I am overflowing with unsaid no's: No, I  hate that dress -- No, that  doesn't feel good -- No, I  won't touch you there -- No, I'll  never do that -- No, I  don't love you -- No, you're  not my father -- No -- No -- No!

[the above rant inspired by a suggestion: "freewrite the word No" ... I probably could keep going, but it is taking me to uncomfortable & emotional places -- places I'm choosing not to visit right now]

My husband is so deliciously wonderful. As you know, I've been feeling quite ill, and it seems that since I've been on this antibiotic I've been even  worse: I've been drudging pointlessly around the house, bitchin at the smallest, stupidest things, and quite grumpy overall. I have not been easy to live with the past few days.

This morning, hubby got up, entertained the bit, took her into the bathroom in her bouncer seat while he had his shower, and kept her busy until it was time for him to go to work.

I got to sleep in!

I woke up rather mortified -- feeling guilty for "taking advantage of him." But he says they had a lovely time, and I got some extra shut-eye, so it worked out quite nicely.

I'm really glad I married the guy.

(1:14:22 pm)

This just came bursting out of me. Please be forewarned that it is graphic & intense. I can't seem to stop crying now, so I'm going to turn off the computer for awhile.

(gritting teeth, taking deep breath)

... So ... I had therapy this morning; which ended up being a Very Good Thing because I was pretty fucked up after my "just say no rant" . (Don't go there more than once, ok? thank you)

Spug tends toward the Christian way of thinking which is "all people are born in  sin - nobody is born good." This hasn't ever been a problem for me. Until today.

I call this the Judeo - Christian Dilemma. Here it is (in as much of a nutshell as I can wrap it in):

1) My father repeatedly told me how awful, evil, horrible and bad I was.

2) I have spent almost 6 years trying to undo those "lies."

3) If I choose to live in a "Christian" mindset, I have to believe that I really  am awful, evil and bad (aka: a sinner).

How can this be? How can I believe that I am maybe not bad/ at fault for what happened to me, and yet still believe that I am a sinner? I think that is one thing that has bugged the hell out of me about fundamental christians -- they always come back to blame -- it's *your fault* because you are bad. It's that old damn  sin nature. And that was my father's excuse. He would rape me, torture me, and then beg for God's forgiveness because he was "only human; a mere sinner."

Fucking hypocrite!

He deliberately hurt me, fully aware that he:

1) was a sinner (couldn't help it)

2) would be forgiven.

I find something very wrong with this picture. And ... should I ever decide to embrace Judeo Christianity, I have to lower myself to the scum that my father always said I was -- which is to admit that he was right -- and he was not right!

If there are *any* genuine "Christians" out there (and all other people with opinions), please explain your take on this. I want to know how you get around this -- not necessarily because I want to be a "Christian," but because I feel ignorant and more than a little confused.

Heh.

I'm watching the 4 destructive little girls. They are attempting to break into the laundry room while simultaneously squirting each other with a faucet on the wall. They are in brightly coloured t-shirts & denim shorts -- they look like a citrus basket.

Speaking of clothes, the bit and I did our first mommy-daughter match day. It is so fucking nauseating -- I swore I would never do this ... but I did it more as a gift for hubby than for anything else. And I  swear I will never do it in matching flowery dresses with lace collars.

The bit and I both wore yellow t-shirts and denim overalls down to san diego. Hubby loved it; I actually thought it was fun; the bit had no clue what was going on. C saw us and smiled from ear to ear -- I think it made her day. She was determined to take pictures, but I escaped with the bit before that could happen. I will not allow my foolishness to be recorded permanently -- with the exception of this journal, of course.

It was fun because it was a tom-boyish sort of thing, and we both are afuckingdorable in our overalls and shirts; besides my mother never did anything like that with me.

Listen to me making excuses ... what a fucking sap!!

I admit it -- it was cheesy; it was stupid; it was girlish and sexist and demeaning.

know what else?

It was fun!

I am so unbelievably fucked.

Last night I made herbal chicken - it's chicken cooked in lemon juice, a bit of butter, thyme & basil - and fettucine alfredo. It was delicious.

