If Broken Still Strong

Newest post at the top. Aug 3 post is a sticky post. This one is not.

This is post # 1. This post is dated May 1, 2009 and should be in the middle of the posts.

October 5, 2001

9:40pm

Don’t know how many times I’ve picked up this journal only to put it back down again. Too much to do.

Finally did clean off the computer desk and clean up the bedroom. (Sassy’s laying on the couch asleep. She just started snoring.) I also moved the computer to the other side of the desk, so now my keyboard is in front of me. (not that it’s doing that much better for my typos)

Just put in a Loreena McKennitt CD. It has one of my favorite songs — “The Lady of Shalott”. Time to put on the incense. You just have to have that aroma with this music. Ahh. That’s more like it. Plus I love the way this chair hugs me. This furniture was just meant to be mine.

Inspired to delve into polymer clay tonight on the web. Looking at adorable sculptures of fairies and mermaids. Of course I want to do dragons. Would love to do unicorns and Pegasus. Will take some training to get the horses’ bodies down. At least I can do ceramic ones. Need to get to Angels Etc. to see what Becky has. I hope she’s doing well.

(The Lady of Shalott:
“I’m half sick of
shadows”)

The other night Daddy asked the Bible group to tell about an answered prayer. Four people said it was finding their spouse. Thank goodness no one said anything to me then, but tonight Mom did. “Maybe you should try doing what they did.”

“You think I haven’t? I did that ten years ago.”

When you say you’ve given up looking, people always say, “That’s when you find someone.” They don’t get it. A heart can only be broken so many times before it’s beyond repair. I cannot and will not “fall in love” again. Someone falling in love with me frightens me even more. Aside from Tony and Dan who both said they were never in love with me at all, the ONLY guys who have been attracted to me are guys that should be avoided at all costs. Every one of them potential stalkers — and one of them actually was. The only one I actually dated threatened to kill himself when I broke up with him. My response was, “Fine, if that’s what it takes to get you out of my life!” Never occurred to me back then that he might take me with him.

No — I won’t have anything to do with that again, thank you very much.

Of course after this many years, all Mom’s family thinks I’m gay. Why can’t people understand that total independence is more important to me than some kind of sexual relationship? Because, c’mon, if there’s nothing sexual and no attraction, it’s called “friendship”. Nowthat I’m interested in. But of course add in the fact that me and Sassy are set in our ways and not about to change to accommodate someone else. Why do you think I don’t have a roommate? Would love the company but no one else would put up with us.

Do I protest too much? I apparently don’t protest enough or in the right way.

I have very little independence as it is. I am learning to loathe having to do something or compromise myself for no other reason than to keep someone else happy.

Ahh. New CD playing — Celtic Treasure — new incense burning. Okay, Mom thinks I should pray to find someone? “Lord bring me someone who likes this as much as I do, won’t ever make me compromise and who won’t
break my heart.” There is no one who could fit that and I know it. Tony was the only one who came close and he broke my heart. He irreparably broke my heart.

I need to find happiness inside myself, not in someone else. (damn, all I need now is a wine cooler. so much better than soda. but I don’t pay for my own groceries so I have no say in what goes in the fridge)

October 4, 2001

Have I said how tired I am yet? But it’s only midnight. I can’t go to sleep now.

I’m searching my brain. There’s something in here and I can’t sleep until I find it.

Answers

Pooh Bear: Think, Think, Think
They’re in there.

Someone to talk to. Wish I had someone to talk to. Need real human response.

You see, I’m making new friends now. But what good does it do now? Can’t bring these thoughts to them. No answers there. No answers.

Dammit Tony! You used to help me get through this. You made it all make sense.

You made it all make sense.

---

My coffee is making noises. I can hear it. I don’t remember this coffee making noises before. Great, now I’m getting paranoid about my coffee. Need coffee. Need to stay awake.

Couldn’t sleep anyway. MHMR nurse asked me if I’m having racing thoughts.
Am I?

I think I know my problem. I don’t need money. I don’t want money. The only thing I want money for is my purple couch and chair which I will have to pay off. I definitely want other things. My God, the Franklin Mint
just sent me another fantasy catalog. I used to be one of their best customers. If I had the money one of the first things I would do is get my dragon tattoo. So, yes, I want things. But even more I want to do things.

Mom and Dad thought it was so important that I have a larger tv. It’s nice. I like it. It was nice of them to want to give it to me for my birthday. I appreciate it.

