So...updatey things, I guess.
1. Liam is in 8th grade, he is 14 years old and he is now taller than me by 3 inches at least. How did that happen? I dunno!
2. I am still in therapy, which is actually a really good thing. It's been helping me sooo much.
3. Still Pagan. 1st Degree Wiccan now. Still happy with it.
4. Family shit...is still actually kind of shitty! at least on my side. on hubster's side? Doing really well, so there's that. My brother isn't really talking to me. We sometimes nudge each other on facebook. But that's about it.
5. Personally, for me, life has never been better. I'm happy and generally stable, I've started coming out of a years-long stint of anxiety. Family life for US is very happy and peaceful. Liam is enjoying my husbands and my spiritual journey and seems to really connect with the ritual.
This weekend, I got a really disturbing memory scratched to the surface and I'm really sort of weirded out about it: I wrote this on my tumblr today:
I can't wait for therapy: And I’m not being sarcastic.
One of the biggest issues I have is that I have really bad memory. Like childhood = ONE BIG BLUR with some very sharp memories COMPLETELY out of context.
and it makes no difference how important those memories are. It’s terribly frustrating because it feels as if life has slipped through my fingers with nothing to show for it.
And the memories that sometimes get called to mind just…emphasize the amount of family fuckery I grew up with.
My husband and I were talking about our individual therapy journeys, and the events surrounding it and he brought up a particular conflict in MY family that I had NO MEMORY OF—till he began to describe it.
And now I’m like WTF HOW COULD I FORGET THAT WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME??
I’m not…depressed, not really upset so much as just “ugh, could I please just remember things like a normal person, plzzzzzz?”
I should rememember my brother putting my mother in the hospital. I should remember keeping my husband from heading back to my hometown so that he could beat the tar out of him.
And at the same time, I’m thinking “wait, though. Why do I not remember these things? Is it because I don’t understand why my brother is STILL LIVING IN THIS HOUSE or WHY DAD JUST PUTS UP WITH THIS SHIT?”
It happened so long ago, both my parents are dead, and I’ve got no one to ask about family shit since my brother has decided to pretty much stop talking to me.
Being seperated from them is an oddly weird, disconnected, floaty feeling that sometimes I like and sometimes I don’t. I’ve never really felt like I belonged with them anyway, so that’s probably why.
*sigh* come on brain. Please work with me here?
But anyway, that's about it. Life is weird but decent. Feeling more like Me than I ever have. :D