This has been an incredibly hard week. Anika attacked me and scorned my efforts and was cruel to me. I feel drained and devalued every time I think about it.

Gabe (my little brother, emotionally, who I love more than any blood kin except Ace) revealed that he doesn't see me as a person and that he is transphobic. He posted a 'joke' about Caitlyn Jenner and when I commented (which took a herculean effort), he edited the post to fill it up with the reasons he thinks transphobia is fine. That is so much worse than I thought. I was assuming that he was just ignorant, but apparently he knows and simply chooses to believe that being queer or trans is wrong. I couldn't even deal with that. I tried to post a response comment but it either got deleted or didn't go through and I just couldn't post again. This is a sharp pain every time I remember it. It means I have no chance of being loved by the first people who ever made me feel appreciated and valued. It's effectively formal notice that if I were to reach out to them, I would be rejected without possibility of them reconsidering.

And then there was that realization I had on Christmas eve that my bioparent M (who is rich) suggested that my aunt give my cousin a flight to Japan for a graduation present (this was in a group email).  M did not offer such a gift to me and it seems to not even have occurred as a thought. Not only that, but I asked M for help with money this month because my work is closed for three weeks and then the pay cycle is exactly off so that the next paycheck I will get is three weeks into January.  Rather than responding, M forwarded an email from the terrible HOA who constantly complain about my yard.  No, I'm not going to fucking rake the leaves because that serves NO PURPOSE and DAMAGES the plants and the insects who need those leaves for cocooning.  Seriously.  M claims to give a shit about me, but can't be moved to help me when I need it, while giving money to my siblings and cousins etc who don't actually need it, because M wants their good opinion.  Also, while making more than 300% what P is making -- PLUS full military retirement -- M is requiring P to pay half of the bills at their place. They're married.  M is a fucking awful person -- the financial evil is honestly one of their lesser faults. 

Then my pibling and cousins (who live very close) call me on Christmas to tell me merry christmas, leaving a voicemail??? when they didn't fucking invite me and haven't, literally ever.  I just felt like that was a slap in the face.  Just pretend that you forgot I existed, like all the other times.  Don't rub my face in it.

Topaz' family reminded me how I have (almost) never gotten a thoughtful gift from my parents (because they gave me and Topaz thoughtful presents) and also gave me smelly presents (body spray, lotion) that reminded me of just how bad M's 'gifts' were. Plus I'm really fucking stressed about money and about not having the truck dealt with and I have to get my tag renewed which means I have to go talk to Jeff who has been on hold with the truck in their lot for more than a month, thanks to M not keeping their promise. And Kylei was gone which would have been minor except I really needed another close person this week.

And then there's good, exciting, but nervousness-inducing stuff happening and people keep thinking that my upsetness is about that, which is also upsetting. (I'll explain in a locked post)

So I realized I'm in the midst of a depressive crash. I feel like a sodden lump of disgusting worthlessness. I keep flickering between desperately craving connection and wanting to avoid all people so that I don't inflict my irrational overemotional fearful upsetting energy on them. I'm dealing the best I can, putting my trust in my close ones to help me decide on the truth since I can't find it myself. I can't trust my memory or perceptions based on memory on a good day, and in depression it gets so much worse. The demons in my head jab at every sore spot, and I cannot rationalize them away because I can't remember facts that would counteract them.

Last night I brought up the idea to Topaz of having our parents meet and ze seemed hesitant about it. This upset me because it brought up feelings of invalidation. If we were engaged and one of us was assigned male, our parents would want to meet and expect to build a relationship because of the assumption that the kin of kin is important. But the fact is that because we won't be getting married and our commitment is to long-term friendship not romance and cohabitation, zir parents probably just don't see me as family (not to the level of their other kids' partners). And because ze's not male, my parents probably don't want anything to do with us as a couple much less kin-once-removed. I hate this so much. My relationships are more meaningful than most, because they're based on honesty, openness, constant respect, learning, compassion, and growth, yet I don't get treated as if they're even valid.  I shouldn't have to do them the same way as everyone else. And I HATE that friendship is so devalued. Sure, most friendships are not committed and intense, but when they are they should be given the same treatment as if they were romantic. A best friend should be treated like a spouse. If you consider me kin, you should invest in MY kin.

And that also got me thinking about the fact that my biofamily does not want to know me: they just want to see the parts of me that conform to their desires. They never wanted to know me: even when I was a child, the only thing they wanted to know about my life was if I was obeying and if I was performing in 'successful' ways (grades, scores). Now they've stopped trying to make me obey but those two things are still all they care about. I haven't said this to them and I feel I need to, but I can't do it in person because I will just cry, so I have to write a letter.

