Bronchitis with Bronchial Spasms=Depression

I've thought better of posting something pretty depressing on FB and decided to move it here, instead.
From Second Firsts:
"By the time I discovered the portal to a new world, I’d learned that when you experience a devastating loss from a death, a break up, a job loss or a divorce, what you are left with afterward is a life beyond a regular life. It is beyond a day-to-day experience.

The day I accepted how different I had become because of my grief and realized I was no longer the person I used to be—and that I could never go back—a doorway opened. I stepped through it into a new life that had the potential to surpass my most ambitious dreams.

I was no longer someone who lived her life just like everyone else. I was no longer thinking in the same way as my friends, my family, and my co-workers.

I was no longer talking, acting, and feeling the same.

So I stopped trying to fit the life I had left behind.
And I found that my pain lessened.

My new self was no longer trying to match my old surroundings.

Trying to remake the old life was what had hurt me the most.

At first it was hard to make the transition to being a new me, as I had to practice laughing again and had to face my fears head-on by taking risks again.

Above all else, I had to learn how to trust again.

That was the feeling that took me the longest to recover. But once I did, it took me the furthest."

Christina Rasmussen
from my new book Second Firsts: Live, Laugh and Love Again (Hay House, 2013)

ORDER HERE and learn to live again: http://www.amazon.com/Second-Firsts-Live-Laugh-Again/dp/1401940838

My response:

I am still re-learning how to trust--it is hard. My relationship with my husband was not a healthy one--it was semi-abusive, I never knew which way was up, what he expected or wanted from me. Recently I was in another relationship that echoed some of those themes--yes, this man was different, the abuse was only verbal/emotional instead of including sexual and physical--but I felt stuck the same way, stuck by love. I finally stood up for myself and wouldn't take him back after he broke up with me the third time. My sister is proud of me, says that action shows that I have grown, that it took me that long (6-8 months) to break out of old habits. I think she believes I won't do it again--I wish I believed that, but I still think that, if I were in the same situation, I'd do it all over again. How do you know when you can trust yourself again?

And, men, why do you repeat things you know kill us inside, things we almost broke up with you for? Why do you say things that tell us that you don't want us to talk to you any more, and then never apologize? Why do I let you hurt me like that time and again? I wish I loved you less and me more, maybe just me more. Hope is a blessing and a curse. As time goes by, more of my dreams slip through my fingers--how long until I give up on them and you? Even if I did get married today, how big of a family could we have before it would kill me? For as long as I can remember, I've always wanted a big family--now, I wonder if I'll ever get to be a mother at all. Aide says this is short-sighted of me--but the eternities just aren't the same. I don't know that I will feel the same, I don't know who I will be, I can't imagine myself there at all.

This is where I am right now. I have been sick for 4 weeks, and my voice is back to normal as of today. Monday (06/30/14) Aide said I was a "pile of disease" and Nate (friend from work) said I sounded terrible. Rose said I sounded fine. (Thank you, Rose!) Since I came down with this, I have seen Shaun once (for his b-day dinner that I planned before he said we'd just be friends), my visiting teachers once, some of the RS presidency once, Aide and kids once, my home teachers (new HT Ben Mucha and old HT Jason Brown) once, Meghan once (because she left for NYC at the end of June), Emma once (to return a book and pick up more from the series), Nora once, and Fea once. In that order. Looking at it now, it seems like a lot. It didn't feel like it. It felt like I was a pariah and couldn't touch anyone and wore a mask to go talk to Judy, etc, at work so I wouldn't get anyone else sick. I felt very much alone. My home teachers came over to give me a blessing--I was told I'm having these trials so I will gain understanding and strength. I'm feeling quite rebellious about that. What am I not understanding? And maybe I don't want to be strong--I'd just rather stop existing. Yes, let's pretend that would be possible. What would I need to do to earn that reward? You can see I really was not doing well by any definition of the word. I'm hoping to pull myself up out of that pit soon, hopefully before my birthday, because it would be a shame if I still wasn't fit for company by then. I think I'll start a puzzle tonight--isn't that why I put my coffee table downstairs in the first place?


