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- Seeing the WP dashboard, the blank page waiting to be filled with whatever words poured out of my fingers, used to give me a feeling of... unlimited possibilities. This space was like an old boyfriend's hoodie, worn thin in places, always comfortable. No matter what was going on, I had this space. It was safe, it was... mine.
- When I couldn't write, I would read through my archives, or mess around with the layout, the about page, anything. Just being here was a comfort.
- Now? I find myself avoiding it. I hate to come here, because I'm left with a vague sense of unease, somehow feeling threatened. I hate that what was so important to me now feels tainted, no longer mine. I no longer feel like I can be honest here - every word I type is weighed carefully, mulled over and debated, trying to decide which is more important, my need to write it out, or the possibility of it being read by someone I don't want in my life, let alone my head. Will my words be twisted and used against me? What parts of my life must be hidden from view, because they may be misinterpreted? I'm no longer basing what I write or don't write on my own feelings of what I feel comfortable sharing here. Instead, it's based on my fears of who is reading here.
- I fully realize that this is a public blog, and that by clicking that little publish button, I'm putting whatever I write out there for anyone and everyone to read. But my thoughts, feelings, fears, and hopes... as strange as it may seem, I'm okay with perfect strangers reading and commenting. Because those strangers? Have no power over me... they can't hurt me, because I won't allow them to. I've made some amazing friends through this blog, people I can't imagine NOT having in my life. But those that are involved in my day to day life, that's where my problem is. I want it to be my decision what I tell them, what I share. I'm not comfortable with them having a clear view into my heart, my mind, my soul, that I pour out here. My ex? No longer has the right to those pieces of me. Instead, I choose carefully what I share with him, if it happens to be one of the good days/weeks where we're on speaking terms. We no longer have that unbroken connection holding us together, giving us insight into each others lives. My sister, who somehow knows about this blog (and I'm pretty sure I know how that happened), has no right whatsoever to know what I think or feel, unless I choose to tell her. And believe me, hell will freeze over before I turn to her for anything. That connection was broken repeatedly by her. I won't allow her to hurt me anymore, and she uses anything and everything she can get her hands on to twist the knife a little deeper into my back.
- Now? I have a chosen few who I allow into my heart. I share with them, unquestioning, because I have no doubts about their loyalty to me.
- But I can no longer do that here. I've seen blogs shut down because the writer "outgrew" their little home on the web. I haven't outgrown this space, not even close. But it's no longer what it used to be, at least not to me. Will I continue to write? Yes. I don't really think I have a choice. It's therapeutic to me, it's comforting, it's my way of working things out in my head. Will I continue to click publish when I write? I don't know. I'm weighing my options... do I continue here, password protecting any post that gives a glimpse into my life other than the daily bullshit? Do I create another space, somewhere completely different, and start over, leaving behind friendships and connections that I cherish? Do I risk leaving a trail by taking those I "know" with me? Because we all know that it's not hard to find someone online, if you know where to look. My comments left on other blogs will eventually lead back to wherever I am, if someone is willing to put the time into searching, and I have no doubt that there are those out there that would do that.
- For now... I'll just keep turning it over in my head, trying to decide what's best for me, what's safest, what's smartest. And I'll continue to try to control the anger that I'm feeling - anger that I've lost the ability to be honest here, that the decision has been taken from me. Anger, that once again, someone else is (indirectly) controlling what I do.
- Just a few hours ago, I updated my status on Facebook with something along the lines of "looking forward to a relaxing weekend at home, all set to be snowed in", blah, blah, blah. Yeah - I should know better than that!!! It's like saying "it can't get any worse"... because as soon as you say that, it does.
- Everyone patiently waited for the snow to start, the night and weekend stretching out in front of us, seemingly endless. Christopher had an uneventful day, calm and quiet, listening to the TV and kicking his baby piano to keep himself entertained. The teenager was hanging out playing xbox, nothing planned for tonight - tomorrow night is the night I was stupid nice enough to agree to host a bunch of teenage boys for some unknown reason. Dinner was quick and painless, our entertainment for the night being the dumbass drivers that can't seem to understand that snow/ice + speed + sharp turn = disaster. That, and the teenager rediscovering Matchbox cars. I may or may not have posted a video of that on facebook. He may or may not have threatened to accidentally step on the Flip video camera.
