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A deep, deep sleep and a vivid dream of my workplace with supportive gifts of chocolate on everyone’s desk made for a nice rest.  It had been a good night.   The morning involved a beautiful sit-down session on Maggie’s bed, hanging out and talking.  Suddenly I noticed her alarm clock was unplugged.  Why?  “You told us to unplug everything we weren’t using…”  <smile>  Oh, my precious girl.  Thank you for you.

My Do One Thing for today was a little too big for success (clean out the entire garage), so I narrowed my focus and worked on going through my Montessori items.  I have a sand tray now for future private practice, thus I began the heart-breaking task of sorting through my sound box items and all the Montessori jobs and cards I’d created and divided them up; keep for therapy sessions, keep for possible future Montessori teaching, and donate to CMP.  I had spent countless hours working on these; a year for school, a year interning and so much time looking for/making everything.  Still, I do not want all this stuff just setting there, not being used.

I also went through all the framed pictures: I have many from La Bodega, Pancho Villa and many scenes from his expeditions and the framed drawings of Zürich hundreds of years ago.  Plus I have many vintage original performance posters from ballets in New York City that my father managed to purchase.  Not quite sure what to do with these things, but I must keep them.  Mags got busy melting candles so we could make fire starters for camping.  After several hours, I called it a day as the accumulation of all these items have taken years…they shan’t be sorted in a short bit of time.

So, this Kegel exercise.  These and hip raises are the best way, according to my PT therapist, for me to strengthen my muscles to support my spine. For a while, I was proud as my pelvic sponge-pit had actually become a pelvic floor muscle once again.   Yet, I have very obviously have been slacking with these as my once super-urinary-control-skillz are now more like water through a sieve.  Oh the shame….

Mags and I had fun finishing up our LoR marathon and henna-ing each other.  It was a much better day for me today as I felt the love from so many.   That’s what it’s like when I experience these descents of depression..it simmers for a period of time under surface, slowly makes its appearance then hides again  until it’s  ready to come back.  After almost 30 years, I’ve learned these cycles, to appreciate the good and not to put much trust in the not-so-good, for it shall pass.

Pictures: From Montessori to therapy; My girl. #lovehersomuch

I should have known…it has been pending, building…and today the dam broke.  Feeling so broken, so worthless in my heart, while my brain tries to say “No, no no!” (or maybe it’s the other way around??) I know I’m not fat, I know I’m not stupid, I know I’m not ugly, yet everything in my soul tells me otherwise and it is hard to break out of these thoughts.  Tears. Inner-anguish.  Sadness.  As a human being, I sometimes need someone to hold onto. Today, that someone was Maggie.  I have spoken with my kids and they know this is who I am – but man, I sure wish I didn’t need to use them like this.  Later, Maggie said, “Most of the time we lean on you, but sometimes you need to lean on us.”  I’ve got some good kids.

So I try – Do One Thing – just One Small Thing, (today it was clean out a drawer) and then I feel a bit better, but it quickly fades.  Today the plan was to meet with Johnny B for a meeting – it is these things which the Universe arranges “just so” that I cannot call  it coincidence.  I also heard from Tiffany; suddenly parts from my past were simultaneously in my present.  I spent the next hour and a half with two very special friends and a few familiar faces.  No, it isn’t that “I’m back”, I’ve just not been here, but it’s all good, I was exactly where I needed to be.

I was so hungry when I got home, so little Miss Maggie got dressed (her friend had been picked up) and we headed to Sky Sushi, for my “Good-bye, sushi” lunch.  I have got to change my eating habits.  I obviously cannot practice abstinence with food as I do with alcohol, but I go to such extremes.  I wonder if the Whole30 isn’t too extreme for me too – no dairy, no sugar, no legumes, no grains, ye it results in such a wonderful way.  I’m going to work on it again beginning Tuesday.

Maggie and I had a wonderful day together, by the time we got home it was 5:30 and we started our Lord of the Rings marathon which was interrupted halfway through by a call from my sister.  Olivia and I talked for an hour.  It hurts that she is in North Carolina and I am here.  Her kids are growing up so quickly, but then, mine did too.  It’s what happens it seems.