Hubby & I laid the bit on the floor, and sat down with her and ate picnic style. We had the front door wide open, and the birds were chirping, and it was very relaxing and enjoyable. This is my favourite thing about daylight savings time -- getting to have dinner in the light (Natural light).

The baby is getting to the age where she can semi-entertain herself, especially if we're around and she can watch us ...

... Which reminds me of a tangent I wanted to go on: When I drive to therapy, I put the bit in the front seat next to me. Until recently, she was content to fall asleep and snooze the entire trip. Now she decides she's going to watch me. And she does. She watches me the entire drive. It makes me so nervous. She sits there and sucks her hands, and ... stares.

I am continually pulling the sun shade over her seat, trying to get myself blocked from view, but it doesn't go down far enough. I can't even begin to explain how uncomfortable it is.

Hubby said last night, "honey, you're her role model..." and I just about spit out my chicken. I tell ya, having a child is enough reason to get your shit together.

(/end tangent)

... So dinner was lovely, and we were in bed by 9, and hubby took the bit this morning so I got to sleep in, but I still feel utterly disgusting, and if this sinus infection doesn't go away soon I think I'm going to go into a coma just to spite it.

I took the bit on a long walk this morning.

We went down to the duck pond, and sat on one of the benches for a little while. My heart stopped when I looked into the water and thought I saw the swan at the bottom. He is a nasty fierce creature, but I hate to see anything die.

I crept a little closer down the embankment and saw that it was just somebody's trash. What a phrase: just ... somebody's ... trash. It really pissed me off. There are trash bins near every building around this complex -- it takes an inconsiderate dweeb to completely avoid one, and throw their plastic milk jug in the lake. Give me a fucking break.

I got up and walked the bit around to the back of the complex -- near those high & lofty apartments with the ocean view. (ooh la la) As we were meandering around, I realised that -- ocean view or not -- I wouldn't want to live there. Too noisy from the nearby freeway, too far from the lake, and too poorly laid out. Bleh.

We circled back and stopped at the lake again. I was happy to see that the plastic had disappeared; whether it floated to another part or was removed, I have no idea. However, in order to get even remotely near our apartment without a zillion steps, I had to pass the swan.

I do not like the swan.

He nibbles at my feet -- fast and sharp enough to draw blood -- he makes crude and obnoxious noises -- he will not let anyone go by without attacking them. I  know the kids around here are mean to him, and that is simply not fair. But that doesn't mean that I have to like him just because I feel sorry for him.

I was nervous to pass the swan with the bit in the stroller because I didn't want the swan to nip at her face. So I lifted the stroller up near my chest, and began to scoot by. As predicted, the little fuck snapped at my ankles and grabbed my sweat pants in between his beak (I almost wrote teeth, but I'm not sure that swans  have them); I struggled to get him to let go because the bit was getting heavy, I just wanted to get home & I do not have patience for insolent swans.

I made it past -- but geez, it was such an ordeal.

[by the way, I typed in part of the text from Jamison's book: "An unquiet mind." It is incredibly powerful; gave me goosebumps again -- just as it did the first time. You can either scroll around until you find it in the sidebar, or use this handy dandy internal link. Just prepare to be in awe; she is an amazingly honest and expressive woman.]

She has her next chemo on Monday, and I feel sad for her. Bleh.

I received an e-mail that inquired what the outcome was to the great judeo-christian dilemma I mentioned earlier this week; what persuasive arguments had been made in either direction; what input I'd received.

I'm planning on making this topic an extended rant/rave ... with some of what I have received plus some ideas I've been batting around with some friends ... I'll be sure to put that link here, when it's completed. Hopefully I can finish it within the next week or so, but I don't really know. I  do know that I need some time to finish assembling my thoughts before I make them public.

I've considered changing the title of the journal from blatant tori amos plagairism to something that was inspired by an entry last week -- even made the title graphic for it .... but I'm rather fond of under the pink, and it fits in well with the synchronicity of my home page (all the main links are p words or phrases). Maybe I'll use the new idea next year.

oof. Next year sounds so very far away.