But I want a color copier. See, Mom and Dad think a color copier is a waste of money. I can see ways a color copier would not only save money but bring in money. Can a tv do that? (remember past entries? watching tv is
not being lazy. watching tv is “doing something”)

There are people out there who would buy my jewelry. There are people who desperately need a properly — not poorly — designed web site. And I have to waste my time pushing papers around just to make money? I thought I could save enough money. I can’t save any money. I’m able to pay this month’s bills. Barely. I don’t know what I would do come November and December without Mom and Dad. By then I’ll have no money left. But like I said, I don’t really need money. I do have Mom and Dad. Now.

I’ve got to do something. Shrink Art is something I can do that won’t cost a lot. With less than $20 of Polyshrink I can make $400. Only there are other costs. Just keep those costs down and all I need is a market.

October 3, 2001

2PM

Didn’t sleep again last night. Slept a couple of hours this morning. MHMR appointment today then I have to go to Mom’s. Neighbor has her tv on too loud (my ceiling is vibrating) so I turned on some music. Listening to Gibbon. Miss him. Not that I’ve been able to get back to Scarborough but I wish he would come back. Every year I can’t get anyone to go with me. Went a few years ago by myself but that didn’t work out too well. Just couldn’t sit through the shows by myself. So tired of doing everything by myself.
Gibbon just reminded me:

The past is but a mirror
to place in front of
fear.

---

8:30pm

I am burning up I am so upset! I can feel the heat coming off my skin. I actually went out to eat with Mom and Dad. That wasn’t so bad. But then they convinced me to stay at the house for Weds. night Bible study. I have never been so insulted by a prayer in all my life! The old ignorant man who said the final prayer at the end of the evening insulted and put down every person he was asked to pray for and then he started in on other religions. The moment he started I could tell he was going to ramble on so I timed him. He went on for over 10 minutes! I usually ignore this particular type of prayer but this was too bad for words! I simply do not believe in “laundry list” prayers. (and God bless Mommy and God bless Daddy and God bless the President and God bless the mailman . . .) In doing all that, this man asked for blessing for his ” fat daughter” and went on about how she could really lose weight if she wanted to but she still had all that “beef” (his word, not mine) on her, and the prayer just went downhill from there. Aside from dealing with that man, Daddy announced he has decided God is telling him he should not be doing massage. He said he was being a “braggart” and not putting God first while he was in school, so now God doesn’t want him doing it at all. Now that he’s finished school, been through the state test, and received his insurance he’s not going to work at all. Which puts Mom back on my back to get a job.

This is too much for me. One day she says don’t worry about working, just put school first and the next day it’s “go out and get a full time job!” This is why I’m not sleeping.

Went to MHMR today. Told her how bad I feel. I thought I did. She asked me on a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is my depression? I told her 9 1/2. She said, “That’s bordering on hospitalization. That’s when you start thinking about suicide.” and I said, “Yes. Every day.” Then she said, “Well you’re still functioning so you’re doing okay.”Functioning? How? I’ve lost 2 jobs because I couldn’t wake up. I couldn’t wake up because of my depression. Right now I’m as hyper as any manic I’ve ever known. Anything is going to throw me into a frenzy. That stupid old man made me want to jump up and hit him tonight. (I actually did lunge forward but I caught myself.) Okay, so I’m doing okay because I didn’t hit him. I didn’t lash out. I just left as soon as “polite society” would allow. (can’t just get up, grab your things and walk out during the middle of a prayer, no matter how long — it just isn’t done)

I shouldn’t have allowed myself to become that upset! I am surrounded by those people and I blow them off all the time. Okay, maybe I didn’t lash out. But I am seething inside — and holding it in. Is that any better?

I’ve shifted into auto-pilot. (for those who don’t know Ghost is autopilot) I do what I’m told and try to stay out of trouble by avoiding it all together.

But I’m breaking. The slightest little thing could set me off and I don’t know which way it’s going to go. How can I sleep?  There are decisions to be made here — big decisions. And I’m not thinking too clear — just listen to some of the things I’ve been saying! Total nonsense!

Okay Kathy, get it together.

Number one: School is priority.
Why? Just where do I think it’s going to take me? (therapist) asked me going in — What if you get to the end of it and discover this isn’t what you want to either?