We finished the first movie and played a bit of Super Mario Brothers.  The LoR movies are too long to marathon when it comes to long, emotional days, so we’ll watch tomorrow night.  Tomorrow I need to plan – am I going to clean One Thing (because all this “stuff” is driving me mad) or will we go sit in a river so I can numb my back?   I know I’ve spent a summer with 4 day weekends, but this one is different, I’ll get to spend it with my daughter.  I started the day so low and am ending with gratitude in my heart and a smile on my face.

Pictures: Today’s Do One Thing with a little doll from Europe I’ve had fro decades; This is me before my shower.  I know I am not “fat,” yet I have long struggled and still struggle with this concept of what I “should” look like.  Please understand I realize the insanity of this whole topic. 

Maggie, bless her little heart, wanted to be at school at 6:50 to help make croissant sandwiches for their Quoia Café fundraiser.  Ethan, oddly enough, also asked to be dropped off early so he could complete science work.  I had no idea how busy the high school is at 6:45, but the road is backed up as everyone is trying to get to first period.  I got home and Gio and I were able to connect and speak for an extended period of time, which was lovely. Our someday coffee date will hopefully be in Switzerland.

I spoke with my realtor, I spoke with my loan consultant.  I texted my financial advisor.  It doesn’t look good. What angers me is I have  the money, but because I’m single, don’t make “enough” and have my student loan (my only debt), I probably won’t qualify.  This ridiculous county I live in….

I am missing 3 Hips shows and a Tim on Tuesday show because my back isn’t in working order and that’s a lot of driving….  I’m kinda sad about that…I’ve been quite stressed out lately and these shows and seeing my people make it so nice.

I picked up the bus today.  L drove me to the mechanic’s after we dropped Ethan off at his friend’s house for a weekend of camping.  I spoke with Drew about the engine and …it shall be rebuilt in November.  He’s keeping as many of the parts as he can and will install a new clutch as well since I can feel it going (well, of course it is!  It’s a 40 year old car).  The kids and I will be over to head to Moab then.  Sweet.

While cleaning the garage a bit and going through “stuff:, I found a poem I wrote in 1987. What I noticed is the message that came through in the poem..I was already depressed, I was already hinting at suicidal ideation – and this is before my car accident.  That’s kind of good news for me because I can stop blaming the accident for some, if not all, of my behaviors.  It doesn’t change anything, but it’s good to know.

Picture: Driving the kids to school this morning while attempting to “drive like Marcia” and not Greg and not spill any of my coffee.  I ended up telling the kids about the Brady Bunch episode and driving like Greg

Sometimes days are just tough.  Sometimes clients are resistant.  Sometimes the feelings I get in the very beginning of a therapeutic relationship continue on, telling me things.  Resistance is also a loud indication – maybe the client isn’t ready, perhaps I’m not the right therapist.  I am not one for forcing a round peg into a square hole, but wow…sure am grateful for consult and my supervisor.

I’m super bummed that group supervision times have changed, so I’ll need to find a different time for guitar lessons.  Why am I not inspired enough to reteach myself the few chords I taught myself a few years ago and then continue on to pure guitar learnhood?

The bus’s current issue was resolved  -no big deal at all, so I paid the tab and then asked…”Did you see about the oil situation?” and within an hour, “got the news” that at some point…soon…the engine is going to have to be rebuilt.

Headed to Maggie’s game after my final two clients, saw L there, so we sat together.  I told him the latest news about last night’s request for $2,0000 to buy an originally-costing $7,000 dirt bike, and then my explanation to the person requesting said-monies about my working  to save up (a foreign concept to this individual) for my car – a badass Toyota Supra with BBS rims.  I know that this certain individual is going to be ok in life, but for fuck’s sake, my sanity is being called into question far too much as of late.  Maggie’s team won their first game.