I have only felt like I belonged in some moments when I lived with the Wynnes (and I feel sure they wouldn't want me now because I was so much more normative then), and when I go to TBC. I have never felt belonging with biofamily because they never cared about who I really was. I yearned so much to belong with my ex-in-laws but I was never more than an accessory, first to Rebecca and then to Ben, nonexistent after divorce. I wanted to belong with Serendipity but there were expectations I couldn't meet and values I couldn't resonate with. I wanted to feel at home with burners but there are so many privilege-denying people in that world that it's super hostile and alienating to me. Ditto to every organized spiritual group I've known. I wanted to feel at home with queers but they're so fuckin urban-cliquey.  I feel at home with the people I draw to me but it is not belonging because it is not a unit: if I stopped holding it together it would cease to exist. I still ache to belong. I want to feel safe and kin in a circle that lives on its own because everyone in it maintains it. I feel I will never experience that and it hurts worse than any breakup.

If you're wondering what spirit-kin, heart-kin, soul-kin or mind-kin mean (or -twin, the stronger version), read this post.

If there is anyone I've mentioned often who is not included here, please remind me.

( all of the people! it's pretty longCollapse )

For the past three nights I've slept extra long and had lots of dreaming time -- part of me feels guilty at "wasting time" but I know that this is a thing I need. I process in dreams, and my usual 7-hours-per-night only allows for one or two dreams if I'm lucky. And I have such a lot to process. I'm coming out of the most painful time of my life and the metamorphosis that began last fall is coming to completion. (heh, I remember when I thought I had gone through my last exuviation! Silly young me) I didn't write much down from the dreams but I'll share some bits and pieces:

Topaz and I running from our friends who were zombies / crying over not being the photographer I want to be while everyone around me is making their dreams into reality / my bioparents moving my altar and taking the cover off of my windows / being in Alaska w Topaz and swimming in surprisingly warm water (with ice floes nearby!), above sharks, while menstruating / flying around a place that was partly the Wynnes' old neighborhood and was partly a tent city and partly a fenced-in military base / menstruating without a pad, feeling anxious about bleeding on my pants (I don't wear pants) / Topaz's grandmother & grandfather being best friends with Wynnes' grandmother & the three of them sitting together watching a film in a tiny house, me bursting in on them and feeling embarrassed but them smiling at me / talking to the Wynnes' old neighbor, thinking they were dead and crying before realizing that the neighbor was talking about someone else / babysitting and having forgotten basic things like putting the child's seat on the toilet before helping tiny child to go in the potty, also spilling things and making food wrong

A lot of family stuff, feeling inadequate (failing at BABYSITTING? what!?) and threatened, and menstruation. I am menstruating at the moment but I've never dreamed about it before... dreammoods.com says "To dream of menstruation indicates that you are releasing your pent-up tension and worry. It signals an end to the difficult times and the beginning of relaxation." Let's hope that's it. I wish I didn't have to deal with any family shit but at least my dream about Topaz' gparents was a positive one, as I've been feeling anxious that they don't respect/accept me as I am, that they won't welcome my intrusion into their space (Topaz' life). If I feel anxious about something in waking life and then have a positive dream about it, it's my subconscious telling me that my fear is unfounded.

I've recently realized that the way I spend time and the way I think of home is different than most people I've lived with. Home, to me, is where I go to rest and feel secure -- and this usually involves being relaxed/passive/solitary. It's not where I want to spend most of my time -- it's where I want to go back to after adventures. If I'm happy and healthy I want to be OUT most of the time (at least 5 days out of 7), interacting with people and exploring. Being out satisfies my yearning to wander. The only times I spend vast lengths of time at home is when I'm feeling depressed or need to process/recover or feel like I have no one to explore with (I can explore on my own if it's warm, but if it's cold I need people with me to motivate me to brave the cold).

But for most people, "home is where the heart is" and home is where you are happiest spending your time. I remember this being a point of conflict when I lived with the Wynnes -- I loved that family more than anyone else I'd ever known, and I LOVED my room SO much (it was FULL of light and they let me paint it purple and green and it had a built-in-desk and its own full-of-light bathroom), 'yet' I was out all the time. I was working full time and going to school full time and dating and going to group therapy (which for me was a wonderful social activity), and I loved the whirl. I think Paula started to feel like I didn't care about them because I wasn't often home, and she started asking me to call when I was going to be out late (ostensibly so ze wouldn't worry but really I think because ze didn't want to feel forgotten) -- which I could never remember to do until it was already past the time ze'd be asleep. I didn't realize (until now) that it is possible they felt unloved or like I didn't want to live there -- yet it was probably my favorite place I've ever lived.

