I'm having a bit of a rant today, because it matters to me that my feelings don't matter enough to my doctor to bother to speak to me on the phone, and then yell at me when I am in her exam room!
I had an appointment all set up in advance, arranged to get a ride, and when I realized last week that my pills would run out the day before my appointment, I phoned, got passed around from one person to the next for an hour or more, finally leaving a voicemail letting her know what the problem was going to be in having to wait over 24 hours without meds.
When her receptionist phoned me back, after more phone calls this week, yesterday [one day before the appointment] she told me the dr insists on doing my lab work before letting me have any refills.
No choices, no pills until after my appointment. by that time, I was already in pain from waiting for the call back, and even stopped by the pharmacy on the way home from group therapy, only to find nothing waiting for me.
I was a little short with the receptionist, God forbid! I said "I don't appreciate being made to suffer until the appointment, but I'll tell the dr that when I see her."
I never raised my voice, I just said it was a problem for me.
Well, when I go even one hour past pill time, the pain levels start creeping upward, so after being in agony all night, not even able to sit at the computer and play games or chat with anyone, it hurt too much to sit here, and after never getting any sleep due to pain....... until I finally conked out around 10 am, my alarm was set for 11:30, so I reset it for 1:00pm.
O.k., pain coupled with a severe asthma attack in the middle of the night, and the weather from hell...... I was barely able to walk into the dr's office when Hellen took me there.
So, I got my blood pressure and weight, and the dr came in and yelled at me for being cross with her staff!
I just started crying. I don't just feel horrible, I have far worse depression when I'm in pain.
it was just awful. She mistakenly thought I was still taking the meds that made my vision blurry, although I told her 'staff' well over a month ago I had to quit taking it.
Communication!!!!
nobody knows what that is anymore. maybe they never did.
So, she forced me to suffer for my own good, with the erroneous notion that I was still consuming a dangerous drug.
NOW I can have blood work once a year instead of every 6 months.
Bozo bitch.
I called and left a short voicemail for my therapist, since she needs to know when I suffer worse depression, and it did get bad. I had to make sure my sharp knives are in the drawer and not on display in the wooden rack, so I could go to the frig without wanting to slit my wrists.......
I am determined to survive, in spite of the crap that keeps kicking my ass.
I am starting to feel a bit better, but it still hurts badly under my right arm in the ribs, as well as my back, and my right shoulder......
worse than all of the other pain.
******************************
one good thing, my oldest daughter and I had a few good conversations today. it helps to know somebody cares that I'm hurting and depressed and anguished.
I DID tell my dr that I have major depression and anxiety and such, and that my rides are so terribly much harder to arrange, but I still think she was out of line to insist that I wait JUST IN CASE I failed to show up for the lab work! When in doubt, ASK ME!!!!!
I had to put off most ordinary housework, and finally managed to bathe my dog tonight [emergency pooh-stink] but it killed my back so badly! it's a good thing she only weighs 5 pounds.
*************************
speaking of weight, I have lost 14 pounds dieting since july first.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
agony
I can't be unbroken. I can't have my baby boy back. I have my son, but he will never be a baby again. I have dreams, when I CAN sleep, of all of my children being toddlers or infants or very small children, and it kills me when I need to wake up to roll over, and I realize my Gracie is dead, my son is 44 years old and I can never go back and be who I was meant to be.
The motherhood I had in my heart was ripped away for no sane reason, I was smacked down, battered and broken, every damned time I tried to defend myself, I got beaten down verbally or with fists and with knives held to me throat by one damned parent or another. HOW DARE they even be called parents?????
I want my baby back day and night, and it hurts me and keeps me from being whole. The lies destroyed me, and it took so long to get my truth back, and time is something that can never return to me. Yes, I have my son, but when he says "Mom", he is usually refering to her. My tormenter, my punisher, my destroyer.
I am Mom. I am crying and moaning for the sweet baby nobody would ever let me call son.
I can't stop crying.
I got angry at my computer for being so slow to get me to where I can pound out these words. Nothing takes the hurt away.
Yes, my pain from Gracie's murder never fades either, and it seems impossible to have this much pain inside.
I know for sure now, why the scriptures say that Mary was blessed, and why we say she was covered with special protection from conception in her mother's womb....... the horrible way women and children are treated in this world, this whole world, as slaves, and sex objects and possessions and kicked around like filth........ the damage done to women and girls is an atrocity that damages the soul so deeply there is no way God could allow the same garbage to happen to HIS son's mother, not for a day, or an hour or a minute....... Mary was blessed by God's grace, and her life was not perfect, but she was undefiled. How astounding it must be to be so absolutely loved as to be undefiled!