To close, today would have been a nice day to come home to some arms to hold me, to have someone take care of me, if only for a bit.  I do tire of doing it all sometimes, and I’m one of the lucky ones– super strong relationship with their dad.  Enough complaining out of me, looking forward to a long weekend of…housecleaning?

Picture:   Mags in-game.

Hearing Gio’s voice is one of my favorite things.   It has been 13 years since I have seen him, yet we continue to keep in touch, still talking about that day when we will spend hours together, reminiscing about high school years.

On Wednesdays,  I need to make it up to Pollock Pines by 8:30, which is even further east than Camino,  yet thanks to some rad kids, I made it there on time.  As I drove up the hill, it struck me that I am that person who marches in to the school to work with the kids and then marches right out,carrying on with my day to help more kids. That seems weird..me, the professional.  I stood in the office and waited for my little sunshine (whom I met last week for the first time) to show up…then smiled when I saw his little smiling eyes greet me.  I do so love the little ones…I think my favorite grades as a teacher were K-second.  Littles still see the magic in school.  Our session was going well when he said, “yeah, I really feel like I’m going to barf…” and seeing that look on his face, I quickly got up, opened the door to my office where he followed and…threw up all over the shiny linoleum floor.  Needless to say, our session was over.

As I walked back to my car, I saw that woman – the one with the nice outfit, hair pulled back “just so” with the designer work bag.  Yeah, I’m definitely not her.  I don’t get it…I’m trying.  I even shopped at Macy’s a couple of weeks ago, yet I still look like that lady who blew in from a clothing sale at a thrift store.  Trying to stay with healthier choices, I stopped by the co-op  to get soup for lunch and decided I’d treat myself to a breakfast burrito (you know, organic everything, cage free, probably gluten-free, fair-trade and all that shit).  It was The Most Disgusting Thing I Have Ever Eaten.  I threw it away, it was that bad.  Who’d want to be be healthy if food tastes like that?

Work was loooonnnnggg.  Usually it’s client, individual supervision,  group supervision, client,  client, client, but today the supervision was a training instead (again), then individual supervision.  Plus, I was given two groups to facilitate starting next week.  I think this could be a really great thing because they’ll be process groups and that (in my experience and opinion) is where the magic happens.

As I waited for Maggie’s volleyball practice to end, I called home to see if Ethan would start dinner, but it was not to be.  It seems he had been waiting outside, reading, for over two hours because he left his keys in my car and couldn’t get into the house.  Dinner was a mixture of Indian pork chops and these horrific frozen vegetables which were PICKLED (omygawdsogross), so I ordered pizza and after Ethan drove me around the block, we picked it up.  I’m sad beyond repair to report Ethan didn’t really care for the pizza, so I continued to consume 5 of the 8 pieces.  As N.W.A.  said…”Motherfucker, say WHAT???”

Pictures: My Wicked Tree a few moments apart…clouds are beginning to visit now that the melty heat is (hopefully) on its way out.

I find it interesting how specific topics are sprinkled into life concurrently as if to say “Hey! Look at me!”  This morning’s topic-at-hand was medication and the not-so-pleasant look at the importance of consistency.  First, I must specify that I understand the feelings from this morning as I did the exact same thing – actually I was much, much worse. It came to light this morning after a rather unpleasant encounter with The Boy (as my brain was screaming at me “MIRROR!  MIRROR HIM, you idiot!  You KNOW THIS!!!”  yet did I?  No.) and he shared he hadn’t been taking his medication in a couple of months.  Boom.  No shit…. This explains E*V*E*R*Y single thing from the last few weeks, yet I had trusted enough that when I asked “Did you take your medicine?” and received the expected-and-given answer of “yes” that all was good.  I should have been monitoring the number of the pills.  I was calm for most of the conversation, although during parts my snarkiness came through loud and clear, which is soooo uncool.   My weapon of mass destruction, however,  was his phone, so after continuous refusals, I simply said, “Ok, then give me your phone, please. You can have it back when you take your medicine.”  Within seconds the pill was down his throat.

