LOST

My sleep has been badly broken up these last few weeks. Broken, uneasy, and disturbed. I have such a deep longing for a mother, that it follows me even into my sleep and the search lasts for as long as my eyes are closed. It is a cold and desperate search. It is lonely and fruitless. Sometimes I wake and try to conjure some bit of safety that would allow me to sleep once again. It never lasts and I wake once again wondering where she is and why she doesn't want me.

This evening I decided to 'build' a safe mother. No, I don't know how, but I decided to try anyway. I figured if I could state what things might cause my senses to bring me a feeling of safety and comfort, then a picture of a mother would appear. I appealed to my five senses and I asked them the question. First I asked my sense of smell. What would a mother smell like? It told me a mother would smell like the dirt of the earth, cognac, and the pages of old books. It also mentioned pipe tobacco, but I rejected that one with my conscious mind because I knew that was the smell of my father when I was a little girl and though he was my only source of comfort, he was anything but safe. And it was only then that I realized the other answers provided by the sense of smell were also the smell of my father. (And how again did I later end up in relationship with a man who turned out to be a pedophile?) I decided not to panic and I moved on to my sense of hearing. I inquired about the sound of a mother and asked it not to bring me my father. I asked it to please bring me the sound of a mother. That's when Jenny showed up. She brought me the song at the end of this post and now I feel irretrievably damaged. I didn't want MY mother, I wanted an imaginary one who would love, protect and comfort me.

Uncle Sam Wants You!

Did you know that the federal government of the United States accepts donations to help pay down the public debt? I didn't, either. When I learned of it, it reminded me of a news story I once read about a woman who survived a robbery. She said she didn't understand why the perpetrator didn't just simply ask people for money instead of robbing to get it. Just sayin'...

Anyone who has not been screwed badly enough by the tax codes to be left without sympathy can donate here:

Attn: Dept G, Bureau of the Public Debt, P.O. Box 2188, Parkersburg, WV 26106-2188.

My big question: Are gifts tax deductible?

:-)

Give Sammy a buck, eh? I know the U.S. dollar is on its way to becoming something next to worthless, but we have only twelve trillion or so of them left to go to pay off the debt. (And I swear to god I'd be in prison for fraud if I ran my household this way.)

I'm so unhappy right now.

The little girl sobbed for the dream mother all morning yesterday, but not from the inside. She used the body to do it. I hate being five. It's too painful. I drank too much to make it stop. I couldn't bear it anymore. I was okay when I woke up, but things got bad as evening approached. At one point I was propped up in bed on my laptop with the bedroom door open. I looked up to see my father standing there outside the door leering at me. Of course it wasn't my father. My father is dead. It was only my husband waiting to speak with me, but it still fucked me up. And according to my husband, I was sleepwalking yesterday morning. I wandered into the kitchen and then opened the refrigerator to look inside before pacing the room for a bit and then going back to bed.

I was nervous all evening tonight. I kept having to go around and check all the doors and windows and I felt very insecure. I felt like my house was too large and open and that something or someone was prowling around waiting to break into my home and attack me. And there was also plenty of hypochondriacal crap trying to drive me insane. I wanted very much to wrap myself up in a blanket and hide in the closet, but I couldn't because I have to try to keep it 'normal' in front of the kids. I ended up having a couple of beers after everyone went to bed. I'm tired now and would like very much to go to sleep. It's cold here. I wonder if this has anything to do with what's going on right now. In any case, I need Friday to be better. I just do. I'm so fucking desperate for it you wouldn't believe it. Or maybe some of you would.