MomZilla

It's amazing what a couple rounds of therapy can do.  I've never even thought about going to talk to someone before.  I've usually been able to rein myself in and move on, but I was so stuck on oher people's issues I couldn't move past it all.  All I needed was someone to tell me, it's not my fault, I shouldn't feel any guilt, I can't change anything about other people, so focus on myself and be happy!  It took two therapy sessions and I'm back to me!

I'm good, I'm happy, I'm ready to get married, and not worry about things that I can't change.

With that being said-- I'm getting married in less than 4 months! The time has flown.  All of the big decisions were made early on. Now it's just the fun stuff like menu, gifts, timelines, and of course paying the bills!  The only negative thing hanging over my head is that my mother is turning into a MomZilla!  The words that are coming out of her mouth are shocking.  I'm going to start keeping track of them and in a year show her what she said.  I think she'll be embarassed, but right now they just come out of her mouth!

The most recent was "You know, I was at a wedding last week and someone told me that the wedding is really all about the bride's parents".  Another great one was "I don't want to be introduced because I don't want all the attention on me.  I think it's pretentious for your father and I to be introduced, people already know who we are".  Guess what, all the attention won't be on you AND half the people there will not know who you are!  The worst was "We are paying for it, so at the end of the day, it's our choice".  I know that this is true since they are footing the bill, but it just sounds so awful coming out of a person's mouth.  I think she will be aphalled in 12 months.

I'm now changing my approach to the planning.  I'm handling it just like I would a project at work.  I'm scheduling calls with her and setting agendas.  I follow up the calls with an email outlining our next steps.  So far, so good.  We will see...

Sincerely,
Sophie

better

I feel so much better.  I've been avoiding the blog because I didn't know what to write.  I wasn't feeling inspired.  I think that I tend to write more when somethig is bothering me.  It helps me sort through my thoughts and try to make some sense out of the chaos in my head.  After therapy I started realizing what was important to focus on.  Family was in town this weekend, and I'm beginning to feel more peaceful.  I don't have much to say right now, but will hopefully write an update soon.  I just felt awful knowing that the last post I wrote was the last thing I'd written.  I'm getting better :)

sad

I'm feeling very sad today.  It's hard to explain.  So much has happened over the past 6 months and I tried to be strong and it's all catching up with me. It's making my stomach hurt.

I've always been a positive person, and have only wished for happiness in my life.  Every birthday candle wish, every shooting star, is all used up to wish for happiness.  Part of me thinks I'm jinxing it by even putting it out there, but since this is an anonymous blog, maybe the bad luck won't find me.

But yes, happiness.  And whenever I found myself not so happy, I'd make a plan, to get happy again.  Whether it was a job, or my college major, or a friend who I was upset with, I'd make a plan.  I always had control to get happy.

But right now I feel like I'm stuck.  I'm not happy, and I don't know how to make a plan.  And maybe because I don't really understand what's going on.  And until I fully understand it, I can't make a plan to get better.  But without a plan I'm just swimming in the sadness.  There are moments when I can surface and float and just breathe.  But other times I just feel like the waves come crashing and I only surface for one quick second, enough to get another breath in before I go back under.  I don't feel like I'm drowning, just swimming in rough waters sometimes.

I'm sure my friends and family are tired of hearing me complain about my issues.  I appreciate them because they always listen.  But the advice is always the same.  "Just forget about it, there's nothing you can do."  But there's always something you can do.  I should have control over how I feel and react to stuff, and if I react in a sad way, then that's just how I'm going to react. I can't push it away or push it down, it will just come back or resurface--- probably in a worser form.  Is worser a word?

So I've got to find a way.  Got to get back to good.   Back to good ol' Sophie.  I'm not in control right now, but I need to get in control.  The last time I felt like this, like I had no control, was when I was in a really awful relationship with a guy in college.  He would ignore my calls while out getting high with friends, or only call me when he got home wasted.  I mean there were good times too which is why I kept holding on, but I just remember sitting in my dorm room so upset and sad just wishing that things would get better.  They finally did--- two years later when he broke up with me.  How awful.  I knew I wasn't happy but instead of making a plan to get happy, I just took the bad, and left my fate in someone elses hands.