J-Ber helped this morning in bringing my Lizzie back to the mechanic.  That recent “dying” issue?  I describe it to Drew, as well as another mechanic who was in there (it is an odd situation of two completely differing car problems).  Fortunately I was lucky enough that despite my horrid description, the car didn’t start when he tried to start her.  YAY!

I have long had a love/hate relationship with writing; it helps me process situations and goings-on while simultaneously soothing my soul.  This morning, I had the tremendous honor and pleasure in chatting with a high school friend who writes books and she gave me a TON of advice and suggestions on how to go about it.  I have long wanted to write my story – more as a sense of accomplishment for myself than anything, though there have been numerous comments made after I gave a brief synopsis such as, “Wow, that sounds like a movie.”  Accident, booze, almost-felony #1, adoption, domestic violence relationship, exotic dancing <sigh…yes…I did that for a minute>, almost-felony #2, marriage as a 7^th wife to someone 23 years my senior…yes, it’s all there in my head and I’d like to get it on paper.  I know all of those experiences helped my trek in becoming a therapist and think that’s why I love working with the adolescent population.

While I understood I might have to pay twice for the law and ethics exam – once for MFT and once for PCC, I discovered I might actually have to take two different exams.  Are you fucking kidding me?!

And now…my issue.  There is a conflicting problem I have and here it is:  While it isn’t a big deal to some,  it is HUGE to me, because it potentially defines who I am to certain people (not to me, because I know the truth).  After many years of horrible back pain and about 6 months on Norco, I am hoping there is a different solution….so I got a card.  I’ve spoken to many people about CBD and how it works with pain and I’ve read lots and lots of reports and information on it.  Mind you, I don’t have my sobriety hanging on the line here, because I’m not into drugs – I never was because they didn’t work for me the way alcohol did.  I hated <and still hate> how weed makes me feel…I over-analyze things as it is, but throw that into the mix and it’s increased to the nth degree, which is a pure nightmare.  I got this card so I could get salve and CBD tincture.  The doctor herself told me about a great salve, but I haven’t gotten that particular kind yet.  So today, the insurance guy called because (oh my, timing as always, right?) I am changing life insurance policies and they did a blood test.  I was honest with the nurse who did the physical, honest with this guy today.  He didn’t seem to understand what salve was, but when I explained, “NO!  I’m not smoking anything!  I just got the card for the salve (cream) and tincture.”  He thanked me for clarifying.  So … I have a card.  I do not buy weed with it (I actually was given a free joint with my first purchase and have no idea where it is because I threw it somewhere).  I’ve been more worried about people’s opinions on this than just about anything.  Do I still consider myself sober?  I certainly do.  It’s about the intent, in my book. I cannot bear the thought of several more months of this, nor of taking Norco.  There it is.

Pictures: The waffle that was dropped on the floor this morning…oh it wasn’t fun; Mabi helping me study; Meditating over law & ethics

Sleeping in on a morning is something I love. It brings with it a freedom, a type of  “fuck-you” to responsibilities.  Yes, I have over-used mornings as retreat, an escape to rid myself of things like too much alcohol the night before (as a teenager), but as an adult I just use it as an escape from reality.  There are so many studies which conclusively point to the benefits of sleep, so who am I to argue with good sleep hygiene?

I was kicked from the get-go: my back is radiating in pain and I cannot take a pain pill until later or my whole day is lost.  Does the norco help?  Absofuckinglutely.  Does it allow me to do anything? No.  I become far too tired, so I just sit and I cannot sit today.  Does the prescribing doctor know my history?  Always yes.  I tell them all.  Do I take as prescribed?  Most certainly.  The great thing about having gone “out” again in 1997 is that I lost so much and I am not willing to lose that again.  So do I still consider myself sober?  Ohmygod, yes!  I do want to change the way I feel in that I don’t want to have this pain and want to be able to go to my shows (or even a hike with the dogs would be great).  I know that it’s a serious situation when I start missing Mother Hips shows thinking about the pain. If I’m not better by early December, I think I will cry.

