometime I feel such a desperate sense of hopelessness and being "blocked in" by life. I should be so thrilled being a mother, but I am not finding the joy I had hoped. I don't have a natural sense of playfulness and I simply want to be alone sometimes. I'm not a bad person for feeling this way; I suspect this is part of the depression disease that I inherited.

On a positive note, I am not acting helpless about the depression, which would be my normal modus operandi. I am trying to be as proactive as I can, with my husband's urging. I am signed up for another intensive weekend-long therapy retreat in May. Thank goodness. I've been a long time out of therapy, but I am still involved, if you know what I mean. Also, I finally found a church I can live with. I attended last Sunday and it felt better. I felt relieved and refreshed for the first time in a long time. The church's motto is "church for people who don't do church" lol, the perfect hook for reeling me in. It reminds me a lot of my last church, but it is quite different. I'm not sure I'll ever find another pastor as radical as my last one, and it was his uniqueness that drew me in. But I've grown up since then, and I can handle a pastor who is a little more conservative now.

So, between an upcoming therapy retreat and a new church, I'm doing much better. I'm also doing well in my career, have been asked for another interview, am busy as a bee and absolutely love it.

My lover seems to be doing well, too. I saw a photo of him the other day and he actually looks healthier and heartier being deployed than he did at home. I have thought a lot about his lifestyle and have come to the conclusion that it probably isn't the best for him, but he will take himself out of it when he's ready. Living alone in a townhouse, dark brown curtains over the windows, hanging out on the internet much of the time...I know he's got a porn addiction problem, as he has admitted as much to me. Overseas, he's always with people and can't hole up in his den like he does at home. He looks happier and livelier. I don't know if our association is such a good thing for him...I haven't looked at it this way before. I know it's been what he's wanted, but is it healthy for HIM? I have to admit, it probably isn't. And as much as I dread him letting go and moving on, I'm watching and waiting to see what would be best for him. I really do care, deeply.

Healing dream

My lover has arrived safely and is fine. I am hugging his correspondence- like a precious secret- to myself, a sunny place to bask in when it is dark. I love how he began: "Hey, gorgeous"...how often does any one say THAT to me? He thinks about me, he's planning for our reunion in a few months..."just you and me, together all night..."  He makes me crave him, just from words alone. Just thinking about him. Such a beacon of light. Still so humble, still doesn't discuss much, but lets our experiences lie between us, unspoken but magnificently potent.

I had a dream last night that healed me in yet another way. Let me backtrack first. The last time I saw him, we accomplished a "forbidden" act. One that another man I had seen before constantly fantasized about, and what I referred to as the "anal rape." My lover was determined to "cure" me of that trauma, for some reason. I don't understand the appeal, honestly. To any man. I just don't understand the appeal. Anyway, he went slowly with me, cautiously, lovingly, consciously. I went along with it because I knew he wanted to try to heal my fear, although I didn't think I could be "cured"; I was so offended by the whole past episode and have a sharp memory of the pain. But last time, he accomplished the impossible. I felt no pain, and after that, had no fear, and experienced pure pleasure. I feel as if I've been set free, the negative memory subsumed by the pleasurable one.

So, last night I dreamt that I had been set free. That I was able to let go of a man I once lusted over, for years. In the dream, this man and I were intimate, and we knew we were only interested in each other for sex. We finally admitted it out loud. I touched him and kissed his cheek and gave him over to another woman, who took him away, out of sight. I knew that they were copulating and I was quite sad, but also relieved and and felt free as a bird. I didn't need him any longer, I was no longer tethered to him like an iron anchor. I set him free, and thus, I set myself free. And while doing this, giving me the strength and courage in the background, as a mirage, as memory, was my lover. The man in the dream (who is a real person) has the same first name as my lover. I can say the name again with a smile on my face, with no sadness or melancholy.

As my therapist and certain friends have agreed, my healing and recovery seems to occur mostly on the sexual level. For whatever reason. I am sure I am not the only person who experiences recovery this way, but for now I feel I am, as I know of no one else.

Beautiful

My husband said out of the blue this morning "I was thinking about all this fighting with your family...You are worth fighting for."

Oh my. Let the waterworks begin!