Love and Laughs Always,

Liska

The Great Thaw: a very optimistic title

Today was a fantastic day--it just was. I went to Golden Corral with Jeanie for breakfast, ate too much but loved it, then went to see Emily N. at work while getting oil changed--love killing two birds with one stone that way!! Emily N. said that I sound a lot better than she's heard me in a long time. She was right, and it made me cry--I can cry during fantastic days, can't I? It should definitely be allowable!--because it has been so long. At breakfast, I was talking about things with Jeanie, and how, although I am feeling much better, I am still angry and am not certain I wouldn't yell if Brandon tried to talk to me. She said that I have the right to be angry, that she is still reminded of Josh by certain things. . . I should have asked if she was angry, but didn't. After I saw Emily and picked up Bob, I went to Adrienne's, and E & K tried on dresses I had found at DI--I also got A something, but he was at the movies with Phil, so I don't even know if he knows about it yet. I am almost done with E's hat/scarf, then on to A's sweater! Then I met Meghan at the Bountiful temple and we did a session--best idea ever, I must say, Megmau! I very much needed it.

I cried through at least the first ten minutes of the session--realized I wasn't so much angry at Brandon as I am with myself--I am still terribly, horribly, astoundingly upset that I let him treat me like dirt, like my feelings didn't matter, and that I had to change to make him happy. He complained quite a bit, actually; he didn't like how I sing parts at church, how I wanted to talk late at night [I think that was because it took that long for me to get comfortable enough with him to do it--the rest of the time was busy busy, especially because he tended to be late--more than Mormon Standard time almost always], how I didn't talk to strangers when we hiked, about vegetarian dishes not having meat and about hamburger dishes not having steak, how I chopped onions, that I spent so much time cooking. . . Once he even complained about my singing when I was happy! It was months after we broke up before Rachel heard me singing again!

Part of my frustration is that it reminded me of parts of my marriage, but I know Jeremy loved me(and I'm pretty sure I've already told you so). Nate (most recent therapist) was irritating as all-get-out to help me see that I feel I have to believe that so I can think I'm lovable at all--if he didn't love me, how could anyone else love me? (Pretty sure he doesn't agree with that, in case you were concerned that he's being less than helpful. This was probably not long before stuff changed and I couldn't afford to see him anymore, so we didn't get to the bottom of that particular fallacy of mine.)

Back to the topic--Jeremy loved me; I should have seen that Brandon had stopped long before we broke up. How can I be so stupid? Commence mental self-beratement. It seemed clear what I needed to do--make an appointment with the bishop and see what I can do to fix this. I'm also pretty sure this is why I've been having such a problem wanting to go to church--it's like I'm closing myself off from spiritual things because it hurts too much, like I don't think this wound can heal and so I just want to curl up in a little ball and die. But this is not the case. I'm sure HF has been trying to point this out to me, and I've been skirting the edges of this big thing (malignant tumor?) because I can't stand it--this hurts!

I don't know how to get this to fit in, but I think it deserves to be in here somewhere, and I'm too tired to suss it out properly. I texted Adrienne, and she said: "You're not entirely to blame, you know. He took advantage of you. And I doubt he stopped caring. I think it's more likely that he started taking you for granted. You love so easily that he forgot that you have to work for it in relationships, not to earn it, but to deserve it." Of course, I responded by pointing out how he treated me and how I shouldn't've put up with it as long as I did. She responded: "No, you shouldn't have, but you got out. That's the key. You thought that loving him enough would make him see how 'worthy' you were of treating well. He never saw it. I was (and am) so proud of for doing that." And then: "Maybe you can try putting a different spin on it instead of just obsessing with how long you stayed around when he didn't treat you right. You gave him every opportunity to appreciate you. You gave him the benefit of every doubt. That demonstrates an amazing capacity for patience and Christ-like love! You gave him every change and when he didn't step up, you stepped out I wish you would give yourself more credit for overcoming your insecurities and standing up for yourself!" Then: "You beat yourself up for a long time for you letting Jeremy being unkind/abusive to you and you didn't have time to straighten things out with him, but when similar trends appeared with Brandon and you faced it in the same way you reacted to Jeremy, you made a change--of course it took you time to stand up for yourself! You had to undo years of thinking of yourself in a certain way--as broken, as deserving of unkindness--but you did it! You turned it around and took a stand. You overcame Jeremy and John and Brandon as well as your own fears and insecurities. Own your awesomeness!" I'm crying again. See how amazing my sister is? I had never thought of it that way. Nate would agree--I think he was trying to guide me to this realization.