But in the current situation, it's not boy problems that's bothering me, it's blood. It's my own brother.  He's pushing us away because he's got a screwed up wife telling him awful things about his family.  Making up lies to convince him that he shouldn't "side" with us. He's asked for space so he can work on his relationship with his wife.  At first he said we were to not change our behavior just because she wasn't right in the head.  And now he's asking for space.  That's definitely a change in behavior.  I mean I have to give him the space or else I look just as messed up as she does.  But I'm afraid that after we've given him his space, he's not going to come back.

He's my brother.  He's supposed to be one of the four people in my life that are going to still be there when everyone else turns their back on me.  My mom, my dad, my fiance, and my brother.   If my own brother can do this to me, then who else can do it? And this all just comes back to where I feel like I have no control.  What I need to make me happy is for my brother to still be there for me.  And he's not.  I don't know how to be okay if my brother's not there.  And I can't change that.

So where do I go from here?

Sincerely,
Sophie

if you can't stand the heat...

Whew! For some reason I've recently started cooking.  It might be that we have a new house with a kitchen that I can actually move around and also has a dishwasher.  It might be that I find it a bit theraputic.  It might be the new KitchenAid mixer that was recently given to us as a gift.  Not quite sure but I like cooking.

Only 6 months ago, my fiance did all the grocery shopping and all the cooking.  Lots of broccoli, lots of pork tenderloins, and many nights of crock pot chili.  Maybe it's my dislike for all of those items, but I've been cooking up a storm.  I scour the internet for different recipes and find old ones that my mom used to cook.  I find myself wandering up and down the aisles of the Super Wal Mart looking for just the right ingredients.  Don't knock the Super Wal Mart--- I really do get more for my money, the produce is as fresh as can be, and they have everything!

Recent meals have consisted of Chicken Kiev, homemade pizza (pineapple of course), Vodka Pasta with baked chicken, Spicy Sausage Balls, Chicken Enchilladas, and even steak quesadillas with Spanish rice.  I've been whipping up mashed potatos, homemade chocolate chip cookies, strawberry shortcake, and chocolate e-clair cake.  Who knew I had it in me?

The meals I've always cooked have been the same since I had to start cooking for myself sophomore year in college (freshman year doesn't count because it was all easy mac or dining hall food).  The meal I probably made the most was pasta with butter and parmesan cheese-- a gourmet meal I learned when I used to babysit a family up the street.  Sometimes I'd cook some chicken in a frying pan and head up my kroger brand canned green beans and some uncle bens microwavable rice.  When it was really time to entertain I'd make spaghetti- 1 lb of ground beef, ragu, and a box of spaghetti.  I have no clue how to make garlic bread, so the frozen texas toast would do the job!

So I don't know what's gotten into me?  Is it that my mom always cooked for the family and now that I'm helping run a household I feel the need to assume that roll?  Is it because I know I've let the fiance do all the cooking and I'm feeling guilty?  Is it because I like my food better than the fiance's?  Or is it that I can't sit still?  Probably a mixture of all of the above.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind kicking my feet up every now and then while the fiance fires up the grill, pulls the Omaha Steaks out of the freezer, and puts together a spinach salad. I don't mind it one bit. 

But for now I'll continue to cook... as long as I don't have to do this dishes.

Sincerely,
Sophie

girl, you crazy

I've probably called people crazy a bunch of times.  What I meant when I said it was that the person was not quite right.  Maybe close to right, but not all the way there.  Maybe they didn't agree with me or had a different approach to getting things done.  But for the first time in my life, I have met a crazy person.

And I feel like the word crazy doesn't do it justice.  The word is used so much in a joking and silly manner, that it deducts from the true meaning of the word. 

crazy- mentally deranged; demented; insane

CRAZY! I have a family member who is crazy!  My whole life I've been surrounded by loving, honest, healthy, caring people.  Friends and family who would bend over backwards for me-- even further back than I would for them.  When she first started acting crazy it was a shock.  She had been perfectly "not crazy" for the three years that we'd known her.  No red flags, no situations that we now look back on and say "we should have known".  Nothing. So when the crazy came out, it ripped us all apart.  Accusations of betrayal, distrust, and dishonesty. Twisted lies and worst of all- manipulationn of my brother.  There was hope for a while that he would see the crazy, but in the end, it's his wife.  He promised to have and to hold through sickness and in health. 