My plan today of studying for my law and ethics exam fell by the wayside as it did yesterday.  Instead, I did laundry and watched/read training stuff on therapy.  I think finding out that I actually had until February to take my exam was bad because now I’m not experiencing that sense of urgency.  I do best under pressure.  I need to let my guitar instructor know this so he can book a performance for me “in the public” – that’ll get me practicing.

By late afternoon – my backwas so bad I put myself to bed for a couple of hours before I needed to go get the kids.  They had celebrated the birthday of one of their friends at Drake’s Beach and had hung out a bit in Novato.  I picked them up at 6, and was reunited with my happy crew.  I think the relationship we have is a good one, a strong one.  There are many, many mistakes I have made; many I continue to make, especially with Ethan.  He and I have a relations

hip which is much different from the one Maggie and I have and I am unable to define why…I just feel  Ethan in a way that I do not experience with Maggie.  Maggie has a self-confidence that I have never had, Ethan doubts himself – now that hat is a world I understand well.

Maggie’s birthday is coming up soon.  I can’t believe that girl is already/only going to be 13.  She seems so much older, yet is still my baby.  I hope our relationship remains as strong as it is now, though I know we will experience hiccups.   She appears to understand the ebb and flow of relationships, however, which is in her favor.

Picture: Years ago (6? 7?) the kids and I put this little froggy (on the wooden tiles) in the “froggy restaurant” – Que Viva, formerly Rogelio’s.  It had so many frogs there, so when Ethan and Mags were babies that’;s what we called it.  The name stuck and we donated to the cause.

My alarm clock this morning was a screaming back, which I don’t understand as I haven’t done any Fitness Marshall songs (seriously – You Tube the guy).  I was feeling almost normal yesterday before the pain crept back last night.  Goddammit.

My goal today was to get new living quarters for Violet in working order, practice guitar chords and study, but I had remembered I needed to go make a credit card payment so I did that, got the curtain liner at the dollar store (so I could lay the soaked coconut shell on it to dry) and went home.  It is most helpful to my brain when I have clearly defined goals (bank, curtain liner), yet such goals are tricky at home where it is a veritable mash of an ADHD options bag.  The good news is this – Chris (my flatlands BBF) checked to see if I’d be home (I borrowed his rug shampooer when I lived in the other house).  This meant I’d have a visitor.

In the meanwhile, I studied Theraplay a bit (it’s quite different than PCIT/Incredible Years), practiced e and G chords and watched videos from Dr. Bryan Post on childhood attachment issues.  Eventually Chris showed up and made to my place.  I miss seeing that guy.  He tried to console me on my loneliness issue by suggesting I do something like a meet-up type of activity, but to be honest, my meet-up activity of Mother Hips shows has already been in progress for years and has had nothing to show for it, so what good is a hike around a lake going to do?  I showed him Match and he thinks I should commit 6 months…then laughed when I groaned with my “already been in 6 weeks” stance.  Seriously…all those ridiculous “I was almost done with Match and then I met my dream man!” women should be shot.

But I’m not bitter or anything <smile>  Really, I’m not…I miss deep human interaction once in a while – and no, I’m not referring to sex (though that is fun once in a while, too).  It’s weird to me who yesterday I was on such an emotional high after having been complimented on my therapeutic skills not only by my friend (who has lived a thing or two about therapy) but by colleagues as well, to such an emotional low because I’m here alone, again.  Year 5, plus. I think the next move might be to switch from patchouli to a real perfume…one that “catches” men.  Any suggestions?

And in my despair of loneliness, I succumbed once again to my heroin – Mexican food.  I didn’t mean to (yes I did), but I needed a “rush.” On my way to pick it up, I passed by a disabled vehicle, then saw a family walking along the narrow road with no sidewalk; mom, dad, 5 year old and a toddle held by mom.  They had a long way to go until they reached a gas-station store, so I pulled over and called the sheriff’s department and they dispatched an officer.  I felt guilty for not stopping (though I’m not sure where I would have pulled over, there was no room), but at least I called for some help if they need it (and it seems they did).