I need to remember this, and start counteracting my craziness with these truths, and soon. I think Shaun is fantastic, and am pretty sure I need to fix this before being able to get much of anywhere with him. Second triple date is next weekend, and I've already texted the executive secretary to set up an appointment with the bishop, but the next available appointment is 05/18/14. I want to talk this all out with someone sooner than that, think I'll check with one of the advisory couples at church. . . I miss my great guy friends that I used to talk everything through with! I need to think and sleep on this.

Early 2014 Blues

It has been a while. Work has been crazy--my box is about twice as big as it used to be (40-ish instead of in the teens or low twenties), and I've already got 7 new cases for Monday as of 8pm Friday night. They are offering overtime, though, which is a great help--I put in just under 19 hours of overtime last week, and most of that was just finishing my work and doing my duties as Pod captain. I don't know how this will be fixed--it seems that only a few of the districts are being slammed. I'm not sure if it's lucky or not that the only two in this predicament on our team are the ones with the most tenure and that weren't recently on a special project.

I am doing better. I missed a lot of church in Jan and Feb, only went two times in the middle of Feb, but did make it last week and have to go this week because I am choristing. I think things started to look up for me about than two weekends ago--I saw "She Loves Me" with some friends from the ward, and the next day I say my cousin Allison (whose dad has cancer, lives in CO, is active in the LDS church as well as having always thought I was stupendous and awesome, which I could never fathom). She was in town with her husband, and we met at Aide's house--she met the kids, etc. It was great to see her. Also, I got to paint with the kids (both of whom resorted to brushes, to my [hopefully hidden] disappointment). I saw my old roommate, Rachel, who had taken care of selling Daisy for me--we went out to eat to celebrate her life, and it was good to just TALK. She helped me feel like I wasn't crazy for continuing to fight in my head over things, etc. I did not go to church that Sunday, but my visiting teacher dropped by with hot fudge sundaes on Monday, and I talked to her. I think I figured out that I was trying to punish Heavenly Father, like somehow all the crap that I've taken in was His fault, or something, and realized how completely silly that was, because, whereas I'm sure He's sad that I'm feeling this way and that I've been in uber-hiding mode, it doesn't actually hurt Him, and it's not going to change anything about how He feels for me or treats any of us. . . And Memma's birthday was on Tuesday (she's four now) and I actually left work on time (leaving work undone, but I did tell everyone and it was all easy--surveys) and spent the evening with Aide & Co again. . . And I don't remember much of anything else other than work and church. Oh, and, at church last week, everyone talked about how good the week before was, and, based on what they said about it, it sounded like it was everything I needed. Also, at church, the Larkins (one of the advisory couples for our mid-singles ward--we have over 700 members and they are there to support the bishop and help us) kinda cornered me, because my visiting teacher (Adrian) told them I needed a blessing. I did tell her I felt like I needed one, but things had been going better, so I had blown it off. But I did want one, and it was amazing. Unfortunately, I don't remember all of it anymore--the part that stuck with me was that I can ask my loved ones that have already died to help me. I didn't ever think of that, thought they would all be too busy doing things to barely think of me. It meant quite a lot to me to hear that. And, after the blessing, Sister Larkin said to her husband something like: "Did you know she is a widow?" He hadn't known. I do love and appreciate it when Heavenly Father shows me things like that--helps me see that He IS there and does see what I'm going through and cares. I did, however, mention before the blessing how Allison's dad was sick and that we wouldn't have him around much longer--that I had considered him to be the closest thing I have to a father on earth since Dad passed. . .

Anyway, I had a pretty good week this week--my coworkers thought my peach yogurt was spiked, I was so cheerful Tues and Wed. I've been working on a hat/scarf for Memma, and have found it helps me stay much calmer when I'm on the phone with difficult people. Things did get more mellow, and I'm worried that I'm starting to fight again, maybe more than I was at the beginning of the week. But I'm still hopeful. I found out that Aide talked to one of her friends and they are setting me up with another friend--apparently he found Aide through FB and then found me, and is OK with it, which, for whatever silly crazy reason, made me feel better and a lot more hopeful.