The thing is — I know. I know what I want to do. And what I’m learning could easily be a part of that.
Two things:

1. Business, and
2. To create

They are what keeps me going. I get up in the morning thinking “What can I create today? What new design will I discover?” and if I can’t create, I don’t get up at all. I’m creating right now. Writing is creating.
Creating thoughts.
Conveying my creation.

My mind creates.
Design conveys.

Business
Not business management. I firmly believe many companies need to throw management out and just let the people do their work. Good management, no. But there’s not that much good management out there.

No I mean business. Going out there, finding a need and filling that need. OR even better — creating a need.

Having 10 different people in an accounting office generate 10 different reports on one account, and all reports say the exact same thing, is not filling a need. That was my job at (big downtown company). One man would generate a report — give me a print-out of his report — I would plug his numbers into my computer for my own report — if my totals matched his, I would print it out and send it on to the next woman whose report was
just like mine in a different format. I could have easily set up a database that would output all those numbers for each report from just one file. And it all came down to “this much money moved into or out of this account yesterday.” No one analyzed any of it, checked it against other days activity or used it in any way. “Hey, my numbers matched . . .I did my job . . . file it and do it again tomorrow.” No one ever even looked at it. But, hey, they were a multi-million dollar company . . .who am I to say it’s bad business? I just knew it was a waste of my time.

Waste of my Time

Going to work is a waste of my time. Sleeping is a waste of my time. Putting on make-up is a waste of my time. Coloring Shrink Art is not a waste of my time. Especially now. My Shrink Art has a purpose. Which gives me a purpose.

Okay, so what else can my rambling mind come up with?

Right now I’m wondering why I bother to edit this at all? No one’s reading it. That email link might as well stay dormant. I’m not writing for an invisible audience, I’m writing for a nonexistent one. Okay, here’s a good
one. Just look at my handwriting! No, wait! You can’t! This is all typed!

It’s after midnight. Continue on tomorrow with this one long meandering thought . . .

October 2, 2001

1:30pm

Time to write. Got out of going anywhere today too. I didn’t think I wanted to work, but Mom mentioned a possible position that would be perfect. Our church might need a new part-time secretary to work two days a week. I would love that job! I not only could spend most of my time on school and my business, but I would already know that I get along with the people I would be working with. I’m always afraid to hope out loud.

---

I’ve just made an important crafting decision. I’m going to devote my time to my Shrink Art. (of course I’ll still paint and draw, but I’ll always do that) What I mean is I’m going to plan my crafting business around my Shrink
Art and working on my book. If I’m going to write that book I need to devote myself to it.

---

9:10PM

I’m getting so good at lying. “Yeah, Mom, I’m doing fine.” I am so very not fine.

Someone inside is screaming for help. Please! I don’t know what’s wrong! Please help me! Make it stop! Make it all stop! Screaming. Helpless. I can’t think — I can’t see! So confused. I don’t know where I am. I don’t know the way home. So dark. I’m lost. I just want to go home.

Inside I’m shaking so hard I can hardly stand up. On the outside I appear calm. Fine. Okay. Nothing’s wrong.

I wake up in the middle of the night. Walk through my apartment. My apartment? No, that’s not possible.No one else is here. It must be mine. I have a purple couch. I wonder when I got a purple couch.Not long ago they tell me. Oh. Them. Hello. I was just locked in a room screaming for someone to come. Then I was here in this apartment. How long have I been here? A few years they say. I could give a whole new meaning to “the years rolled by”.Flashes. Lights. They say these are my memories. How? I just found myself here. I don’t remember — things are so unclear. They tell me I should go see (therapist). But I can’t. She will come. Now I know. These are her
memories.

---

I tried — I really did. But I can’t –

I feel her confusion. This is all so strange to her. New. Disconcerting.

I can’t continue. I am not the one she spoke of. Her. I know her too. Somehow she never fails to come. Just as I’m about to open my mouth and cry out there she is. She won’t let anyone cry for help. She knows what will happen.

It’s all logical to her. “Yes, the medicine works. . . Yes, the therapy is helping.” Appease them. Keep them happy. Placate them. “You know the consequences if you don’t.” Yes. Angry words, upset tones. “Why do you do this to us?” they accuse.

Do this to you? I’ve done nothing to you! I’m the one who’s breaking apart!

It does no good to cry out. It only makes things worse for us. (hey, I’m thinking about starting the fan club back up!) I’m keeping us busy. I shower every day and put my contacts in so we can see better than with the glasses. Did you know I enrolled us back into school. You did well in school. Remember?

