Devotional

I forgot to mention before- the other really bizarre, cool thing about all of my discussions with S today- 

My Proverbs 31 devotional this morning was on 'manipulating'. 

The woman talked about how good she was at manipulating things to go the way she wanted. She explained how hard it was to not try to make things happen the way that SHE wanted to, instead of waiting to see what God had in store for the situation. We talk about that in Al-Anon, too- about trying to tell God what he should be doing- trying to take over our Higher Power's job. 

Once again, I amazed at how relevant the Proverbs 31 devotional is to my daily life. Not only do I feel like God is talking right to me in each of these e-mails- since every topic seems to have been tailor made for me and my life situation- but I also realize that these women struggle with the exact same issues that I do. They get emotional, they get frustrated, the try to control things, and they lose it sometimes. I am not the only person in the world who does these things, no matter what he would like to think. Maybe I am different from his mother and his ex-wife, but I am not some crazy, emotionally erratic psycho woman. I am just like everyone else. I have the same fears and struggles and challenges. The difference between me and some people is that I am aware of it, and I am trying to be my absolute best self- without giving up who I am in the process. He was the one who decided I wasn't good enough or getting better fast enough. I am proud of who I am. I am not proud of who I was, but that is the past. If God could redeem King David, and use him for great good, and he can go down in Bible history as one of God's most loved people, then certainly *I* can be redeemed and serve the world for good. I have made mistakes, but none as huge as King David did. Likewise, if Dr. D can overcome the challenges in her life to become who she is today, then so can I. 

I like who I am right now. I like what I am doing, who I associate with and for the most part how I act. What made me miserable was trying to be someone that HE liked. Never feeling good enough and constantly anxious that I wasn't living up to whatever unspoken conditions he had. I shouldn't have tried so hard to make myself what I thought he wanted. I lost myself in the process and became sad and miserable because of it, which he hated. Ironic. The truth is, if he liked me, then he would have liked me... If he didn't like who I was, then there was no point to it any way. I should have stayed true to myself. I should have been doing that for the last 20 years. At least I have figured it out now. 

Owning it

S seemed super sad today… She kept asking permission to go outside over and over again. I asked her several times if she was ok, and she said yes, she was just having an emotional day… 

After a while, I finally went to her and looked her right in the eye and asked her very seriously if she was OK. She couldn’t answer. I asked if she wanted to talk about it. She said no. I hesitated and then said, “Can I give you a hug?” 

She said ok, and put down the mop and let me hug her. I held her tight and rubbed her back.  She took a deep breath, and said, “I’m going to have to go outside again.” That’s when I realized that she kept going outside to cry… 

I told her that was fine, and backed away from her. But instead of going outside, she stared at the floor for a minute, and then said, “I really messed up.” 

I just waited. She said, “I said something I shouldn’t have. I don’t even know why. I love him so much… I don’t even know why I said it. I really messed up… I don’t now why I said it. I guess I just wanted to get a reaction from him. I guess I wanted him to say something or act a certain way.” 

I didn’t ask her what what she said. I paused for a second and then said, “Manipulation.” 

She looked a little shocked- maybe confused, and I explained what I meant. I told her about Al-anon and how we talked about that a lot. That she wasn’t the only person who did it, but at least she recognized that she did. I told her she was ten years ahead of me, at least, so she was ahead of the curve. 

I said, “You get an idea in your head of what you want to happen, or how you want the conversation to go… Maybe you have a whole script in your head. I’ll say this and then he’ll say that… You have something you wish he would say or some feeling you wish he would show, so you think if you say this or do that he will react the way you want. And then when he doesn’t, you are sort of mad at him, and he doesn’t know why. Maybe you don’t either… “ 

She looked shocked that I had gotten into her head, and surprised to realize that what I was talking about was exactly what was going on with her. 

She told me what she had said to him. Something about her son and what he was getting him for Christmas. I said, “Maybe you were looking for him to reassure you that he wants to be a father to your son? That he sees him as his son and not just your kid?” 