In sickness and in health.  I'm getting married in 6 months.  I'm about to utter those words as well.  In sickness and in health.  Before the crazy came out, I considered sickness as cancer, or the loss of a limb, or caring for someone after a horrible accident.  But now I realize sickness can be in a form of abuse.  How do you find it in you to have and to hold when someone's sickness is manipulation, forcing you to choose between your spouse and your family.  Sickness comes in so many forms that I'd never even thought of.  Where do you draw the line and how do you know when it's been crossed.

I feel for my brother--- but he doesn't want us to feel anything for him.  He wants to know we are here, but he doesn't need us.  It's hard.  I think about them every single day, yet he says I'm the one who's nuts because I care so much.

So I don't know what to do.  And deep down I know that there isn't anything I can do, I should just move on, and hope for the best.  But I can't. I dwell, and I worry, and I think.  And when I'm done dwelling and worrying and thinking, I'm right back where I started and I can't shake it.  Am I the one who's crazy?

Sincerely,
Sophie

Dear Diary

So I've always been a writer. I typically write for myself. It's not creative or interpretive, it's just honest. I've found that I typically write when something is bothering me. It's soothing and it lets me express exactly how I feel, and I'm the only one who has to understand it.

I have a diary that I first wrote in when I was in elementary school. I can remember going to the store at the mall with all the hello kitty and kerope items in it. Typically I would go and pick out a new pencil box or an eraser, but I remember finding a small pink "hello kitty" diary. It had a small metal lock and came with two keys. It had a lot of pages in it with sections of blue, purple, and pink. I remember using my money that I'd saved up to purchase it.

I still have the diary. I'd like to say that it keeps the secrets of my childhood but it doesn't. It contains a daily update of everything I did in that day.

Dear Diary,
Today, I went over to Blaine's house. We played hide and seek and played house in his treehouse. I ate dinner and my dad read me a book. I am tired. Goodnight!
Love, Sophie

I still have all of my diaries. Some with Mickey Mouse, one with a giant sunflower, one that looked "grown up" with vintage flowers, one with famous pieces of artwork, and one with pictures from a professional photographer.

As I got to middle school, there are more stories of mean girls and secret crushes. Stories of friends who were getting into drugs and confusion of why things were getting so complicated.

When I got to high school, I didn't write as much. When something was bothering me and I felt like I had no one to talk to, I would write. These entries speak primarily to my attempt to fit in, to be popular, to be liked, to be pretty, and the jealousy I had towards all my friends who I always felt were better than me. These entries were sporadic, but I always remember feeling better after putting it down on the floral pages of my diary.

Before I graduated from high school I bought a composition notebook. I remember thinking it was a much more mature diary and I decided I would stop writing "dear diary" and begin writing to actual people. I wrote letters to friends saying all the things I wish I could have said out loud. It felt good.

When I got to college, my composition notebook came with me. I didn't take as much time to write. There were a few letters to friends on nights in the dorm room when I couldn't sleep and was homesick. A few letters to the first real boyfriend I'd ever had--- these still make me cringe when I read them. Young and in "love" will make you say some silly cliche' things.

Then sophomore year came and I stopped writing all together. Not a word until the week before my senior graduation. That entry was one of the most honest things I've ever written and was an amazing reflection of what I'd been through over those three years. The silence that I had in that notebook for those three years speaks louder than anything I've ever written. I was happy to have my notebook back.

It's now been four years since I graduated college. The book has stayed with me and contains many new letters to friends, coworkers, and family members, each of them reflecting the growth I've gone through since my college years, the knowledge I've gained, and the maturity that comes with growing up and facing the real world.

So now, I type, and it feels good. I'm not sure what I have to say, but I figured I would at least give it a try.

Sincerely,
Sophie