---

Is she talking to me? Do I remember? How long has it been? Two weeks? Two months maybe? Eleven years.

---

Things are bad for us now. I have to hide. There are new ones — you don’t know. They keep the woman calm somehow.

She doesn’t accept me — would never accept you! She says we take “her” Kathy away. When I talk to her as myself she calls for this “Kathy”. When that other one cries, she tells her to go away, bring “her Kathy” back. But these little ones . . .she’s different with them. When they’re around she doesn’t show her anger. She tells them things she won’t say to the rest of us. She doesn’t know we’re always listening.

---

The woman? Mama? But she helps me — oh, no, wait. That was only when the boyfriend was around. He’s gone now. She must have gone back to her old ways. The way she treated Kitty . . .

---

She’s worse. And to go for help now would alert her that we’re here. We live in secret again.

I play the part like I’m supposed to. I do what I’m told and hide when I can. I can’t go back to the way things were, but I can make it appear that way. Who knows — if I keep up appearances long enough maybe I’ll forget again. I forgot before. I can do it again.

But I don’t want to be forgotten! Is there no way I could make someone hear me?

(you’re doing it
right
now
alone in your room
someone’s listening
talk to her)

---

Someone has rearranged my books.

---

too late . . . they’re all gone . . . just me now.

---

(okay, just for the sake of the web site, here’s a little help interpreting:
You just listened in on a private conversation.

current “Kathy” — the one Mama cries out for

Ghost

not sure — college age, I think — early college, before Tony

Whisper (new name, old voice))

October 1, 2001

12:10AM

There — now it’s October 1st, so I can officially start using the new calendar. I’ve been doing it again. Cleaning. I don’t know what possesses me sometimes. I even put all my colors away. And I completely cleaned off the kitchen counters. What’s wrong with me?
I spent a large part of the day yesterday cleaning too. Last night after I washed my face I even cleaned the bathroom sink and counter. What’s next? The computer desk?

email:
Hey!
Dear [...],
What’s the reason you’re not talking to me? Is this it — are we not friends anymore? Could you call me and tell me? Or reply to this email? Want to hear from you.

Will mail it in a couple of days when my neww dial-up account is set up.

This is it. I have no one. Mom and Dad are totally warped.

(Mommy’s alright
Daddy’s alright
They just
seem a little bit weird
Surrender
Surrender
But don’t give yourself
away)

Star Touch Designs
What makes my company
different?
The diversity of unique and original handmade items.

(long boring business plan)

2:30AM

Don’t want to go to bed. Enjoying my private time.  Enjoying the quiet and the solitude and the fact that I’m deciding what I do.

First thing in the morning it will be Mom’s time. Calling me every few minutes. Telling me what to do, when, and in what order. Deciding what time I wake up, when I eat and when I have to be at the house. Directing my day.

That’s what I enjoyed about Sunday. I decided what I did all day — I didn’t have to do what she told me to do.

3:40pm

Sure enough, Mom called me at 8:00 this morning to get me up. She’s still upset over not being able to dictate my day yesterday. She said very sarcastically (picture her throwing her hands up in the air) “Do whatever you want to do. I can’t make you do anything!” Not for lack of trying Mom. Hey, I just thought of a way out of going over there tonight!

10:50pm

It worked! I just told Mom my allergies were too bad to go outside. Which is the truth. Saturday my eyes were watering and itchy every time I got in the car.

Good news! Daddy finally got his insurance so he can start doing massage now. We were beginning to think he wasn’t going to do anything. He kept saying he wasn’t ready to start massage — that he wasn’t good enough. (wonder where I get it from?) He’s going back to the massage school to work as a graduate. Now maybe he and Mom will stop fighting all the time. Now it’s not so urgent that I go to work.

Mom is right. I sometimes don’t want to go to work right now. I go and I say to myself — This is it? This is my reason for getting up in the morning? And it isn’t worth it. That’s what happened at (big downtown company) (Ex-co-worker) had been there for 5 years. And I thought –This is what I’m going to do for the next 5 years and longer? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t stay one more day.

Working your tail off for someone else should not be the end-all – be-all of your life. That’s what Daddy did. He was so lost when the plant shut down. That was all he’d ever done for the last thirty-something years. That was all he knew. And he was the best at what he did. That’s his problem now. He’s not the best so he doesn’t want to do it at all.