She thought about that for a while and said, “Maybe. I don’t know.” 

I told her how I used to do that to T all the time. I told her how he is so reserved and unemotional and undemonstrative, but I am so open and free with my emotions. I told her how often I just wanted so badly to hear him say that he was crazy about me or didn’t want to be without me, or just to feel like he thought I was special. Sometimes, without even realizing I was doing it, I would say something or act a certain way, anticipating a certain response from him. Fishing for compliments. Trying to make him act the way I wanted him to.  But he didn’t. He wasn’t ever going to. 

I said that I finally realized that I either had to accept that he was the way he was, and learn to accept that he wasn’t going to fawn over me or be overtly affectionate or give me compliments, or, if I felt that I couldn’t live without that affirmation from my partner, that I had to let him go and give up. Unfortunately, I realized all of this too late. He was already gone. 

On our way out to our cars a few hours later, I said I hoped she felt better. She said, “I am actually feeling a lot better right now.” 

I thought she had talked to him, but no, he still won’t answer her calls… 

She said, “I made a mistake. I know what I did, and I’m owning it. I messed up, but I learned something about myself, and I kinda feel good about that.” 

I smiled, and told her that I understood exactly what she was saying. That is what the majority of my last three months has been like. 

Then she said, “We’ll see if I still feel the same way tomorrow, when I am spending the day alone…” 

I had to laugh. That is my life, right there. I feel so good about the things I’ve learned, and the progress I’ve made- but then I spend another night alone, and I miss him so much, and I wonder what it was all for. 

Marble 11

Marble 11 is obviously sitting on my plate of Thanksgiving food. :) 

Although, truthfully, Thanksgiving was Thursday, and I didn't take this picture til Saturday, so it is actually a plate of Thanksgiving leftovers. But the point remains. 

This week was great. Only 3 days of work, and then 2 paid holidays! :) 

I love my job. I was a little overwhelmed at first, but I love the residents, and I am starting to get the hang of everyone and everything that needs to be done. 

Thanksgiving was great. The kids were here. They came to visit work with me on Wednesday, because they didn't have school. They ran an activity and played music and brought a bunch of instruments for all of the residents to touch and play with. They did great. 

Then Thursday we took pies to the Fire stations, got lost again, came home, made food, and watched Arthur Christmas, which was a great Christmas movie. 

The next day L had plans with her friends, and wanted to get up early to go get the tree.  The morning wound up going to hell when she started the day off by marching into M's room and yelling at her for using her face wash. I tried to stop her, and she got mad at me. I tried to explain about "Is It Important" and asking her was the face wash really a big enough deal to risk setting M off and ruining the day? But it was too late. M was pissed because she swore she didn't use it, L was pissed because I didn't take "her side" which wasn't even the point of what I was trying to say... I wound up talking to her forever about things. SHe didn't want to hear any of it. I was pissed. Once again, what *I* wanted to do wasn't going to happen, because SHE couldn't just be agreeable, even for someone else. There is definitely still a small part of me that thinks that if she just hadn't been so bitchy that night about what restaurant we went to, that he wouldn't have broken up with me... But then, if he's gonna break up with someone because they had a bad day and argues with their kid, who needs him, right? Like he's not going to have the same issues with his when THEY are 17. Yeah, good luck with that, dude. 

Anyway, I finally decided that the same way we make M stay home and miss fun activities if she is going to be bitchy and refuse to go, that  I should just take M and get the tree anyway. It felt wrong to do it without L, but she made her choice. Her friends were more important. SO M and I went, and had lunch, and it was a lot of fun. I actually can see us getting along better when L is out of the picture next year. I hope so, anyway. 

We got a tree and brought it home and she really worked hard to help me put it up. We had no energy left for anything after that though. No lights, even. I will wait til they get home to decorate it. 

