From Inside the Borderline

Valentine’s Day.  It usually depresses me because I’m usually alone.  Interesting that it’s different this year, especially considering that I, just a few days ago, screwed up another friendship.

Maybe it’s because I’m finally getting it.  I have to learn to be alone.  I felt free after I got over the initial embarrassment of what happened with Ron.  Free.  It was as if I’d been trapped.  Not trapped by Ron, he didn’t do anything wrong, but trapped – maybe by the idea of relationship.  I’m not really sure.

I think I’m finally accepting the concept that in order to find myself I have to do it myself.  I do need friends, a support system, but relationships only mess me up and I end up messing the guy up as well.  I need to stay on my own.  I won’t be able to rebuild myself if I don’t.

When in a…

View original post 179 more words

Posted in This 'n that | Leave a comment

Not so comfortably numb

From Inside the Borderline

I recently met a very nice man.  Very intelligent and easy to talk to.  Every time we’ve been together we’ve been able to talk a lot together.  Not something I’m used to…

He got me to talk about something I’d never been able to verbalize before.


Or, rather, my lack thereof.

Emotions I have.  Like most borderlines, I’m extremely emotional.  They come on fast and often overwhelm me.

But then there’s feeling.  On occasion I feel frustrated, but mostly bored.  Sometimes, I feel a flush of affection for my children and, more frequently, a flush of sheer terror at the thought of them being taken away from me.  But the majority of the time, I don’t feel anything.  That’s the thing that frightens me.

I think that’s the main reason I can’t keep a relationship.  I can spend time with a man and enjoy his company, but I feel nothing…

View original post 270 more words

Posted in This 'n that | Leave a comment

Looking for an answer

If you check out my other blogs recent posts, you can see what’s been going on.

Last night my right leg became completely useless.  Something that hasn’t happened since before I met my second ex-husband – at least 10 years.  I was so pissed about it, I bawled like a baby feeling sorry for myself.  I even posted on Facebook about how much God must hate me for allowing that to happen the day after I realized that I missed Him.

Of course I realize today that the enemy was screwing with me, the way he likes to mess with anyone showing a glimmer of faith in God.

BTW, my leg is working today.

I’m starting a book I bought a while ago.  Becoming Myself by Stasi Eldredge.  Since who the heck am I is the most inundating question going on in my head right now, now seemed like a good idea to start with this book and it’s study guide.

I’ve also started a Facebook group to see if anyone wants to join me.

Posted in My other blog, This 'n that | Tagged , , | Leave a comment


I wrote this the day before I turned 41.  I ended it with “I’d rather 42 never came.”

Well, 42 came yesterday.

Things are quite different than they were a year ago.

I still suffer from a great deal of physical pain and a mental disorder, but I’m doing much better.

Thanks primarily to my 17yo son, I’m starting to realize that I am the best mother for my children.  And they do love me and need me like I need them.

I met a man about 8 months ago who can only have been sent by God.  He’s been witness to many of my mental meltdowns and has stuck by me, being about the only one who has said he knows that the nutcase I become when I have a meltdown is not the real me.  We’ve split up about 6 times, but can’t really stay away from each other.  I drastically hurt him a few weeks ago by breaking up with him quite abruptly.  I had realized that I needed him, and it terrified me and made me feel like I was being too weak and not relying on God enough.  Then I realized that needing someone wasn’t a bad thing and oddly enough, he still wanted to be with me and so we’re back together.

I am, however, 42 and not doing much.

I am doing better at maintaining a relatively clean home.  I’m doing a little better at being involved in my kids schooling and activities.

But it’s still not up to my satisfaction.

However, I’m much more able to be forgiving of myself for having to do absolutely everything in tiny baby steps.  I think that makes a pretty big difference.

Having to do things small and slow doesn’t make you weak anymore than needing someone does.  Actually, I think it makes you smart.  Jumping in the lake head first and seeing if you can swim probably doesn’t work very often, and quite honestly, that’s how I often tended to do things; which probably accounts for my many, many failures.

So, for now, I’m just going with the flow, trusting God more and trusting myself more.

I still wish I could see some type of a future for me; a future that involves some type of accomplishment.  I still see nothing ahead of me.  I’m starting to wonder if my only accomplishment will be to have my kids like me enough that I can move in with them when I get old.

I can honestly say, however, that the lack of future foresight isn’t quite as scary or depressing as it was a year ago.

Even at 42, God isn’t finished with me yet, and I’m far less finished with me than I used to be.

Maybe that’s an accomplishment in itself.


Posted in life | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

The Sum of My Life

In the beginning I was extremely intelligent, could sing, and could write creatively.

My body has never worked well.  As a child I was too tall and skinny and would twist an ankle every time I ran – I also had scoliosis, which makes the ability to bend or jump quite limited.

Things got really bad during my second pregnancy and between that one and the third, I could walk only with a cane, if at all.

Chronic tendinitis developed in my right wrist (and I am right handed) over the years till it became debilitating about 5 years ago.  On bad days, I can’t hold a pencil or wipe my own ass.  I’ve had to learn to do a lot of things left handed and I don’t do any of them well.

Then I had a mental break down 2 and a half years ago.  My brain basically emptied of everything that meant anything to me.  It fell to pieces and still hasn’t sorted itself out.

Thus end my intelligence.  I can get confused trying to follow a recipe.

