Memorial day and a headache

Last week, I was flatly depressed. Mike was so concerned about me, sending me e-mails and calling me frequently. He was staying up late with me to talk. He was comforting me all week, giving me back massages, telling me I was beautiful and great...Still, I was pretty depressed the whole week -- and even angry at God. I wish so much that I could feel confident without a job, but I am having such a hard time. I wish we didn't have debt. I wish we were stable. I wish I had a Master's Degree. I wish we lived somewhere else. So, so many things make me feel inadequate and insecure. This week was very, very hard. And I love Emmett, but it is very hard for me to be a Mom all the time. I am so selfish and equate so much of my value to what I achieve each day. And I know I'm achieving with each time Emmett smiles or with each growth he makes, but somehow I still don't' feel the rush of adrenaline I feel when I'm achieving on something like a project.

Anyway, Monday was calm and we watched TV (The Swan Pageant) on Monday night. I don't want to talk about Monday because it was so depressing.

Tuesday I hit a bird on the way to Gymboree.
I've never hit anything in my life, and as my husband will attest, I am PETRIFIED of hitting animals. I always make him go slowly at night, I'm constantly averting my eyes when I see road kill, and one of my fears is hitting a deer. (no really, it is). So hitting a bird, which was mating and following another bird in a dance, was devastating. I burst into tears. Luckily, Emmett was sleeping and didn't hear me. I called Mike at work and he counseled me through it and helped me get it together before Gymboree. I don't remember what we did that night besides watch American Idol. But I was pretty depressed. Mike prayed and when it came time for me to pray I told God I had nothing to pray.


Wednesday I went to the Orthodox class at the Greek church.
We started going two weeks ago and the Priest gave us a book "The Orthodox Way". It is an AMAZING book and I am learning so much about the faith. During class, I found out that the church is against war, against the death penalty and against birth control. The church does not believe that when you die you go directly to Heaven or Hell, but instead, you to to a waiting place. All of these things make so much sense to me and I got so much out of the class. Of course, it appeared that I was the only one that read the book, so I especially got a lot out of the class because I was participating a great deal. We came home and got into an argument about something, I don't remember what...Oh yes, I remember. We got into an argument about what a "Born again Christian" is. I felt like it meant a person that was baptized twice. Mike felt like it meant a person that had this spiritual epiphany that charismatic churches identify. We got into a fight because I was in a bad mood. Eventually, it got into me feeling like he's not involved enough in the things I'm going through and he has been trying so hard to be since this discussion. By the end of our conversation, we decided that one of the things I needed to do to help my depression was to go off the Atkins diet.

Earlier that day, I got an email from Jessica who read about Atkins and the change in saratonin levels...basically, that saratonin is the "happy chemical" your body produces and that carbs create that chemical. On Wednesday night (after the class), I officially began to wean myself off the diet. I did some research and realized that it's true and that some women "need" more carbs to balance out their levels. I became convinced that I was one of these women (and I still am). I didn't go crazy with eating carbs (I know I'd gain it all back instantly), but I've been slowly adding carbs back into my diet.

By Thursday, things were a lot better.

Thursday Night we saw The Passion
Mike called me to feel me out. We'd talked about going to see the Passion on Thursday, but he knew the chances of going were not great. That day, I spent at my Grandmother's house so by the time I received his message, it was 4:00. The movie started at 6:30 in King of Prussia.

I called him back and told him I would go. I got myself together really fast and met him at Chi-Chi's. We parked my mom's car and drove to the theater, with a special surprise before. He printed Ben & Jerry coupons from the internet, offering customers a free cup of ice cream, including low carb ice cream. Just before the movie, we ran to the mall to get some. Unfortunately, that Ben & Jerry's was not a participating "Scoop Shop" and wouldn't honor the certificate.
So he got a slice of pizza and I got a low carb slice of pizza (my first bread like thing in over a month), and we ate it quickly and ran into the movie. Only about 15 people were in the theater.

I should add that Mike and I had been (in some ways) dreading seeing the film. We both knew the emotional impact it would have on us and the fact that we were not preparing for a fun night--rather an emotional night. And both of us shy away from that kind of softening.

We sat through the film, both of us crying at many points (for me the scenes with Mary and Jesus were particularly hard) and we both did get a lot out of it. Since we saw the film, we are both so much more in touch with God and Jesus and the sacrifice of the cross.

In terms of the film, it was important for us to see. But I do have to say that the violence was too much. I think the level of violence actually separated me from the film a little bit. I had to tell myself it was an actor. It was brutal.