She went to her dad's that night. I watched a Christmas movie and wrapped gifts. The next day I raked / blowed the leaves int he yard for 4 hours. Then at 4:58, realized that the doors opened for the Story Tour concert at 5pm. I decided last second to just GO. I changed my shoes and pulled the leaves out of my hair and left. I made it in plenty of time, and the concert was GREAT. It was inspiring and Christmas-y and I am SO glad that I went. I was proud of myself, too. I went to a huge concert at the coliseum all by myself. 

It was a really good week. 

Marble 10

This weeks marble is in front of a crap load of paperwork, because that is what I spent the majority of this week doing. 

I had orientation, NCI training, a huge manual to go through, tons to study and tests to take, and more employment forms than I have ever seen. 

However, by Friday, it was all done, and I was just a normal, everyday employee.  I still have a few more classes I have to take, but most of the paperwork is done. I am official. 

Step 11

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we understand God, praying only for knowledge of God's will for us and the power to carry it out. 

I chaired tonights meeting. I didn't feel like I did a really good job of bringing the program, but I just don't know a lot about step 11. I just read out of "Discovering Choices" and talked a tiny bit about the fact that the step says: improve our conscious contact with God... Pointing out that those words imply that it is an active choice on our part- not just an ethereal feeling that God is around, but an actual purposeful choice on our part to take time to listen to Him... 

It was a good group. But B was there, and that was fairly awkward. I was super friendly, as thought we were just as much friends as any other person in the room. He broke his foot. The first thing I asked was, "Did you crash your bike!? Tell me you did not crash your bike." .. He said no, it was a bad sky diving landing. Good lord.... The whole time we were there, I was reminded why I don't care for him. He has great things to say and seems very insightful, but as an individual, outside the rooms, I don't see him carrying through with anything he says. He is a player, and not a very good one. He interrupts people, and only talks about himself. And he clipped his fingernails during the business meeting. I just thought that was odd... 

Marble 9

This weeks Marble picture is taken with all of my meds... 

About a week or so after T left, I decided to start taking vitamins and being more vigilant with remembering to take my medications in addition to the working out that I was trying to do every day. 

I take a ton of pills now. One HUGE women's multi-vitamin, 2 fiber pills, 2 vitamin C, 1 allergy pill, 1 biotin, an aspirin, and my thyroid medication. I take all of them at night, except the thyroid pill. I can't take that at the same time as anything with iron in it.  I got a daily pill holder this week to keep track of all of them. 

This week I spent almost every day in some kind of medical environment. I had to go for a drug test, I had to get my TB test done, and then back again to get it read, and while I was there, I talked to the doctor, finally about my anti-anxiety medication. I was a nervous wreck, as I have had some really unpleasant experiences with doctors, and wasn't sure what kind of reaction I was going to get from him. But I went in prepared with facts and knew what I was going to say and what I wanted to ask. I was really happy with how the conversation went, and I was very proud of myself for having the nerve to do it, and crossing one more major thing off of my to-do list. 

This weeks picture is of all of my pills, representing all of the medical stuff I did this week. 

Feelings

The topic tonight was grief.

They talked about how important it was to deal with your grief- to feel your feelings and not keep them bottled up.

I heard people say over and over again that they used to think that having feelings and expressing them and talking about them was bad and wrong, but now they realize that it is vital to their survival and the health of their relationships. Man after man talked about finally learning to talk about how they felt. Talking about things over and over again to work them out, and work through the feelings. They said that you had to accept your feelings and share them- that sharing was the key- but then not allow yourself to wallow in them. But that is was important to give yourself permission to feel- to grieve- so that you could move on and feel everything else in life as well.

I did not speak tonight.

But what I was thinking was twofold…

#1. I was thinking that everything that these people were saying was confirming from what I had already decided over the last few days… I had things to grieve over. I lost my marriage and all my expectations of my future. I had to sit day after day and watch the man I love live and sleep with another woman. I lost my job. Then I lost my love… All of these are things that different people brought up as things they had to grieve for. I am not, by far, the only person who thinks that these are grief worthy circumstances… These are all things that I needed to grieve over. 