How many eons would God have to wait for a child to be born and just loved and protected and not harmed and destroyed by the evil of this world? He knew how disgusting the humans had become, and we could not wait another generation without his intervention. We needed Jesus then, and we sure need him now! Now girls at not just unsafe in their homes, but pushed out into the world unsupervised and predators snatch them up like baby lambs in a meat market. Everyone has blinders on. Our children are NOT safe in our back yards, our playgrounds, our schoolyards and they are not safe in their bedrooms at home or the school houses they go to and their friends are never strong enough, smart enough, fast enough, to save them from the wolf at the door.
We need God to get through our days. We need God to get through our nights. And the evil one creeps into my dreams and kicks me to the curb a few more rounds. Hell can't be soon enough for him.
I have to get out the bottle of Holy Water, and pray again and beg for a moment's peace. A moment where I can rest and know that I won't be that infant being molested by my father while my mother gets her much needed sleep. A moment when I won't be the two year old who is plopped up onto her baby brother's changing table and raped by the bastard who has no right to ever be called Daddy. A moment when I won't be the four year old, tied up in the stable on the cold ground with a knife at my throat because I said "I hate what you're doing." and refused to say I liked it. I refused to lie. I would rather die, and could very well have died for it.
A moment when I will not be the seventh grader going to school dressed to hide the shame and never understanding what was really happening.
A moment when I can hold my newborn son, and name him, and tell him "I'm your Mommy".
He knows I love him. He can never know my pain. and he never should.
He never should have been left alone with my mother's brother, time after time to be molested by that bastard! She knew better. He belonged with me, and I belonged with him.
My daughters deserved to know their brother and not think he was their uncle. My neice deserved to be free from the family garbage falling down on her, as my girls needed to be without bastard 'father/stepfather' men and the whole world full of bastards poised to leap on them, more lambs to the wolves.
I stood up for them. I fought for them. I never had a day go by when I wasn't fighting for their safety. And I took them to therapists, and talked truth with them and let them own their anger and respected their right to kick back at creeps and wolves and devils.
None of should have to.
God, save us all.
The motherhood I had in my heart was ripped away for no sane reason, I was smacked down, battered and broken, every damned time I tried to defend myself, I got beaten down verbally or with fists and with knives held to me throat by one damned parent or another. HOW DARE they even be called parents?????
I want my baby back day and night, and it hurts me and keeps me from being whole. The lies destroyed me, and it took so long to get my truth back, and time is something that can never return to me. Yes, I have my son, but when he says "Mom", he is usually refering to her. My tormenter, my punisher, my destroyer.
I am Mom. I am crying and moaning for the sweet baby nobody would ever let me call son.
I can't stop crying.
I got angry at my computer for being so slow to get me to where I can pound out these words. Nothing takes the hurt away.
Yes, my pain from Gracie's murder never fades either, and it seems impossible to have this much pain inside.
I know for sure now, why the scriptures say that Mary was blessed, and why we say she was covered with special protection from conception in her mother's womb....... the horrible way women and children are treated in this world, this whole world, as slaves, and sex objects and possessions and kicked around like filth........ the damage done to women and girls is an atrocity that damages the soul so deeply there is no way God could allow the same garbage to happen to HIS son's mother, not for a day, or an hour or a minute....... Mary was blessed by God's grace, and her life was not perfect, but she was undefiled. How astounding it must be to be so absolutely loved as to be undefiled!
How many eons would God have to wait for a child to be born and just loved and protected and not harmed and destroyed by the evil of this world? He knew how disgusting the humans had become, and we could not wait another generation without his intervention. We needed Jesus then, and we sure need him now! Now girls at not just unsafe in their homes, but pushed out into the world unsupervised and predators snatch them up like baby lambs in a meat market. Everyone has blinders on. Our children are NOT safe in our back yards, our playgrounds, our schoolyards and they are not safe in their bedrooms at home or the school houses they go to and their friends are never strong enough, smart enough, fast enough, to save them from the wolf at the door.
We need God to get through our days. We need God to get through our nights. And the evil one creeps into my dreams and kicks me to the curb a few more rounds. Hell can't be soon enough for him.
I have to get out the bottle of Holy Water, and pray again and beg for a moment's peace. A moment where I can rest and know that I won't be that infant being molested by my father while my mother gets her much needed sleep. A moment when I won't be the two year old who is plopped up onto her baby brother's changing table and raped by the bastard who has no right to ever be called Daddy. A moment when I won't be the four year old, tied up in the stable on the cold ground with a knife at my throat because I said "I hate what you're doing." and refused to say I liked it. I refused to lie. I would rather die, and could very well have died for it.
A moment when I will not be the seventh grader going to school dressed to hide the shame and never understanding what was really happening.
A moment when I can hold my newborn son, and name him, and tell him "I'm your Mommy".
He knows I love him. He can never know my pain. and he never should.
He never should have been left alone with my mother's brother, time after time to be molested by that bastard! She knew better. He belonged with me, and I belonged with him.