- As it got later, everyone drifted off to their beds (or in the case of the teenager and RC1 *roommate's visiting child #1*, the couch, because God forbid they travel more than 20 feet from the flat screen or xbox). That would be when the phone rang, the nursing agency letting me know that our nurse called out due to the snow. Completely understandable. I hate knowing that my warm and comfy bed is only being used by a 4 pound pomeranian while I'm trying to fall asleep in a recliner, but hey - it's part of the mom job. By midnight, everyone is asleep.
- I went outside for a few minutes (I don't smoke in the house), and just watched the snow fall, hardly able to believe how silent it was. We don't live in the city, but on a Friday night, the roads here are usually pretty busy. I came back in and clicked around from blog to blog, checking in on facebook, killing a little bit of time and just enjoying the peace and quiet, the solitude. Being that I promised the teenager and RC1 a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes bright and early in the morning... I decided maybe I should sleep some. I grabbed my pillow and blanket, being sure to disturb the dog in the process *hey, if I can't sleep in my bed, dammit, I'm not gonna leave her there all curled up and cozy.* Double checked Christopher's feeding pump (enough formula so it won't beep in 3 hours and wake me up? check), his diaper (clean and dry), and the settings on his alarms, and started to get myself situated in the (comfortable to sit in but not so much to sleep in) recliner. And then he started coughing. Not just a little throat tickle cough, but the type of cough that's so harsh and deep that he was gagging and retching. Despite changing his position 37 times and turning off his feeding (reflux acting up?), the coughing continued for about 2 hours. Just as he'd get comfortable and start to doze, it would start again. I didn't even bother to try to sleep, just kept trying to keep him from choking. The coughing stopped as suddenly as it started - still not sure what triggered it. By then, it's about 3:30 am - so of course the landlord's brother shows up to plow the driveway. And the entire time his lights are shining in Christopher's door, right in my face, as he goes up and down the driveway for over half an hour. Look, guy, I really appreciate the fact that I don't have to shovel this driveway. It's really sweet of you to plow it. I'm sure there's a reason you do it at 0'dark thirty Every.Fucking.Time.It.Snows. But please... I just want to SLEEP. He must have felt me glaring at him through the door, because he left just after 4am. Ahh.... finally. Sleep. Maybe I can get in a full 3 hours before getting woken up? I hope. Finally I'm curled up under my blanket, debating if I can keep my eyes open long enough to read a chapter in Dear John. And that's when Chris starts seizing. In case you don't know, that isn't unusual, at all. Seizures are daily occurrences for him. A good portion of them we can just let go untreated, or simply swipe him with his VNS magnet (think reset switch - sends an electrical pulse through the Vagal Nerve to the brain, hopefully stopping the seizure). But not tonight. His oxygen levels drop down into the 70's, the magnet isn't doing a thing, his breathing is ragged, and he's completely wiped out from the seizures. He's getting a few second break in between, but they're just not stopping. I give him a dose of valium (suppository form) and hope for the best. It usually works within 2 minutes, except this time... well, let's just say what went in came right back out. Through the diaper, the mattress pad, and the sheet. Yay. At 4:30am. When no one is awake to help me get him out of his bed and both him and the sheets changed. Okay. Suck up the pain and do it. Done. Now, do I give him another dose? Because I really don't know if this one got absorbed... but, once he has a second dose of the valium in a 24 hour period, we go on standby to 911. A normal dose of valium for an adult is 0.5 mg (that is HALF a mg). Christopher's dose? 20 mg. That's TWENTY. So, yeah, it's a lot - and it depresses the respiratory system, so he can't have more than 2 doses in a 24 hour period. If he's still seizing at that point, it's an ambulance ride to the ER, and usually heavy duty sedation til the seizure activity finally stops.
- Now? It's just after 5:30, the valium kicked in (his, not mine) and he's finally stopped seizing. He's drifting off to sleep now. Me? I'm afraid to go near that recliner and try to sleep again... But tomorrow today is going to be a long day filled with loud teenage boys, and if I don't want to wind up in jail or the psych ward, sleep might be a good idea.
- And I should never have typed that. Because Chris is coughing again, and now the landlord's son is riding his quad in the driveway - at 5fucking45 am.
- Earplugs. That's what I need right now. And a week in the Bahamas.
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