I have always, always worked through my emotions and confusion by sharing it. I talk. I know I talk too much, and I take too long to tell a story. But people who love me know that I have to work something out- out loud- in order to get over it. It may take me a few days- or longer. I may say some things, and then think about it for a few days, and have some kind of revelation and need to talk about it again to work it out… When all of these things started happening- I had no one to talk to. The only person I really could talk to was him, because he was the only person on earth who knew the whole truth. But he didn’t let me talk. If I was upset about something and needed to vent or talk about it, he saw it as me taking it out on him. If I needed to revisit something that was still on my mind, he said I was re-hashing an argument from days before- that I was holding on to the past on purpose- that I just wanted to feel bad about it… But the truth is, once I have worked something out and I have accepted it and gotten over it- I am over it. There are lots of things that have happened in my past that I don’t think about at all any more. I got over them. I worked through whatever it was, and I am over it.

If I had had the chance to talk things through, I would have been such a different person this last year.

#2. I kept thinking that I wish he was there. Wishing that he could hear the things the men were saying. About how important talking was. How sharing your feelings is the only way to heal. About how hard it was for them to accept that and start doing it, but now they are new, happy, healthy people and how thankful they are that they found the rooms and learned to feel more than just anger.

So often, I wish he would work the program. I wish he would just go, maybe talk to R, and just listen to what they say. He thinks that it doesn’t apply to him. He thinks that he doesn’t have any active alcoholics in his life, so it has nothing to do with him. He only went as a way to support me. But how could he sit thought all of those meetings and not start to see part of what my problem was? How could he not start to understand why I reacted some of the ways that I did, and realize that there was a reason, and that I was trying so very hard to change? He thinks there is no reason for him to go, but- how much better could we have gotten along if he had used anything he had heard in the rooms to deal with me? He might not have an active alcoholic, but he had me- someone who was completely and utterly immersed in it- totally affected by the ‘family disease’ of alcoholism. All of the ways that we learn to treat the alcoholic could also have been put to great use in learning how to treat and deal with me.

Not only could he have learned how to understand me and deal with me better, but he might have finally learned how to accept his feelings and embrace them, and stop feeling ‘flat’ like he says he does. He will never be really truly happy if he refuses to let down that wall and FEEL what there is to be felt in life. It isn’t all good, I know. But most of it is fantastic. Sometimes, even feeling sad can be good.

I wish he could feel great joy, intense passion, and profound sadness openly. I wish he was willing to try. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy. I wish he could feel it.

Wasted time

At my meeting this week, something really unusual happened…

Two woman who have always been pillars of strength, as far as I can see- who are always happy and together and open minded and completely loving- the only 2 women I have ever considered asking to be my sponsor, because they are truly the people I want to be someday- both cried at the meeting.

One of them had her mother-in-law die that morning. She was sad for her husband, and stressing about how to project the serenity she has found in the program while she is around his family- people who are not in any kind of recovery at all and may be difficult to be around…

The other said something that I was shocked to hear her say, but it really, really hit home for me…

She said that she has been feeling very down lately- thinking of all of the changes she has made- all the recovery and how much she has learned- and mourning the fact that she didn’t learn it earlier… Sad about all of the time she wasted in her life doing things wrong, and how much better of a life she could have lived and the relationships she could have saved if she had known this stuff earlier…

I have been feeling just that way lately… All of the things I have learned in just the last 2 months alone- what good does it do now? I have already screwed up my kids- they are almost grown and gone. And my relationship with him is ruined already. Things may have been so different if I had known these things and made these changes earlier- but it’s too late now… Sure, you could say that this will make me a better person and a better partner when I get involved with someone else… Except that I don’t want someone else. The idea that I am becoming a better person so that I can be a great partner to some other guy does not make me feel better. It just makes me feel sick.

Article

Article on alcoholics and emotions

Doctor

I was talking to my doctor about the possibility of going back on some kind of anti-anxiety medication… We had a very long conversation about my past, my medical history, my family, my circumstances and my attempts to control my anxiety in the past. 