What I have been feeling is that, again, I was hopeless. It's like I felt like I scraped the barrel with Brandon (long story short, he molested his 17-year-old sister-in-law back in 1998 or so and went to prison and is, of course, on the sex offender registry and is still on parole, is not a current member of the LDS church, and was living in his father's basement.), and he didn't even want me, so who would? And, to top it all off, he married someone else about 5 months after our last date-ish activity, when it took him months to decide whether or not he really loved me, and then broke up with me so many times. . . And he never gave a reason for the last time--I've decided he only broke up with me then because I had mentioned that I had been considering breaking up since Christmas because we hadn't been communicating--basically, he was a coward, didn't want to possibly have me break up with him--and he thought we'd get back together again later, although I told him that, if he broke up with me again the time before that, I'd cut all ties. . . I'm pretty much a chump, you know? In general, I place everyone else I love above me, their needs almost always outweigh mine, and so I stayed his friend because he wanted me to be, despite his trampling of the boundaries I tried to set to protect myself, and I didn't think well enough of myself to enforce them until my camping trip, when he texted me that he was going to date his now-wife steadily and would not hang out with me anymore without her there, when I told him I was, finally, cutting him off, and did. (I must admit that I often wondered if he ever tried to contact me after that, how often, etc., and wonder what message he got if he ever tried to call. . . And have thought out who knows how many scenarios in which he tries to force me to recognize and talk to him. . .)

I will probably always worry that I will do the same thing in every romantic situation. My most-recent therapist said that I love too quickly and undeservedly--how can I dispute that? I'm just lucky that, in most instances, my girl friends don't take advantage of it and love me, too. I don't know how things will work out; most of the time I don't see what it would be like to not feel frantic in a relationship, which is silly because I didn't feel like that at all with John. . . Even though it was a bit like spinning my wheels while waiting for him to make a decision. Anyway, this started out as an email to a dear friend and ended up as what could only be a blog entry.

I almost forgot--I had a dream this morning that I wanted to remember--reminded me of an old dream I had where I was at an amusement park with Lindsay. . . Anyway, in this dream, I was on a trip with Aide, Lo, and Mom, at first I was on a train, then it morphed and I was in an RV-ish thing with some guy and everyone else was still on the train, and we very much clicked, so much so that he took me to his house, and my family showed up, and I think his family was there (I remember his mom, and at least 1 brother and 1 sister). . . And I took a shower or something and was wandering around without clothes on and no one was saying anything about it (which, in my dreams I have interpreted as having everything out in the open--I'm not hiding anything--like I'm baring my soul), and it was just easy and natural, not shameful or stressful at all. Then, apparently, all my clothes were there, like I was rummaging through my laundry basket to find an outfit to wear, and didn't feel like I had to wear anything special or cute for him, just comfy. I like that image, that thought. I hope someday I find it in real life.

And that's all I have to say today. It may be disjointed, but I needed to share it, and, truthfully, don't have a better venue than here. Not that I don't love you, but I don't want to be a burden and/or force any of my crazy on anyone. I mean, therapists ask for it--not many other people do.

Thank you.

October is over, and yet. . .

I woke up sometime around 2 and couldn't get back to sleep--probably around 4 was to the point where I was trying to keep my sobbing as quiet as possible to not disturb my roommates. Nothing is really wrong--that is, nothing more than usual. However, I did realize something this week: I'm scared. I have no reason to believe that any relationship I have with any male will not involve pain, usually the heart-wrenching kind, to one degree or another. I figure this has been happening since I graduated from high school or something around that time--the only men that seem to be immune to this are my home teachers and most married people (I only say "most" because I was quite upset with my married male therapist a month ago because he doesn't think Jeremy loved me, which we later determined I need to believe to feel lovable). I believe sex will always hurt, too, that I'll never have any power or control at all in my relationship, I'll just love him and he will walk all over me and may not even know how much he is hurting me. I realized that, in my relationship with Brandon, he'd hurt me once, and I'd let him know I was upset about it, and, when he'd do it again, I'd shrivel up a bit inside. The main incident here was about the hair on my upper lip--he said it was a problem, I cried about it, the next day I told him that, if this was going to be a big thing I needed to break up with him, he said it wasn't, it was just sometimes distracting when we were kissing, but that wasn't the only time he mentioned it--at least two other times, maybe more. Why didn't I break up with him the second or third time? Because I was an idiot and loved him and just absorbed and internalized it. I realize now that this made me feel that he thought his distraction was more important than the pain his initial comment caused. I have no idea if he ever thought of it that way, and probably never will. He was also routinely late and ill-prepared, and I'm pretty sure he only broke up with me that last time because he was a coward. Most of this has been in my head so long I'd be surprised if most of you didn't know it all yet.

