At first you don't succeed.....

Try and try and try again.

I always feel better, metally/emotionally, when I keep a journal. Perhaps because I get all my thoughts and feelings out on a daily basis instead of waiting for some poor slob to come along and ask me how I'm doing. By that time, I'm usually a mess.

I had such a disappointing conversation with my son last night. He is a junior in college and lives on campus. I haven't seen him since he went back after winter break. And I miss him. Not that we spend a lot of time together when he is here, but just knowing he's here hold a comfort all its own.

Anyway, I was on my aol account and checking my email when I received an IM from him. He asked my advice on a personal problem he is having with his best friend. He said that he is starting to question their friendship and his friend is doing things that my son does not approve of. My son used the words, "He disgusts me". He said that their other friends are slowly backing away from him, trying to avoid him, etc. I asked if they are avoiding him also, because of association. He said that they are still the same friendly bunch with my son as they have always been. But they are making their feelings known. And they too are questioning my son's friendship with him.


Note: I have just spared anyone that might come across this post the horror of having to read the entire situation between my son and his best friend. I typed out the entire scenario, and it was so friggin long that "I" got bored proof reading it. So I deleted it. Consider yourself lucky, if you happen to be reading this......lol!

The point of my journaling is to get out my feelings, resentments, etc. It is NOT to write about someone else's problems. Because there was actually a point to my writing about this. It's bothering me to no end.

I love my son. And I am so proud of him and his ability to ask for advice. And I am amazed by his trust in my opinion. I think that little of myself.

After advising him regarding his situation, and being sure to praise his ability to realize that he does have choices today, he hit me with the bad news.

In November, I asked him if I could take him to Vegas for his 21st birthday. I told him that I wanted to be present for his first drink and his first pull on the slots. He immediately informed me that I had missed his first drink. Okaaaaaaaaaaaay. I get that. So I rephrased it and told him that I would like to be present for his first LEGAL drink and pull on the slots. He was all for going away. He thought it was a great idea! I told him that we would take the red-eye out of Newark Liberty and be in Vegas around 3am on his birth DAY.

Well last night, he knew I would not take his news well. He said that first. Your not going to like what I going to tell you Mom..................... In that long pause after that first sentence, so many things runs thru a "Mom's" head, I cannot even tell you. So when he said he was thinking of NOT going to Vegas, I had to laugh. That's all? That's it? That's what he was afraid to tell me? Well, that was easy. That is, until it actually sunk in. I am greatful that he was not present or on the phone with me when he told me. Thank God for the smallest of miracles. He was so afraid he was going to hurt my feelings. And he did. He hurt me. I was so struck by his maturity in this one conversation, yet I could not stop crying for the son I was losing in the process.............

He wants to go bar-hopping with his friends instead. I immediately told him that if we could just go for 2 nights, I would promise to have him home for Friday night. Nah. He wants to be with his friends ON his birthday. He doesnt't want to be with me. I cannot tell you how much this hurts.

Now, if I could look at this reasonably, I could see he is right. Hell, I didn't want to be with my parents AT ALL from the age of 14 until about 23 when I got married. I chose my friends and alcohol every time. And unlike him, I didn't care what they thought. It didn't bother me if I backed out of a event with my parents to be with my friends. And I never even considered what they thought or how they felt. So in that respect, I am lucky.

And I am lucky enough to know that if I laid the guilt trip on him, he would have certainly chose to go on this trip. He would've sacrificed his wants for mine. And if he only knew I was crying as I was typing to him last night, he would have completely fell apart.

So I did what my head told me to do, and not listen to my heart. Because my heart was breaking as I typed that being with his friends, and barhopping on his birthday sounded like so much fun. I told him that he only turns "of legal age" once, and he should be with his friends, doing exactly what he wanted to do on that day. UGH!

And so today, I am feeling more than sorry for myself. I am walking around as though a part of me had died. When in reality, its really that a part of me (my son) is beginning to live. And I'm having a hard time letting go..............

Returning To Work

Yep, I returned to work yesterday. Unfortunately the excitement of doing so has gone. I'm over it. One day there and I'm already wishing I was still out on disability............

Finally...........

I was finally given the "go-ahead" to return to work. For some, dread may be the reaction. Not for me though. God knows I love my fiancee, but we have had enough of each other.

More later, here he comes! See? I'm running away from him these days.......
Not good............... :0(

I am posting from my sick bed. Seems I have either slipped a disc or have some type of spinal spasms that have allowed me all this free time to scream in pain. Excruciating pain, btw.

Now for an opiate lover such as I, these so called muscle relaxers haven't done shit for me. So I suck it up, and scream it out. My poor youngest son is so afraid to even come within 10 feet of my bed for fear of him bumping the mattress and sending me into another fit of rage, anger, pain, and tears. There have been many, many tears this week.

SO I sit, and have a pity party for myself.

On the upside, Tim bought me a new cell phone. Titanium Voyager. Love it. Love it.

Well, feeling shitting, signing off!

Godspeed.

Janice

Well, I'm still here, and quite happy I might add. WTF? This is definitely NOT me. Not at this time of year.

Tim and I went out all day on Wednesday, Christmas shopping of all things! And I am proud to report that we had not ONE disagreement, argument, misunderstanding. Now that is big for us (or me, I should say).

This has been a tough year. My depression not only stayed with me throughout most of this past year, but it was the most debilitating depression I have experienced to date.

My youngest son turned 10 yesterday. I had the kitchen in full decorated mode so that when he woke up and came in for breakfast, he was surrounded by balloons, streamers, banners, etc. I haven't done that in years, for either child. I had his "goodie bags" ready by 6am so that he had them to pass out to his class ON his birthday. Last year, there were no "goodie bags". His mama took a mental vacation for that birthday.

And last Christmas, Tim had to actually shed a few tears of disgust in order for me to even contemplate putting up a Christmas tree. So I reluctantly got my fat ass out of bed on Christmas Eve morning, crawled in to the attic, threw down the decorations and threw up the tree within 15 minutes. When I think about it I could cry. How selfish I was. How depressed I was.

But you know what is even more amazing. As I write about my guilt, I am already in a phase where I refuse to let the guilt fester so that it gets so enormous in my own mind that I get a case of the fuck-its. I refuse to let guilt ruin my present or my future. It has already spent enough time ruining my past.

Now that, my dear friends, IS PROGRESS!

So fuck guilt! Bring it on baby! I ain't having none of that this time. No way, no how. You can try to ruin my holiday high, but you can't do it. So there!