Regardless, after the film we went to Chi Chi's and got some food (I got a low carb thing and a salad) and we talked about the movie. Since we've seen it, I feel closer to God and we both felt convicted about going to church. We haven't been going much. We came home, got Emmett and went to sleep. I should add that Thursday was my first "good day" the entire week. It was also the only morning I woke up and read the Bible and prayed. Of course, that's why.

Friday Afternoon with Cynthia Kennedy

I met her last year in L.A. when my cousin came out to see Jamie Kennedy who was making a movie at the time. My cousin came out to Venice and brought Jamie Kennedy's sisters, and I got along really well with them...particularly Cynthia. She lived in CA (the Valley) and recently had a baby herself. So she came out to visit Emmett and me with her son Nathan.

It was cool to hang out with her, and relatively effortless, much to my surprise. I find that I'm in a time of my life now where people fit into one of two categories: Easy or hard. If I get along with someone fabulously well, if they have something I want, if we're doing a project together or if we share the same sense of humor, they're "easy". If a person does not meet those standards, they're "hard" and it takes a great deal of effort for me to make conversation with them. For some reason, Cynthia, whom I don't know all that well, was not that hard. (A few weeks ago, I spent a great deal of time with someone that was hard so I was kind of worried).

She left in the afternoon and when she did, I began to pack. Poor Emmett didn't receive much one-on-one attention from me as I was entertaining for the day.

Friday Night - Saturday at Mike's Mom's House
Mike got home at 6:30 and we left for his mom's house at about 7. I felt proud of myself because I packed for all three of us before that. I felt like a good wife and I know that Mike was thinking that too.

It's very hard to go to Mike's mom's house. It's a long trip--3 hours. But I packed beforehand and we got there at 10. It was pretty good, but Emmett was kind of fussy because he really didn't know where he was (and it was a pretty long trip. 3 hours.) When we got in, we ate and went to bed. Emmett was up for awhile because he didn't know where he was.

On Saturday, I woke up at around 9:30 and went to Curves with Mike's mom. Then, we stopped at her Gallery and went to a yard sale on the way home. His mom bought toys for the kids. Later, Mike's sister and her boyfriend came over and brought Angela's baby Isaac with them. It was great to see Isaac, but I am all babied out and so I felt like we were running a nursery which was hard (Angela wasn't there) I am sick of babies. I even get sick of the baby side of Emmett...the crying the diapers etc. I am not often interested in anyone else's baby. But I was happy to see Isaac...I do love that baby. Later, Mike and I went back to the yard sale and the guy ended up giving us a bottle of homemade wine. We were so thankful!

We ate dinner, Mike and I went to check out a car, we had a lot of talking time and then at about 7:00 we left. It was a good visit and a visit that I went completely off my diet...but not crazy. I did have fruit pie. I did have bread. I did eat a lot. but I don't (think) I went crazy. I don't regret anything from the visit.

Sunday we went sailing
Actually figuring this out was HELL. We were trying to coordinate with Scott, Jessica and Scott H. which would seem easy, but wasn't . We were all on different schedules so figuring out that we were going to go Monday was actually hard. But we did it. And on Monday, I went on my first sail boat.

We did skip church, but we tried not to. In the end we felt like God would rather we just go sailing than cause more pro lems. We drove down to Warren MD where Scott's family has a house and a boat and we met them on the doc at a little after 10. The, we went. It was a great time. I really enjoyed it and Scott's dad was there (Dr. Clinton) and it was fun talking to him. Jessica, however, got very sick and my heart was with her. We pulled onto shore at about 4. 2 hours later, we drove home. Jessica in the car with me. Mike drove with Scott.

I love Jessica and I needed to talk to her. I am reclusive and don't talk to many women. The car ride was our only "alone" time and it was more valuable to me than the rest of the weekend.

We got back and had a BBQ with Mike, Scott, Scott H., Jessica and me. We drank the homemade wine and listened to a Shaggs tribute CD. We went to bed early but mike and I were up late talking. Although we went in at 10:30, Mike and I went to sleep at about 3:00.

Monday we spent talking in the kitchen
Jessica and Scott stayed over and we spent the day (until about 5) sitting in the kitchen area just talking about random things. I was off my diet again, eating low carb pancakes, eggs and some Maria cracker cookies. (I also had a regular pancake). It was a relaxing day except that Emmett was so, so fussy and whiney all day. And in the rain, with a headache, a non-stop cry is hard to take. It turned out he was gassy and needed our attention. When they left, we spent time with Emmett, I got depressed briefly, and then I took a nap. Right before I fell asleep, he told me I was pretty. Mike spent time with Emmett which was good.