This has been waiting long enough--it's not 03/08/14. I think I'm ready to post this. I think I wrote this in November or December 2013--the date is a guess.

Emotional Vomit

I know it's been a long time (again), and that I'm leaving a big gap, but I needed to write, and get this all out, and not on Facebook--too public. I can't sleep because I'm running through crazy things--fighting with Jeremy and my recent ex-boyfriend Brandon. I realized (while I was on my CO trip) that the reason why I was hanging onto my relationship with Brandon so much (desperately, more like) was because, sometime along the way I equated our relationship to that between my husband and me. Something about all the hurt I felt and how I felt I couldn't talk to him and felt unimportant. . . It was like, if I could stick it out and make it work, somehow that "fixed" my marriage. I know it's not rational, but, apparently it's rather normal. It's painful, and that's part of why I had that post on Facebook about worrying that's all I'll get--because it was like I sought this out--what if that's what I will always seek out? A bit discouraging!! And he showed up at church (was late), I had noticed his girlfriend (though I didn't know that she was the one he was dating until later) because we're at least acquaintances--we smiled at each other, at least--but, when I noticed he was there, and had his arm around her, I lost it. I'm lucky I held it in so well. Erin, bless her, noticed I was distraught and put her arm around me and just held me for most of the rest of the meeting. I don't think I could've kept my sobs captive (i.e. silent) if not for her.

Right before Sunday School, I saw Achelle in the hallway, and she knew something was wrong, and had me sit with her and talk. It amazes me how much people believe in me--it's so hard to see that I'm anything other than a bumbling, gullible fool most of the time--I fear I love too easily and too much. I have really good friends, but there are people who take advantage of that, and I let them. Sometimes I let them do it for years (who remembers skirt-Shanna?). I would like to think that I've grown enough to stand up for myself, but then I'm proven wrong.

**********You may want to skip this paragraph, it's really a stream of consciousness of my inner fights with Jeremy**********
So, the running in my head--you know it's just trying to go back and fix things. Like, what if I had stood up to Jeremy? What if I had stopped the duty sex on my own? The problem is, every time I confront him about it (in my head, because that didn't happen in real life), it seems like it comes out meaner and nastier. . . I don't want to hurt him, I just want him to see that what he was doing was wrong and fix it. What if I had moved to the computer room and refused to sleep in the bedroom? Once he came home late from spending time with his friends and I had locked him out of the bedroom, left a note on the door telling him to leave me alone--he banged on the door until I let him in. What if I hadn't? What if I had left after he acted out in anger? Or when he told me I didn't have any friends or any of the other things he said designed to make me feel like I was worthless? (Once I let him apologize, thinking it would help, but it didn't.)
**********And now we're done.

I've been told he loved me the best way he knew how, and I think I still believe that, but it's hard to think that I'm worth more when most of my romantic relationships don't show that. I know I hide my eyes in the halls at church--there are just so many people in my ward (666 members as of Sunday, they said), and it's easy for me to feel overwhelmed. Most of the time I just feel so discouraged, that this is all there is for me--being a part of the new generation through my nieces and nephew and my friends' children, but sometimes I have this glimmer of hope. . . But I don't see how that could possibly be. Boys, guys, men--whatever you want to call them--aren't that interested in me. There are rare cases where they will ask me on a date (7, I think, in total, compared to the 17 or so I've asked), but. . . I think I expect too much. I probably throw my whole self in and they are scared off. I wonder if that's something I should change. I don't know. Brandon got upset--after he broke up with me the third and final time--when I said something about how I wouldn't be asked out on dates, and, after I got done being upset about it, I wondered what he thought dating him did to make me so much more attractive or datable to other men, and that made me laugh. Still makes me smile. But now, back to the story.