I told him that I stopped taking the medication on my own, quite a long time ago, in an attempt to figure out how much of my anxiety was caused by medical issues, and how much was genuine anxiety, caused by stressors in my life. 

I explained all of the things going on in my life. All of them. I told him about X, and the drinking. About how people didn’t believe that there was anything wrong. I told him about the church and losing my job and why. I told him about the kids and my parents and looking for a job and anything else he asked about. 

I told him that I have stayed off medication until I felt that I had a handle on my personal life- my bills, my finances, my divorce, my job, my issues, working  out every day - and could be sure what was real and what was not. And that now, I truly felt like there was anxiety that was affecting my ability to live normally day by day, that had no reasonable explanation. Anxiety that I woke up with and prevented me from getting out of bed, even when I had nothing to do that day. 

He encouraged me to realize that a chemical imbalance is undoubtedly genetic in my family. My grandfather took prozac every day of his adult life, and my aunt has similar issues. He said that ‘mind over matter’ isn’t going to work in cases like this, no mater what my mother tries to say, and that trying to control it myself will only cause me to feel even worse when I inevitably fail. 

I told him that I am short with people- that I get more upset than I think I should. I said, “You know how your mother used to say, ‘I’ve had it up to here!’ and hold her hand right here?” I said that I feel like I start the day out at almost that line already so that my capacity for dealing with little shit is so low that I lose it way before I should… He understood completely. 

At one point, I told him that I had been dating someone- tried, anyway, but crashed and burned… I told him that the man I had been dating said that I was too emotional. He said that I got too upset about things and couldn’t let things go and that is why he broke up with me.

The doctor made this incredulous face, and said, “With everything you have had going on? Seriously? You would easily score over 500 on the the Holmes and Rahe stress scale. It seems that you have done extremely well under the circumstances. What does he expect?!” 

I tried to back track and say that while it is true that I certainly did have reason to be emotional about things, I did actually think that the ex-boyfriend had a point, and that I probably was too high-strung. 

He looked disgusted. He said, “What do your girls think of this boyfriend?” 

I hesitated, even now reluctant to say anything negative about T… I sighed, “They think he’s an asshole…” 

“I concur.” He stated, very sternly. “Smart girls.” 

This happened today...

So....

I'm divorced.

Anxiety Group

This- Anxiety Group - is a video of Catalina Ferro reciting a poem she wrote called "Anxiety Group"... It is fantastic. It perfectly describes these people like me who suffer from anxiety and don't know why. But in the end, it is actually quite beautiful. I feel like she understands.... In the last few lines, my eyes teared up...

I took it into L's room and played it for her... She laughed in all the same places. And when she heard those last few lines, she looked up at me with tears in her eyes... Yes, this woman understands... 

And I think, 
‘wow, it must be so exhausting to want to live this much.’… 
These people who fight all day like fucking gladiators, 
who fight demons worse than you and I can only dream of, 
just because they want so badly to live, 
to hold on,
to love.
Because you can’t be this afraid of losing everything 
if you don't love everything first. 
Because you have to have a soul crushing hope 
that things will get better
To be this afraid of missing it.

Catalina Ferro - Anxiety Group

Say It Out Loud

Woke up early, got up, decided it was too damned early and laid back down...

Woke up late, got up, made muffins. 

I drove around til I found an open UPS store and mailed the iPad to mom. Sheesh that is expensive. I will not be able to do overnight delivery for T's packages... I am just so impatient. :/ I hate waiting to know how people liked to their gifts. 

When I got home, the girls helped me rake the entire backyard and the driveway, and L mowed over the leaves. I was amazed that no one fussed at all. It was really very nice. 

At 6, I went to the meeting. I was really very anxious, because I had been thinking all week about what I might say if that same couple was there. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to say, and if it was right to plan my sharing based on something that I thought someone else 'needed' to hear, as opposed to what *I* needed to say. I went back and forth on it up until it was my turn to talk. I had decided to not say anything, and then suddenly it was my turn, and only 4 people left, but 30 minutes left in the meeting. So I decided to say it... 