I haven’t been able to write creatively in a long time.  I can’t even spell words correctly.  Long ago I tried to read a book I think was called Intensity by Dean Koontz…I didn’t get past the first chapter because he descriptive style painted too real a picture.  I’ve tried to read a different Dean Koontz novel recently and I can’t.  He describes everything in such minute detail it bores me.  But it doesn’t paint a picture anymore.  Not even a vague one.

Thus ends my creativity.  I couldn’t even create an invitation for my dad’s 70th birthday party.

As for singing, I’m getting deafer as time goes on.  I already have one hearing aid and will soon have two.  And besides, the joy I used to have in singing is gone.  I spent all last summer trying to find it again and it wasn’t there.

Thus ends my singing.

So what sums up my life now?


Just 3 children I gave birth to, one who has nothing to do with me, one who hates me one day and tolerates me the next, and one who prefers her aunt because she has the means to give her more than I can.

So, nothing.

Thus is the sum of my life.


Posted in This 'n that | Leave a comment

How do you get a life when all you’ve done is exist?



Posted in This 'n that | Leave a comment

With Age Comes Wisdom

Have you ever reread a book many years after the previous time?

I’ve been doing that recently and I’ve noticed some interesting things.

For example, I just finished rereading the 1990 republication of  The Stand by Stephen King.  I read that book many, many times back in my late teens and early 20’s.  I thought it was a great book and my paper back copy got a serious work out.

I’m 41 now.  I still think it’s a great book, but I understood it in such a different way, that I was quite surprised by it.

In my younger years, I liked it because  the characters were interesting, the story was exciting and I could identify with the young pregnant woman, Fran, because I was young and pregnant at one time too.

This time, in my older years, I still enjoyed it for the same reasons but also because my years of life experience allowed me to understand concepts in the story that I didn’t quite get when I was younger.  I understand the workings of governments, conspiracies, cover ups and such things so much more now.  And understanding those things made the story far richer and deeper to me now than it ever did when I was 20.

It was a happy surprise.

Wisdom really does come with age.   Unfortunately, you have to get to that age before you believe that idea to be true.

The point of all this really has nothing to do with The Stand but with another book I’ve just started to reread.  It’s called She Makes It Look Easy by Marybeth Whalen.

Now, I don’t really want to sit here and type out the synopsis of that book, but I will recommend it, especially to married moms.

What I will say is that it has two main characters, Ariel and Justine.  Ariel is a married mother of three young boys, as is Justine but with two young girls.  Ariel is new to the upscale neighborhood and spends a fair amount of time comparing herself to Justine (who appears to be the perfect wife and mother) and finding herself falling short to her chagrin.

Now I’m coming to the point of this blog post…

When I read this book the first time a few years ago, I totally identified with Ariel.  I spent a great deal of time feeling humiliated and ashamed of myself when I compared myself to other married moms (this was primarily with the women I knew at the church I used to go to back when everything went to hell for me).  They all seemed so perfect.  What houses I visited were, not perfectly clean and tidy, but far more orderly than mine was.  These mother’s coached sports teams for their kids and had them involved in all sorts of neat activities that mine never did (as for coaching, it was to everyone’s benefit that I never even considered involving myself in such a thing).  I was certain that their happy marriages weren’t just a facade they put on like mine was.  They dressed up like princesses for their daughter’s birthday parties.  I’d never even held a birthday party (with other children there) for any of my kids ever.

What kind of a horrible mother was I?

Or that’s what I thought for a long time.

This time reading She Makes It Look Easy, I’m only into the fourth chapter and I don’t identify with Ariel at all.  In fact, she kind of disgusts me.

She compares Justine’s perfect home to her own and feels embarrassed.  All I can think as I read is, “Seriously lady?  You have three little boys and expect to have a house that would cover a home decorating magazine?  Why would you care about that?”

She compares her pale skin and I-bore-three-children shaped body to Justine’s perfectly tanned and toned figure and feels self-conscious.  All I can think as I read is, “Please!  Why can’t women quit worrying about dumb-ass crap like that!”

Then it came to me as I was reading while having a cigarette on the back step: I’m a good mom.

I don’t have my children enrolled in a bunch of activities.  The main reason is I couldn’t afford it if I wanted to.  The equally important other reason is that busyness is one of the downfalls of today’s society and I will not subject my children to that.

My house is less than spectacular.  But I really don’t care.  There are things that are difficult for me to do for physical and mental reasons and that really is why things don’t get done quite like I want them to .  But in all honesty, I was always a shitty housekeeper.  The main reason for that is that I learned what was really important when I was going to college.  College leaves little time for anything other than studying and working on assignments.  Since I was a single mother of two young boys at the time, I chose to spend what little free time I had with them instead of working at keeping my house orderly.  Besides, trying to keep a house clean with young children living in it is like trying to shovel a sidewalk during a blizzard.

I’m 41 years old and weigh 175 lbs and I know plenty of mom’s who are lighter in weight than I am.  Now, if you’ve been reading my blog for a while you know where I stand on body image issues.  Besides, like an employee at a Safeway told me about 20 years ago, God only made so many perfect bodies and the rest He skimped on.

Have I made my point yet?  Not sure if I did.  Well here it is anyway:

I’m proud of me.  I am content with how I look.  I am content with how I keep my house (although if someone could invent a smart phone app that would wash the dishes, I’d be even more content).  And above all, I think I’m doing a pretty good job raising my kids.  I think it says a lot when a 16-year-old boy will say out loud to his mom and to other people that he thinks his mom is pretty good at being a mom.

So, yes, I am proud of me.



That’s all I wanted to say.



Posted in Kids, This 'n that | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment