My angel

For as long as I can remember, Jake and I have prayed before bed.  And I always thank God for letting me be Jake’s mom.  I say this out loud, so that Jake hears it.  It’s just something I do…I think it’s important for Jake to know that no matter how grumpy I get that I am cherishing the role that God has given me. 

So tonight we are praying.  Sometimes Jake prays, sometimes he doesn’t, but he usually wants me to go first.  Tonight was no different.  I pray and then it is Jake’s turn.  He runs through his usual what he’s grateful for: this space that we have to live in, mom, dad….etc.  Then he adds a sentence that is new.  He says, “Thank you for letting be my mom’s son.  And my dad’s son.”

I was so impressed with him.  I usually am.  He amazes me everyday.  I try not to take it for granted, but I’m sure I don’t appreciate like I should.  I do know that I don’t know what I would do without him.  He has one of the best senses of humor that I have ever heard.  He does a Christopher Walken impression.  It’s turned into quite a routine.  It is absolutely hilarious. 

I was holding him and told him that he must be an angel.  He says, “Yep, all I’m missing is a halo and some wings.”  I agree, son, I agree,

And I just thank God that I seem to have done something right.  With His help, of course.

D-day

Tomorrow morning, I will go to my attorney’s office and sign the divorce papers.  I am not certain how I feel about this.  There is no question that I was not happy in the marriage.  It appears to me that was his goal, for me to be miserable and insecure.  And I was, but not enough so to stay and put up with it.  He is so convinced of my insecurity, that he believes and tells me that I am so insecure that I would not leave him unless I had someone to leave him for.  Huh.  I am not and have not pursued dating or a relationship, because I am still legally married.  I do not understand how people can start a relationship before the previous one has officially ended.  I guess I am just old-fashioned that way. 

As I have told people about tomorrow, some have expressed excitement for me.  I can’t feel excited.  I don’t know what I feel.  Bittersweet?  No one plans on getting a divorce.  I am sad for the divorce, but glad to be out of the marriage.  I will be content to be done with the divorce proceedings and have it legally DONE.

These past couple of weeks, I have contemplated the future and what I would like that to hold for me.  I thought I would be fine staying single the rest of my life.  This marriage wreaked havoc on my soul and my spirit.  I could not imagine putting myself through that again.  But I reminded myself that all men are not like that.  I, with God’s leading, have a choice in who I marry.  It can will be wonderful and fun and what people dream about marriage being.

I am glad that I am not bitter and angry.  I mourn what could have been.  Writing this was just the boost that I needed to move on in a positive and healthy way.

Thankful, indeed

This is eye-opening. What do you spend on food for a week?

Crazy back

Working on a psych unit, you know I have the good stories.  And access to the good drugs.  I have a demographic of my least favorite patients and one of my favorite. 

My least favorite are the ones who suffer, or perhaps they enjoy it, from   Borderline Personality Disorder. Read about it. It is a suffer-able disease. I abhor the personality disorder, particularly this one. MOST particularly in the male species. Whiny men who are manipulative and at the same time, try to pick up on the female staff, well that is just disgusting. I may date/marry crazy men, but this information I come to realize after we go out/get married.  Not before.  A psych unit is not a good place to dip into the dating pool. 

My faves are the demented. I have a particular fondness for the elderly demented. I like dementia because these people have no control over their illness or thoughts, which are usually quite delusional.
And many of their delusions are fixed. For example, a patient who has called me Cindy every time I have worked for the past few shifts. She calls me Cindy and no one else. So I let her call me Cindy. I go with it. I give her “crazy back.” Well, I am gathering that she is NOT a big fan of Cindy’s, or mine for that matter. With this diagnosis, patients are usually fine in the morning, but as the day wears on, they begin to lose their sense of reality and may even begin to hallucinate. This happens with our little lady. She gets around in a wheelchair and is quite strong. She was going in places that she shouldn’t. I was trying to help. THAT DID NOT GO OVER WELL.

“Damn it, Cindy, I hope you drop dead right here!” She would shout at me.
I offered to get her some coffee, thinking it would help take her mind off of her, clearly, fixed delusions. It crossed my mind that giving a hot beverage to an angery, demented person may or may notbe a good idea. It was NOT a good idea. I brought her coffee and she requested more cream, to which I obliged. She then tossed her little cup o’ java right at me. My cat like reflexes and I were able to avoid any real harm, other than a slight burn on my wrist/hand. Well, now she was pissed. And still armed with half a cup of hot coffee. And she was looking for a target. Quickly thinking, and not wanting her to hurt herself or anyone else, I grabbed her shaky hand and poured the coffee on the floor. So many patients have urinated on the floor, I figured the coffee could only improve the smell. She then started on a tirade of cuss words, I am not even comfortable typing. This lady was cursing like a sailor. While wearing her Sunday best. I was in shock and awe. I have heard some people cuss, but none like that, and none quite that age.

And that is an example of how crazy back works with patients.