My name is *. My mother is an Adult Child of an Alcoholic, and then she married one. She was so good at what she did, and he was so high functioning and so together that no one had any idea that he had a problem. In fact, I didn’t even realize that he was an alcoholic until a few years ago...  All of those years, I thought my mother was just a bitch. But she was covering for him. Fixing things. Keeping everything together...  

So I went and did exactly the same thing. I married an alcoholic that was so much fun, so personable, so smart, so successful- that no one had any idea that he had any issues. No one would have believed it. In fact, my own mother spent years telling me that I needed to get help for my “spending problems” because X was such a good guy and worked SO hard to make good money and it wasn’t possible that we had bad credit unless I was doing something wrong... He was the awesome, fun, social, drink anyone under the table, make everyone laugh kind of guy... But they only saw him at the restaurant. They didn’t have to go home with him. They didn’t see him at home- angry and yelling and throwing things.... He went to a meeting at church drunk once, and the next day all I heard was how awesome and creative he is and how lucky we all are to have him...  

It didn’t start off horrible. Just little by little, the alcoholic personality crept into things. before I realized what had happened, we were in debt. Bills were never paid. He would lie about having had paid them, so I never knew what was really going on. I woke up every morning in fear that the electricity had been turned off, or the gas, or the water. Every noise I heard outside was someone coming to take away my car...  

He wasn’t just an alcoholic, he was also a sex addict. I tried to be supportive. I tried to tell him that having fantasies was great, but that it wasn’t safe or healthy to try to act them out... But he got deeper and deeper into it. He wanted me involved in it. I lived in complete and utter anxiety everyday- never knowing if he was going to suddenly thrust me into some awkward situation that I would have to try to get out of... I didn’t feel safe in my own home. More than once, I got out of the shower, only to find him in my room with a man whom he had brought over, promising that he could have sex with me. I was afraid of what would happen if I said no, afraid of who I was and what was happening if I said yes. Afraid that someday it would get worse. Someday he would bring some stranger who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Someday my girls would look like women- how much worse would he get? How much further could he rationalize?  

I would have given anything for him to have been a drop dead drunk by 10am kind of guy. I would have given anything I had for him to have gotten a DUI, or lost his license, or lost his job... Just so someone else would have seen it. For just ONE other person on the earth to see him for what he was and to believe me and to stand with me. To just be able to hear one person say that they saw what I was going through. Even if it couldn’t be fixed, Even if I was stuck- just to have anyone believe me. When he was angry, I used to pray that, just once, he would hit me. That he would just get angry enough and lose it just once and hit me. So that I could walk down the street and people would see a black eye, and they would believe me. They would see what I was talking about...  

It got to where all I wanted was to just not have to do it any more. I wished I could just kill myself. I fantasized about it. But if I died, that would leave him sole custody of the girls, and I couldn’t let that happen. So he hadn’t only taken over my life - he had taken away even my option of death. I couldn’t even choose to die because of him. I finally told him to choose between his lifestyle choices and me. Us... He laughed in my face and told me I was ridiculous. And left. And on his way out, he told everyone that I had cheated on him, and that was why he was leaving... And everyone believed him. Why wouldn’t they? He was the fun, happy, social guy, and I was the tight assed, emotional psycho. Obviously he was the one to believe... 

I had been working at a church- so I lost my job. I lost my family, my job, my church, my friends, my support system- all at once. To this day, there are still people in this town who turn their backs and walk away from me when I walk into a room. People at restaurants whisper and point. People have told others to not associate with me because I am a whore and a homewrecker...  

I have no control over these things. I can’t make them better. I can’t make them stop...  

In almost 2 years, I have yet to hear anyone tell that story. In fact, that is the first time in 2 years that I have said any of that out loud... I have heard parts of my story, but I have never met anyone who has gone through the same situation as me...  