"The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life. Rarely do members of one family grow up under the same roof." (Richard Bach: Illusions)

I woke up crying and scared, trembling and feeling sick to my stomach; reaching for my husband, who was not there.

It is a gorgeous day.

There is a  perfect cloud hanging in the sky right above the computer, (it is incredibly distracting, too) the birds are chirping, a cool breeze is blowing and there are no maintenance people doing anything noisy in our part of the complex.

A pair of doves have decided to make their nest right outside our front door in the under eaves of our roof. They have dropped sticks all over our grill, our chairs, and our welcome mat. Last night hubby looked up at the female dove and said: "watch yourselves now, you're making a mess of our front porch!" It cracked me up.

This birdly commotion is driving our 3 cats insane.

Lewis usually hogs the front row seat, and hunches down over his paws, his tail flapping about, his whiskers shaking, his mouth partially open. Caspian sits right behind him (if they weren't distracted by the birds, they'd be fighting each other for space invasion), her ears pointed back, her tail flitting, her eyes wide. Aslan takes up the rear, folded down on herself, tail motionless, except for the very tip which flicks up and down as she wiggles her butt around.

All 3 of them emit these pathetic hiccuping little mews; annoying the hell out of me. I've been tempted to let them out the front door -- the birds are entirely safe up there -- just to help them eliminate some of that restless energy. But they have always been indoor cats; they are declawed (apartment rules at our previous place) and spoiled ... they would get into far too much trouble out in the real world.

My sinus infection is getting better. The mumplike pain and swelling has almost entirely gone away, and I can turn my head again. I still have raging sinus headaches and pressure, but it is less intense than it was.

I guess I won't have to go into a coma, after all. Pity. I was rather looking forward to the break from reality.

(2:54:17 pm)

I have been thinking lately about the nature of evil; the nature of humanity -- whether we are truly born "good" or "bad;" how the darkness develops in us.

It's difficult to find somewhere to put the responsibility. I look at serial murderers; child abusers; psychotic rapists; kidnappers -- the whole fucked genre of people who hurt other people and get pleasure out of it -- and I don't know who to blame.

I realise that there is something to being raised by sadistic mentally ill parents, and ending up one yourself. But there are exceptions. There are enough exceptions that I don't think it is a necessary result.

So is it society's fault? Is it that we neglect to give our children the attention and morality they need in order to grow up to be productive "healthy" adults?

How about our schools? Is it that we don't pray in them and thereby scar kids for life by not allowing them to whisper up a "help me" before the big math exam?

Really.

If humankind is born "good," than what makes us bad? And if humankind is born "bad" than how can some people (without divine intervention) be so wonderful and loving?

And who's fault is it that things get muddled up in the middle? ... How can someone who was an honour roll student and a loving son end up murdering 7 teenagers and videotaping the homicides?

I'd like to take credit for the fact that I'm striving to be nothing like my family of origin. And to some degree I have worked hard enough and wanted to be healthy badly enough to believe that I have some choice in that. But why was I spared my father's schizophrenia?

What is the difference between the hidden darkness in all of our hearts, and the public darkness that we so despise in other people?

It's not like I haven't thought of things before ... it's that it has never mattered as much as it does now. See, I have a 5 month old daughter. And I realise that I brought her into a fucked up world; with people who are fucked up and parents who don't have their shit together though they sometimes pretend they do.

I don't want her to be the victim of a serial killer or rapist. I don't want her to have to face the evil that I faced in my father's bed.

I was surfing web rings today because I wanted to show the bit off; I wanted to get lots of email that said: "your daughter is gorgeous, girlfriend!" ... So I went to the webring and I looked under babies. Aside from finding a lot of beanie baby sites, I found one web ring for November babies, and a couple of others.

As I began to sign up the daily bit, I felt my heart start to pound. I closed netscape and sat back against the chair, breathing heavily.

I've got to be careful. Not just because of my background (although that is reason enough), but because I could jeopardize my child with just a few key strokes. The world is not beautiful. It is full of pain, darkness, wickedness.  I am full of pain, darkness & wickedness.

... I am a little world made cunningly ...