Anyway, some lady (I think she was one of the advisory couples) stopped and asked if I needed a blessing. Achelle said I did, and, who am I to say otherwise? I did want one, just feel bad for needing one so soon after Uncle John's blessing. So she whisked me away to one of the bishopric, and I grabbed one of my home teachers on the way to help (he was in the right place at the right time--what can I say?). He said that I was a precious daughter of God, and that He loves me very much, and is mindful of my pain. Makes me cry again to just think about it. Isn't it interesting how sometimes that's what we need, to know that He knows how we feel? I need to know that I'm understood, that I'm not alone--it's so easy for me to forget. Even when I feel I'm doing well I feel separate from others because surely they can't or won't understand because of all I've gone through. Sometimes I've tried to share only to be told I just need to get over it--I wish I could, I just don't know how!! Don't you think I would've if I could have figured that out? (Yes, this is something we're working on in therapy.) Something that came up in my last session--don't know if Nate said it, or if this is how I interpreted it: "Don't linger there (in your marriage with Jeremy)--that's not you anymore." I need to make a sign, maybe a couple, saying that. I've been forgetting all week.

Anyway, I know this is twisted and convoluted, but I needed to get it up and out. And, hopefully, that'll help me sleep tonight. Love you and miss you always.

Liska

P.S. Relief Society, as usual, was awesome. Sunday School is always the hurdle.

I Must Be Dreaming. . .

Rapid City is off--Gillette is on.

I talked to Lisa today. It was good to hear from her, she reminded me that I'm excited to finally be leaving Madison, not just because of this thing with John--although that's happy, too.

However, I'm almost worried it's a dream, how can it be real? I'm talking into a box, and I hear him. . . And his voice is saying things I've wanted to hear for so long, how could I not wonder? I never thought this would happen, I thought our chance had passed years and years ago. But, here we are, and, at times, it's too fantastic to believe. I think I'll feel better about this when he comes for my birthday; it'll be so good to see him and talk to him face-to-face, even if all we do is repeat everything we've already said, I'll get to see him, gauge his body language and facial expressions. . . And finally see the sincerity I need.

It's so silly that I'm practically scared of this--at least, some of it. In the last eight-ten years, I've felt like all of my guy friends have left me--moved away, got married (which is practically moving away as they aren't in my ward anymore so I barely ever see them), died--and I'm scared he will, too. Not like he'd abandon me on purpose, but what if he dies? I don't know if I could handle that, not now. Eventually, yes. Oh, what a cruel twist of fate that would be, after so much wishful thinking and suddenly having those wishes come to life, only to shudder and die before the light of day. Yes, a tad dramatic, but I don't think that makes my concern invalid. Especially in light of the Fanbike incident, his falling off a three story building, car accidents. . . As far as I know, it's been a couple years since anything life-threatening has happened to him, but that doesn't help.

I have no idea how to express this to him--I don't know if I can, not even sure he has the capacity to understand this fully. One thing's for sure--it's definitely not a phone conversation. And it's probably premature to boot. So, all I can do for now is to tell him to take care. And worry, yes, always that. *sigh!* And, yes, I'll try to remember to talk to my therapist about this next time I see her.

In other news: I have found a new set of muscles that are sore, funnily enough, lower front right abdomen--yes, that's correct, just the one side. I'm not sure how it happened, either--yoga today didn't do anything for it--maybe laughing so much at xkpc comics? That's all I can come up with for that. And I've discovered that my right thigh stretches more easily than my left one. Why can't I ever be symmetrical in any part of my body? And my capris feel bigger.

Oh, and Meghan and I have started looking into apartment fixes. I think this will end up working! And there's the excitement again! And I'll leave you on that note. :)

Grieving

I don't know how many of you knew this--I'm no longer working at Great Lakes--currently unemployed, as a matter of fact. I can't remember if I mentioned this in my other blogs or not--in a way it was a blessing, because it would've been much harder for me to spend time in Beloit during Dad's illness and everything if I had still been working. . . For that, I am glad. Mom is glad because she thinks I was stuck in a rut. I still remember when Dad told me he was proud of me for having a good job with good benefits, like I was finally taking care of myself. . . I don't remember Dad ever telling me he was proud of anything I had ever done before--I wonder now if maybe that was why I held on for as long as I did. At any rate, that part is done. I still have friends at Great Lakes, and I do not regret my time there. I learned many things, about myself and other people--I talked to a few people who became heroes to me because of their struggles and other things they've gone through that I only knew because I was there. . . So many things to remember and reflect on that I didn't have time to consider before, though I'm sure that's more because I didn't allow myself that time more than anything else.