Picture: Violet’s new digs

They’re baaa-accck…my 4 in the morning wake-ups, when I think about things I cannot possibly solve at that particular moment.  This nights’ issue first issue was the beach trip the kids are having on Saturday with friends – I imagined a car of 10 children plus driver with children piled everyone and no seatbelts fastened.  Add in my traditional daily life-threatening car-accident image and my heart was beating far too fast for sleep.    Next issue was the Ween concerts I’m going to in October with my Hipnic Site 9 crew – I barely know Ween!  What will I do?!  I could be studying for my law and ethics exam, instead.  Next issue was my lost safety deposit box key, followed by some “why am I still single?” thoughts, then rotate back to the kids all piled in the car without proper safety belts.  This went on for two hours and it wasn’t long before my alarm buzzed to let me know my hours of “peace” were over.  As soon as Maggie awoke, I asked her the car arrangement plans and of course, they are safe, legal and proper.  Yep…that’s a snapshot of my “night of action.”

I dropped my kids of at their schools and wished them a fun weekend.  I am glad they will be back Sunday night.  A weekend for me is perfect – studying and tarantula-caret remodeling (please recall my previous “why am I still single?” thought – question answered).  My plans for my day off, however, involved things revolving work, which is good…I’m growing my brain.  First stop was a very special coffee date with a gentleman who taught what I am trying to learn…he is a retired doctor of psychology and has forgotten more than I’ll ever know. To converse with this man and hear anecdotes is incredible: talk about metamessage.    I could easily double our 2 hour meetings.  I have had the honor of surrounding myself with individuals who are among the best in this craft and I am doing my damnedest to follow their lead.  I was at a crossroads yesterday – the opportunity to go where I could increase my pay yet the experience would not be the same.  Today the Universe said no, that I need to be at New Morning to learn so that I may become more like my teachers.  Many of my former classmates are already building their private practice (which is fantastic, of course), but I’m not there yet.  I need much more time in the trenches so I can learn more, glean from my teachers and build my craft.   My teachers (and I have several) have no idea how grateful I am.

Back to work for a very special session, and as I waited, I did a bit of reading from our “Incredible Years” book (this is a parenting class for parents of kids 3-8 years old).  I think I’m a pretty damn good mother, yet within 3 pages I learned so many more ways in which I could improve upon parenting.  The not-so-subtle messages we send our kids simply by adding the word “okay?” to the end of the question is dumbfounding – and it is SUCH A HABIT!  Soon,  I was allowed to sit in on a PCIT session (parent-child interaction therapy) and it was AMAZING.  We sat in a room on the other side of the one-way mirror, with Maren (wearing a headset) giving instructions to the parent on how to effectively interact with her child through an earpiece the mom was wearing.  This is the answer to that missing parenting manual we were never given in the hospital.  I love learning.

Ok, so I buckled.  There is no way in hell I could have gone another day with Mexican food, so I got a burrito (or possibly two so I could take one home in case I got hungry later, which I did.  Thank Persephone for foresight).  My idea is this – I can Whole30 it throughout the week, but I have GOT To fucking live a little.  As I told my colleague – what if I get hit by a car tomorrow?  What will life have been without one last Mexican dinner?

Home to my dogs – they enjoyed the treats I bought for them and listened appreciatively (as I choose to define it) as I practiced e minor and G Major on guitar.  The analogy of cutting your way through a jungle with a machete is what I’m experiencing in many areas – work, personal and musical.  I am a beginner and it is glorious.  My synapses are staring confusedly at me asking “What the hell are you doing, lady?!?” and I’m laughing at them, urging them to get off their asses to get  some work done. Lazy, fat synapses are such the bummer.

Pictures: Waiting for my coffee date – I actually enjoyed this one;  THIS!  I don’t know if it’s beginner’s luck or not, but I’ve heard horror stories of  cases denied by a county, yet this is my 3rd  service request and my 3rd approval!  That tough case is accepted!!