But it doesn't matter. We all have felt the same fear, the same anxiety, frustration, hopelessness, and sorrow- even if our stories are different. Every one here knows exactly what I am talking about. Everyone here knows exactly how I feel... And that helps. Just being in a room of people who understand- helps. Every time I come to a meeting, I feel better. I feel like I can handle life better now than I could an hour ago. And I don’t even know why. In 2 years, not a single person has given me advice. No one has told me what to do. But ‘coming back’ has kept me sane. It saved my life and has given me hope. Nothing has changed really in my life or my alcoholic’s life. But I am alive, and I am happy to be alive, and I have happy moments every day- because *I* am different- not my situation. I kept coming back. And it works when I work it... 

It took about 7 minutes to say all of that... I honestly think that people appreciated that I had said it. And when we got around to the man's turn, he actually said something like, "Well, we have problems, but nothing to compared to what y'all are having to go through..." My head snapped up and I looked at * and her head snapped up and she looked at me, and when she knew he wasn't looking at her, she smiled at me, like, "You did it." So, I guess maybe what I said made a difference to the person to whom I was hoping it would. * told me afterward that she thought I was very brave. I didn't feel brave at all. I felt kind of selfish, actually. Like I didn't have any business saying that out loud... I said something derogatory, and she told me, "Stop it!"... 

I went home and got the girls and we went out to dinner. It was nice. It was a good day. 

Marble 8

Boss called and asked me to do the drug test today. Drove to work, got the paperwork, drove across town, and peed for some lady. So, that's done. 

I got home in time for the furnace guy to come fix the ignitor. Again. T has changed it every year I've lived here. This year I'm on my own... At least I have heat now. 

The Ladies Banquet at church was at 6. it was really very nice. I was a little uncomfortable talking to the people around me, but Dr. D was at the table and she is always a doll, so it was OK. It was just the right length of time, too. I appreciated that. The kids got home from a band thing at almost exactly the same time I did. 

I had already decided what I wanted my marble picture this week to be. I wanted to take a picture of my marble in the hand of one of my new residents. I liked the idea of the marble in a wrinkled, old woman's hand... I forgot to take a marble with me to work today, so I thought I would ask Dr. D to hold it for the picture. But then the woman for whom the banquet was in honour got up to speak, and I thought she was a marvelous, inspirational woman. Amazing life. Truly inspiring... So after the dinner, I went to her, explained briefly what the marbles were for, and asked her if I could take a picture of my marble in her hand. She agreed. When I was done, she tried to give it back. I asked her to keep it. I'm not sure that she understood, but she acted honoured, and said she would take good care of it. 

How Long?

How long? How long does it take? 

How long does it take before you stop thinking about someone every day? Until you can stop wanting to see them? Wishing they were there? How long until your heart catches up with your brain, and you stop feeling sad because someone isn't there that you shouldn't be looking for in the first place? 

I looked it up online. I tired to Google it- to find out how long it takes until people stop waiting for someone who is gone. 

The answers didn't help. Most people said that they were still waiting. They just tried to make it through each day, They just try to distract themselves and stay busy. Some of them said they still cried every day, and it had been years... 

How long until I can feel whole again? 

Halloween

I hate Halloween. I never really cared for it as a child. We celebrated it- Mom made us awesome costumes and we trick-or-treated. But it was probably my least favorite holiday. I don't like being scared. I don't like surprises, or things jumping out at me. Some people love that, I understand. But I don't. 

As an adult, Halloween became a bad memory- for a number of reasons- and I started outright disliking it. 

Then, after so many years, I fell in love with someone who loved it. Truly and dearly loved the holiday. It was hard not to get into it when you saw how happy it made him. His father had loved it and it had been a big deal at his house. I started to think that I could get used to celebrating it again. Even looking forward to it. 

Now he's gone, and I have yet another reason to hate Halloween. There are only sad memories and bad thoughts about this day. I did my best, and I had a good time. 

But I am so glad it is over.