Also, during that time I prepared for a mission, started working at the temple instead, had my back surgery, moved on to the University Ward. . . I grew a lot. One of my dear friends that I met through work (Amanda Jensen) said that I definitely have changed in the time I worked there--that I was visibly still angry and working on my grief at the beginning, and, well, that I'm not anymore. I don't know why I never believe myself that I'm getting better--I guess, in my head I still feel as stubborn and rebellious as ever. . . lol--it reminds me of when I'm tired and would hang out with John Wiltbank and would start being sharper with him the later it got--he never thought I crossed any lines, but I'm much more sarcastic in my head than I ever am verbally, so I would always apologize for everything, and he never noticed a difference. . . :)

So, now I'm living on the upper east side of Madison, just barely in the 2nd ward boundaries, impatiently waiting for the day I can go back to a family ward. I know I can change whenever I want, but I never really understood why I had to go there in the first place, and so I'm not sure I'm done with whatever it is I was supposed to do/learn there. So I'm still here.

This fall has been hard on me in so many ways--not only did we lose Dad, but, of course, any time you grieve it brings back memories of other grief--this October also marked the seventh year since Jeremy and Grandma Fairbank died. That's an episode I don't want to repeat--I almost feel as though I am doomed to; I don't know why October hates me so much! But something that made it much harder was that Lisa Wiltbank and Timothy Madsen (usually referred to on this blog as "Grant" to keep him seperate from the other Timothys in my life) both moved away this fall. Lisa went to Bloomington, Indiana, for graduate school, and Grant, well, he just left.

First, Lisa. She is one of my dearest friends--she helped me join the singles ward, she was my last true roommate (as opposed to housemates and apartmentmates). We got along swimmingly; she can always make me laugh, and, more than that, she recognizes when that's a good thing, and she uses it wisely. She's been my partner in crime for so long! I really didn't know what to do without her. Her leaving wouldn't've been so bad except she didn't do well out there at the beginning. My heart ached for her so much--I've known and loved the Wiltbanks for so long I can't imagine anyone not adoring her instantly--and I couldn't go take care of her. Thankfully, she came home for General Conference weekend and we talk often enough for me to see that things are going better for her--we're going to make it.

Now, Grant. He was the friend that I talked to about all my problems with--the one I talked to about my depression in particular. He understood. When he didn't understand the emotions by themselves, he was able to take my personality in context to my words and understand it through that filter. It's always been difficult for me to explain myself to others in that way--he made it easy. I've tried with other people, and sometimes they look at me like I'm from a different planet--I never felt that way when I talked to him. He'd been talking about leaving, but it felt like how we all talk about leaving--at least, how I do--we talk and nothing ever happens.

This spring he made it very clear he didn't expect to be here for another year, and that made it very real very fast--like I was scared to make any plans or even expect him here for my birthday because who knew when he would leave? I really rather panicked about this. Not so much about "Where would he go? What will he do?", much more selfish instead: "How could he do this to me? Why is he doing this?" etc. Until he gave me a much more stable time frame to expect this to happen (in the fall as opposed to any day), I was panicked. To me, it seemed he couldn't get away fast enough, and I personalize everything, so I was trying to figure out what I had done wrong. I remember when he was talking about quitting from Epic and how happy he seemed about it--when he actually gave his notice, he was happy. I had never seen him like that before, and I somehow didn't understand that it was because he had been so miserable here. To tell you the truth, that thought didn't cross my mind until he was gone and he mentioned it to me--he hadn't even realized how awful he had felt until he left (see email inserts below). I think I could've dealt with it well enough, but he didn't want to talk to me--didn't want me to call him, said he has "no privacy" at his parents' house.