Full of fear

Alright, it's 3 am and I'm wide awake, having what feels like an anxiety attack. I had a terrible dream that my child was dying. That my husband was the one to be watching over her and reporting to me that she looked terrible. The dream was painful in both that she was dying and that my husband was the one who was closest to her. That part is realistic at least. She adores her daddy and sometimes will only let him pick her up--she will smile at me from his arms, but only there.

He's so obsessed with her. I love that he is so happy and that he is such an amazing father. Sometimes, I still feel sad and lonely though.

I had a horribly disturbing dream a few weeks ago, a fear-based dream that he was sexually stimulated by her. I immediately associated that fear with my past, no question. I still can't get the image out of my head, but I won't describe it here. I'm not sure I could say it in words in any case.

Then, I haven't heard from my lover in, what, two days, and I started panicking that something's happened to him already...I know it's foolish. I am full of fear right now.

Finally, this may sound trivial, but I got triggered today when I gave my boss dates that I want to take off this summer and fall. His response was to say "almost no." There are two plans I had, the first in years, that I really want to do. One is a family vacation to the beach. Our first ever with our daughter. The second is the professional conference in London in the fall, which is so important to me and has kept me going through the depression and difficulty of the past two years. I think I got so triggered because I actually ASKED for something, which I never do. I never feel I am worthy enough to ask for anything, except physical necessity (for example, when I was pregnant). And a no like this hits me in the gut, and reminds me of my worthlessness. Not to mention that I have given this job my all, my everything, even putting my pregnancy at risk. My boss just happens to be a narcissist--how do I attract these people in my life?? It hurts and I'm not completely clear why.

Oh, and add to that my father's manipulative ploy today. The more I think about it, the furious I become. 

It's all enough to prevent desperately needed sleep and give me a throbbing headache.

Back to adventures with a narcissistic father...

I haven't written about the dysfunctional "stuff" for a while because all has been calm on that front. But today, yet ANOTHER package arrived in the mail, for my daughter, from my "N" father. This time, it was simply a Passover alphabet book. No card, nothing. This is infuriating for two reasons: 1) he is still sending her things when he said he wanted nothing to do with her; and 2) he knows I have been baptized and my family is no longer a Jewish one. Therefore, my conclusion must be that he is trying to manipulate once again. It just comes out of the blue, as usual. And I almost fell for the ploy... hook, line, and sinker. Came so close to responding, but my husband stopped me, thank goodness. He's just trying to get a rise out of me, as my thoughtful husband said. When I stopped being so angry and reactive, I realized he was absolutely right. As we've concluded before, the worst hell for a narcissist is to be ignored. So they create drama. Smart husband. Damn smart.

My daughter, almost 14 months now!!, is absolutely thriving. She is HAPPY like I've never seen happy. Loved like I've never seen loved! And is so cute and funny that I am laughing more now than I ever have. She's BEAUTIFUL--a little Irish elf, we call her. Our little Irish elf, for her auburn hair and bright blue eyes and fair complexion. As I've said in wonderment before, umm, where did she come from??? I'm a dark little pixie, a mix of Russian and Mediterranean features... but I gave birth to her, so I know she's mine. LOL DH, though, she's him through and through. His perfect daughter. It's lovely to see them both so happy. It makes my heart melt.

I refuse to let my father manipulate his way into our lives. I have shielded my little girl and it's done wonders. I am a mother tiger, I will never allow anyone to tamper with  my little one. 

Letters from the battlefield

I was right.

And even more, I woke up at midnight and as usual whenever I wake up in the middle of the night, check my email, out of habit. There was a message from him. From the middle of nowhere, half way around the world, telling me that he wanted me, but not in the usual way--much more sensual and possessive than normal. It sounded to me almost like a letter from a soldier at war to his lover, in any war in history. A lonely, anxious soldier reaching out for female comfort back home. It's funny, but I always dreamed of this; I always wanted to be some war-fighting soldier's woman back home who he writes to in order to keep his spirits up. And since he is a bachelor, but seems to feel that same need, it is me. It's yet another fantasy he's made real without even knowing it.

I'm now convinced that he expresses most of his emotions through the need for sex. He has different sexual moods--sometimes for "plain vanilla" sex, sometimes romantic lovemaking behavior, or dom behavior, or experimental behavior, or "klingon" behavior (as I affectionately call it), or kinky behavior...so many different sides to him. I feel he is communicating his feelings to me through sex. And almost each time I've seen him, I say that I have no words, but my body will express everything. That's what makes this so wonderful. Words are shallow compared to the communication of the body.