My daughters deserved to know their brother and not think he was their uncle. My neice deserved to be free from the family garbage falling down on her, as my girls needed to be without bastard 'father/stepfather' men and the whole world full of bastards poised to leap on them, more lambs to the wolves.
I stood up for them. I fought for them. I never had a day go by when I wasn't fighting for their safety. And I took them to therapists, and talked truth with them and let them own their anger and respected their right to kick back at creeps and wolves and devils.
None of should have to.
God, save us all.
Friday, July 8, 2011
so many things in the news
A small child is dead and nobody is found guilty of her murder,
a good priest is slandered and caused to be out of a job......
Lies and murder are a kin.
All of it is too horrible. And too familiar. I constantly struggle with the lies my mother told, as well as the abuse my father imposed, and to see so many others cruely subjected to torments every day is a terrible thing.
If only; Truth were the norm, Laws were just, people were kind, promises kept, dignity honored.
I am certainly going to find these things in God's kingdom, eventually. But why do we wait to make these things a part of us every day, every hour, every minute?
The definition of foolishness.
I have been dreaming of babies again, as so many times in my life my babies were taken from me, one way or another, waking from the dreams takes the babies away again. It's very hard.
People wonder why my tv is on all of the time. I need the distractions.
My mind gets stuck in sorrow and dread.
I want a better life, but do not know how to have one.
I want to help others, but have to struggle to help myself. It is easier to help other people.
My youngest sister called today, as she often does, and she lifts my spirits. I am alone too much, and stuck in this rut..... or is it a fox hole for the wars?
I am currently working on my exterior... weight loss is a job to tackle.
Body image is a huge part of being a survivor of childhood sexual abuse.
Wanting to be invisible so my father would leave me alone, followed by the shame my mother imposed on me to hide my condition when I was pregnant.
She would daily tell me to wear dark clothes; they make you look thinner. Keep my coat fastened, so nobody will see how fat I am, hold a pillow on my lap when I sit in the living room watching tv with the family......
wear a girdle every day to school. That was horrible. It was so hard to squeeze into and squirm into and would make me so worn out and sweaty from the struggle. I didn't know I was pregnant, just that I was supposed to be ashamed of my fat belly.
The lesson of being ashamed of my shape never left me. If I can't find very concealing clothing to wear, I do not go outside. Most of my clothes are dark.
Finding out that my father was turned off by fat women was a wonderful revelation to me, if I was even ten pounds overweight, he would stay away from me. He could say some hurtful and cutting remarks about my looks, but it was better than being violently violated. I noticed that most men in the general public leave me alone when I'm fat too, which makes it all that much harder to go into dieting, I want to be left alone. I do want to feel better and be healthier. I have to pray that I can have both; safety and slimness.
Keeping up the fight.
a good priest is slandered and caused to be out of a job......
Lies and murder are a kin.
All of it is too horrible. And too familiar. I constantly struggle with the lies my mother told, as well as the abuse my father imposed, and to see so many others cruely subjected to torments every day is a terrible thing.
If only; Truth were the norm, Laws were just, people were kind, promises kept, dignity honored.
I am certainly going to find these things in God's kingdom, eventually. But why do we wait to make these things a part of us every day, every hour, every minute?
The definition of foolishness.
I have been dreaming of babies again, as so many times in my life my babies were taken from me, one way or another, waking from the dreams takes the babies away again. It's very hard.
People wonder why my tv is on all of the time. I need the distractions.
My mind gets stuck in sorrow and dread.
I want a better life, but do not know how to have one.
I want to help others, but have to struggle to help myself. It is easier to help other people.
My youngest sister called today, as she often does, and she lifts my spirits. I am alone too much, and stuck in this rut..... or is it a fox hole for the wars?
I am currently working on my exterior... weight loss is a job to tackle.
Body image is a huge part of being a survivor of childhood sexual abuse.
Wanting to be invisible so my father would leave me alone, followed by the shame my mother imposed on me to hide my condition when I was pregnant.
She would daily tell me to wear dark clothes; they make you look thinner. Keep my coat fastened, so nobody will see how fat I am, hold a pillow on my lap when I sit in the living room watching tv with the family......
wear a girdle every day to school. That was horrible. It was so hard to squeeze into and squirm into and would make me so worn out and sweaty from the struggle. I didn't know I was pregnant, just that I was supposed to be ashamed of my fat belly.
The lesson of being ashamed of my shape never left me. If I can't find very concealing clothing to wear, I do not go outside. Most of my clothes are dark.
Finding out that my father was turned off by fat women was a wonderful revelation to me, if I was even ten pounds overweight, he would stay away from me. He could say some hurtful and cutting remarks about my looks, but it was better than being violently violated. I noticed that most men in the general public leave me alone when I'm fat too, which makes it all that much harder to go into dieting, I want to be left alone. I do want to feel better and be healthier. I have to pray that I can have both; safety and slimness.
Keeping up the fight.
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