Can I have some?

welcome to my blog.

a place to post. a place to eat oreos. a place to vent. a place to heal.

i started this blog so i could use a different outlet besides munching on fattening oreos. as if that has done any good... *mind wanders to oreo package in the house...*

then i realized that oreos can be semi symbolic. if you are are that crazy about oreos that is. which... i am.

eating oreos is therapeutic for me. when i am struggling or when i need a pick me up. they have chocolate. and sugar. both of which help lift my mood. not to mention that i eat them soaked with milk, which is my miracle drink.

i post my posts to not only get stuff out. there may be people who read my blog who have been in the same kind of situations as i have. i hope reading them and knowing that others have gone through things like i have, will be to you what eating oreos does to me.

and yes. i didn't capitalize anything in here. i just felt like it. deal with it.

munch up.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

To my readers:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry to all my readers who have been worried about me to the point of stress or anxiety. I didn't really realize how disturbing or maybe even suicidal my posts have been until a friend actually pointed it out to me.

I am not going to commit suicide. No it isn't my kids, friends, family, or even my husband that keeps me here. It is the thought and belief in the gospel. The knowledge that my life would be that much worse in the next life than it is now.

And though it isn't much, that is what is holding me here. The desire, no, the need to be accepted in the Lord's sight.

Acceptance is my survival. Without it... I think I may just break. And I need to be accepted again, and again, and again. So I keep trying people. Testing them if they will stick with me 'til the end. So I'm sorry to my readers. And yet I thank you. If you have made it this far, then I realize that I can trust you to stay with me. Even though I may not know who you are, just knowing that there is someone out there listening to my ramblings, thinking about me, maybe even praying for me... is a great help.

I may not feel your prayers or your thoughts. Not in the numb/comatose state that I'm in. But please don't give up on me. Rejection is something I fear the most. And though I know my existence shouldn't depend on my acceptance of others... Knowing ≠ Feeling.

I'm sorry for all of this. Sometimes I wonder if you have the more difficult task, keeping with me though you probably don't see the result of your efforts for a very long time.

And I thank you. Thank you for sticking with me. I'm in for a rough bit of time still I think. But thank you for sticking with me this long.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Before I forget

Conversation after dinner between mother and son.

"Where did all your food go?"

Son points into a wide open mouth and says, "I swallow, and it goes all over and down and down and down," moving his hand down his body to demonstrate, "and then out the bum when I go potty."

At this point in time, my eyes are wide open, with his detailed explanation. No, as far as I know, no one told him that the food he eats turns into pee and poop. I can only assume that he figured it out all by himself. Which shocks me.

I have a smart kiddo.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I'm still here

I'm still alive.

I'm sorry I'm posting only negative these days... I'll have a positive thought at the end of this post. Promise.

I started group again to help me heal from the abuse. And when you clean out a closet, dust arises.

Here's my dust:

I finally found out why I hate myself. I have the incorrect mind set of "bad things happened to me, so I must be bad." And yes. My mind tells me that it IS incorrect. That doesn't make the feeling go away.

So what do I do now? I have no idea. My counselor tells me that I need to battle with the negative thoughts. But how do I do that? It can't be as easy as just deciding that what I have believed my whole life was a lie.

Nevertheless. I'm still here. I'm still kickin'. I'm still fighting.

Last night I didn't really pray. At least not kneeling down. But as I crawled into my bed I sent a last thought up to God. "Please. If you have any scrap of sympathy for me, let me have a good night's rest." Baby slept from 9-8. Approx. Without any milk or formula in his belly. We have been having him on formula at night to help him sleep better. Yet we didn't have anymore last night. Not only that, but Baby woke up cooing and talking instead of screaming. I guess that means that I'm still important enough to God for a little miracle. I still didn't want to get out of bed this morning.

On other good notes:

I called some people about Mary Kay yesterday that I didn't know. They were referrals from one of my customers. And I had a good success with them. I was way excited. I have two parties booked with people that I don't know. Dismiss the fact that I'll probably be practically shaking with fear when I go meet them for the party, but that is not for a bit longer.

Also. Many of you may know that I'm writing a story. I think that I have decided to publish it as a novel instead of my original idea as a manga (Japanese comic book). Not only that, but one of my friends has been planning on starting up a publishing company for a while. He has been reading my story and offered to have my story be his launch title. The whole aspect of that makes me feel like I am going to puke, but it is still exciting me enough to think kind of seriously about it. Though that may be because if I'm working on my story I'm living in a world free of the pain of my life, and that is a very appealing prospect for me. Whatever the reason, I think it very well might happen.

So yeah. Good things happening. The bad things seem almost too overwhelming, but at least there are angels in there with the devils.