That's about when October happened. I was OK until after the funeral--that's when the cracks of stress became apparent to everyone else, anyway--I practically scrambled away once Aide left. I had spent about a week and a half surrounded by family, and their emotions as well as the energy spent smothering my own feelings were overwhelming me. I went home to Madison, and promptly continued to stifle. I didn't want to worry Meghan or my family, didn't want Lisa to hurt for me like I had for her. . . I haven't been particularly social most of the year, but it got worse, to the point where you really did need to come see me to get me to leave the house to do almost anything. Grant knew what had happened--I did chat with him about it, and sent him the email about the funeral, and things, but. . . Nothing. No response, no reassurance, no jokes or anything.

Finally I used something Meghan was writing about for an excuse to call. I became frustrated after talking about that, probably sputtered a bit about not hearing from him, then hung up. Then I wrote him an email:

Thu, Oct 29, 2009, Subject: Blah

OK, already ready to claim the craziness. Ummm. . . I can't imagine that you don't already know everything I have to say, so what's the point? Blah blah blah, I'm sorry, here goes.

I know it's not your fault that I'm so upset and feel so lonely, but I am and I do, and I miss you. I know you don't want me to call you--I've been pretty good at that, I think--but without something else to take the place of our phone calls, I feel a bit abandoned. I know that wasn't your intent by leaving, I know it's not your fault that everything happened this fall, I'm not blaming you for that. I know you never WANTed to be an emotional support for me; I never considered that I was forcing it on you, either. I don't care what we talk about, teasing each other and discussing fantasy and whatever else is fine, I just. . . Oh, I don't know. What does it matter anyway? Isn't this prolonging the inevitable? You left, you're getting what you wanted--for the most part, I'm leaving you alone.

Why am I doing this? I guess a part of me thinks perhaps you'd want to have some idea of what I'm thinking and why I'm like this--whatever it is.

Somehow these things tend to take you by surprise, though I have no idea how. Living in different states doesn't mean a thing to me, what, friendships don't cross state boundaries? So your only friends are people who currently live in Utah? If I lived in Saint George it'd make a difference? You and I both know the answer to that--the whole different state thing is full of crap.

I'm sorry, it was probably a mistake to call you today (thanks for the input, though), and I probably shouldn't be sending this to you, but I am, because I'm just SO TIRED of it all, I could just scream. Well, inside my head or all to myself, anyway--hermitdom always seems to come off the winner somehow.

So I'll go hide now.

No surprises there. His response:

Fri, Oct 30, 2009, Re: Blah

I'm really sorry that you're feeling abandonded, and I admit that it is more than a little my fault. I realize that you were using me as an emotional support (something I was usually fine with, provided you didn't ask too much of me), and considering what happened after I left, my leaving was probably especially inconvenient.

Of course, you are right about friendship not being restricted to state boundaries and so forth (although in this case, my comment was more based on the distance than the semi-arbitrary dividing of territory; if you were in St George or I in Wausau, I would have commented more specifically on the distance). I seemed so surprised because I had thought that I'd established prior to my leaving (admittedly a few months prior) that things wouldn't be the same after I left, in particular that I didn't want you to call me.

It's nothing against you; I just really wanted a clean break from being in Wisconsin. I don't think you ever knew how unhappy I was there (and I can't blame you for not knowing considering I don't think I fully realized it most of the time). My need to get out of Wisconsin was at least as much of my reason for leaving Epic as was my need to get out of Epic. Your frequent phone calls were a major part of my life in Wisconsin, so having you call me makes me feel like I'm still in Wisconsin.

After your father passed away, I did think that I should have called to support you somehow. I didn't for two reasons: First, I really didn't feel I had anything I could say to you to make you feel better. Second, as you said, I felt you needed to get used to the fact that I wasn't going to be around anymore. I can't be your emotional support forever, so I didn't want you to rely on me too much during this particular crisis.

I think I've said enough about this. Again, I'm sorry for the feeling of abandonment, but I really don't know how we could have avoided it at some point.

So, there we go. Apparently, that's the end. He's still my friend on Facebook; I don't know how long that will last. Sometimes I wonder if this is more like my relationship with Heath--except that Heath was Jeremy's friend, that's the only connection I have with him, I thought Grant and I were actually friends. I don't like comparing myself to Heath. *sigh!* I don't know, I guess I'm just as disillusioned as everyone else. This wasn't supposed to be the point of this entry, but this is where it ended up--I'm too tired to fix it or lead it anywhere else; I'll write more later.