Tonight he made fish and spinach. I woke up to a delicious smell. Then, he cleaned it up and gave me a low-carb candy bar he had hidden. I am amazed at all times at what a wonderful husband I have. If I feel insecure, I should look at him and realize that if HE likes me, I must be pretty special.

He's waiting for me to go in to pray before we go to bed. I should.
Good night.

Here's Why I'm So Messed Up

I'm not sure where to begin. I guess, I'll begin with the history of the whole thing.

I'm not going to reveal my name in this blog. It's public, and I'm not sure exactly what that means. It may be that if you search under my name, you'll come to this journal. I'm not sure. Regardless, to you my name is Kristen, which is my middle name, and will be the name I use in this blog.

For most of my life, I've been pretty happy. I was born into a highly sensitive artistic family with a depreseed mother a great period of my youth, crying and sleeping. My father was a deep, dark artist who did not like children, and my sister and I grew up in a poor suburb of the city in a neighborhood where murders happened. Even as I write it, I can hardly believe it's true.

In 4th grade, my parents scraped all their money together to send my sister and I to a "private" Christian school which was primarily filled with kids from the city. It was a poor private school if you can believe it and by 7th grade one of the girls in my class was pregant.

So my story begins in 5th grade.

The entire class rejected me
I was one of two white girls in the class, second favorite to my white teacher, and given all the "perks" of the classroom. I was taken on special trips...I was given special jobs...I was even invited to the teachers house. Well, Jennifer Falls and I were. We were the teacher's pets -- But Jennifer was her favorite.

Then, I went to sixth grade and all of the sudden there were lots of other white girls in the class and all of the sudden there wasn't one teacher anymore. I was akward, skinney and dressed entirely in thrift shop clothes, which although are cool now, were NOT cool then. I was not in "Christian Academy 6th Grade Fashion" with collars flipped up and blue eyeshadow. And at some point, somewhere, I was rejected by Jennifer Falls and all the other "cool girls" in the class. Not only was I rejected, I was ridiculed and tormented constantly. On and on they would go, with comments like "A brick wall is jealous of you" etc. etc. Soon, the boys joined in. And at one point I remember hearing that this kind of popular boy liked me and I knew it had to be a joke. I was way too much of a reject.

I tried the "subgroups" of the sixth grade, all of which rejected me in some capacity. By the end, I was trying to get the attention of Christine, a total nerd, hoping to befriend her. I was totallly desperate. But she was such a nerd, she didn't even need friends.

I ended up keeping a journal which detailed everything each girl said to me and using their initials as a code name "L.B. = Lisa Bear" and would jot down the exact phrase they said. (This was my father's idea). On some fateful day, I left the notebook in a classroom, a teacher found it and I was called down to the office. One by one, each of the girls came in and apologized to me. And really, they never made fun of me again.

I came back the next year tough. Over the summer I grew and by the time 7th grade came, I was ready for anything. To my huge surprise, no one made fun of me very often, although someone did steal my lunch from my locker every day. ( I ended up leaving a rotten banana in a bag one day and they never stole it again). Seeing how miserable I was, my parents put me into public school (my dream come true) where I was immediately accepted and made tons of friends, some of which have lasted a lifetime.

This blog is going to be about my present, but in order for me to get in touch with my present, I have to understand the past. The first part of which is rejection. The second part of which is desire for acceptance.

My father rejected me
In terms of rejection, I was rejected by my father as a child. He disliked children (although he hasn't admitted it) and he would yell at us (particularly me) very, very often. I later accused him of favoring my sister. He sort of denies it, but I know it's true. My first car = $800.00 Her first car = 4,000.00 **UPDATE - AUDREY HAS TOLD ME THAT SHE SAVED UP EVERY PENNY SHE HAD TO BUY THIS CAR AND THAT MY PARENTS DID NOT PURCHASE IT FOR HER. My college tuition = $8,000/yr. Her college tuition = 13,000/yr. You get the idea. My father one time told me I could never be an artist that my work was immature and (basically) to stop trying. (I was in advanced placement art with the intention of becoming an art teacher). I dropped out of A.P art and decided to go to school for English. (He has since tried to encourage me with art and I have since sold a few paintings). My father never noticed the myriad of accomplishments I set before my parents. He never encouraged me in any activity, while my sister he encouraged in nearly anything she tried.

Of course, just as I was becomming a teenager, I had to deal with complete rejection by my peers -- not only by my peers, but by girls. I could no longer regard my father's rejection as a "man" rejection, but suddenly females were rejecting me too. My mother was there, but she was depressed and I was more worried about her and if I had made her depressed than she was worried about me.

My parents wanted me to be something I wasn't
These were the two major incidents that built me into an over-achiever, which, if you ask me, is a less bad psychological problem to have. By the time I got to high-school I was involved in every club, with everygroup, I'd go on every outing...I did eVERything. And my parents barely noticed. I started to dress differently, realizing that I was different than the regular groups. By 15, my two friends and I were all out hippies before it was cool. We were wearing bikenstocks when they were mail-order only. And my parents didn't even notice. Not only did they not understand, they thought I was low. So, I started smoking. My biggest rebellion since they'd supposedly "quit" for me when I was younger. And on and on it went. Here's a phrase I remember best "Why can't you just be a lovely young woman like Chrissy Wisnowski". (C.W. was this Lacrosse player that went to our church and school). It didn't matter what I did. It didn't matter that I was in 15 clubs, in every play, that I won "Best Artist" and "Best Actress" that I was in A.P. Art and English, that I made posters for Reagan's school visit, that I gave the graduation speech, that I decorated for dances etc. etc. my parents didn't notice and I was never ever good enough because I wasn't Chrissy Wisnewski.

My first abusive relationship (in college)
By the time I reached college, I started to actually realize these things (which prior were completely unbeknownst to me). I was like a starry-eyed teenager, having fun and oblivious. I got angry at my father, I became a radical feminist and despite this, began a 4 year emotionally abusive relationship slash friendship (depending on his mood) with someone that did not love me. He knew what was going on. He understood my need for acceptance. He knew my areas of weakness and he knew that I believed he loved me. But for 4 very long years, he used me to stroke his ego. He used me to listen to him make up stories about how great he was.

This marked the third significant rejection I experienced, and this time I was aware of it. For years, I clung on to the hope that someday in some capacity he would accept me for the way that I was and somehow atone for my father. But he never did. He always put me down. He always ripped my confidence apart. He always made me feel inadaquate, shooting another hole into my vulnerability.

My friends rejected me
By the time I graduated, I was a mess. I was high energy, nervous, drank and smoked way toomuch, and was always creating chaos around me, feeling stable only in fixing the chaos. I became overly confrontational and made fights in order to fix them. I moved downtown with my two best friends from high school and was ultimately rejected by my entire household, including the two girls. They accused me of trying to get their boyfriend's attention and the one felt that I would surely murder someone. The situation was not ideal. I lived in the biggest room by myself. The other two lived in smaller rooms with their boyfriends, one of which had liked me first...the other which could barely speak Englisyh. Their relationships were difficult, and I had all the space in the world. But regardless, so marked the 4th major rejection I experienced, this time by people I thought I could really trust. People that saw and knew everything.

I became closed off
After that, I closed completely off to women. I began to look for men with money and found one, an engineer, that was very boring, dry, nerdy and like a stereotypical engineer. Of course I was his dream girl. He was used to dating total nerds. He did accept and love me, but I nowhere near loved him. And for awhile, I thought that it couuld work. That I was safe that way. I'll have the upper hand.

Well, it didin't work. I broke up with him and tried to find an old boyfriend in college, named Ryan. He was around, but we never seemed to reconnect. He was the one college boyfriend I had that I really do believe loved me, but I didn't realize it at the time. In reaction to the rejection I'd experienced, I treated Ryan poorlly and did everything in my power to keep him out. I no longer wanted to let anyone in. At least men. I fought him hard to keep him away and eventually, I won. And when I went to look for him he was afraid of coming back.

I found Jonas, a man 10 years older than me that was an artist and a talker. Big mistake. Way too old. It was a terrible mistake that makes me shudder when I think about it. On top of it all, Jonas was an alcoholic (what was I thinking).

Through it all, the jerk that rejected me in college was still there. Always coming around. Always being this "friend" to me that constantly criticized me and used me for his own confidence. He approved of Jonas, thinking that was a good match.

I met the only man I could ever marry
Then, I met Mike. He was the only man I could ever marry because he was the most normal man I'd ever met. Plus, he loved God and that was ultimately what I needed. He helped to calm me down and offered a stability that I'd not seen before. I knew instantly that I would marry him and eventually, I did.

But I continue to have difficulity opening up to him. I still have wall after wall after wall and it seems the only people that can stillhurt me, are the ones that blasted holes into me earlier in my life. Those people know the secret passages into those holes and (when I speak to them) go inside and set off explosions. Until recently, Iw as still talking to several of those people. But a few months ago, I cut them off.

That concludes the history
So this blog is going to be about what's happening to me now. I'mcompletely confused, desperately depressed and I don't know where God is takingme. My baby is awake and I have to take care of him. Hopefully I'll write more later.