( it was also conflict with Ash and Ben and ArizonaCollapse )

All this makes me worry that I'm not suited to live with people I'm close with because it seems really difficult to get around that expectation. My daydream looks like this: sharing living space (a house or multi-room flat) with people I love who are either wanderfooted or solitary or not emotionally invested in me; having my own, separate space; having communal space where everyone living there has equal freedom to invite people to (this is very important! I've NEVER had this and yearned for it all my life); having no one be sad if I'm gone for days at a stretch, and no one be upset if I'm home but don't want to interact. I dunno if that's possible. I hope so, and I want to try it with my lil sis and Kyle (who is probably more out-oriented than I am even) and maybe some others. Am I the only one who thinks of home like this?

I was in my old room -- the unfinished one in the basement -- fixing the blinds to the sliding glass door when I found a strange compartment in the ceiling which opened with two screws (into which I stuck my car keys). I very excitedly opened it and started to look through, ( .......Collapse )

I dream so often of this old house... I really should tag it.

These are the characters in the story of my life:
( from 2009Collapse )

These are the characters in the story of my life:

( from 2008Collapse )

I miss:

-- the girl who glowed with such a sweetness that she made my fierceness feel like it had a purpose, protecting her.

-- the girl who listened to my every hurt and loved me unconditionally. Who hugged me even though she hated touching or being touched, because she knew I needed it. Who shared sacred parts of herself, and taught me so much in the process. Who taught me that God/dess is not a bundle of rules, but a person, a being made of love.

-- the girl who inspired me with her intensity, who celebrated her strangeness. Who filled my life with light just by being herself. Who intimidated me with her brilliance, and coaxed me out of my fear of self-expression by finding the brilliance in me. Who shared my excitement over my creations, no matter how undeveloped or unskilled. (night before last I dreamed that she came to me and said she wanted to be friends again ♥)

-- the family who taught me what family is, who accepted and loved me for who I was, right at that moment. Who encouraged me in selling my jewelry, believing in me and even offering help. Who understood that I had been taught lies and lovingly guided me out of my subconscious prejudice, without judging me.

-- the girl who showed me that I was not alone in the way I sense trees, who unintentionally validated something so important to me.

-- the group who let me see a created family, dissimilar people who banded together to create their own culture, rooted in love. Who accepted me as I am, and didn't make me feel like an outsider despite the lack of history I had with them (quite a feat!).

-- the girl who made me feel connected, loved in a way I had never been.

...Missing You by Jem...
I'll always be thankful for the time we had
We were blessed, I should celebrate
but I feel too sad
All the wonderful memories just make me fall apart

But I, yes I, miss you
and it's killing inside
Ooh well I, yes I, miss you
want you by my side

Our church has a very unique structure, designed to keep the 'small-church family' feel, even as we grow. We have one service on Friday evening, two on Saturday evening, two Sunday morning and one Sunday night -- and our pastor preaches the same sermon all six services. He takes every fifth weekend off to keep from burn-out (and that week we have a guest speaker). Anyway, we really believe in making connections, and part of that means having home groups -- basically, a small group of people that meet every two weeks or so to talk and bond and support each other. Ben and I have been trying to find one, but they all seemed to be so much older. (I think the younger ones tend to be less committed)

We finally visited one, and I loved it. Everyone was so cheerful and energetic and loud! Ben wasn't quite as thrilled as I was about the loudness -- but with me, it reminded me so much of being in Paula and Spencer's house -- when you have a group, you gotta pretty much shout to get heard, and everyone talks over each other and nobody gets offended! Oh my gosh I love that, I lovelovelove it. You'll have three conversations going on at once, and then everyone will listen to one person for a minute, and then it splits into several conversations again. It's just so free!

And it was quite a mixed group -- a single mom, three couples with kids, one couple with a new baby, and then us and another newlywed older couple who were also trying out the group for the first time. Everyone except Ben, myself, and the couple with the new baby was black. I really clicked with Veronica and Najla, though I'm a little intimidated by Najla 'cause she's SO bold. And she has teenage kids, so I feel like we probably have little in common. But I'm pretty sure we're going to stay in this group, it felt like family immediately. Especially with the oldest woman -- she was the one who invited us in the first place, and she's very motherly. It made me so happy to FINALLY find a group I'd actually want to bond with.

And afterwards we walked to the front and saw the Wynnes! My heart did a backflip and I ran up and hugged Paula, who was happy to see me. She had a baby on her hip, but even though the baby looked a lot like Spencer I couldn't recognize her as Risa! She's a year old now, and I've only seen her a handful of times. Spencer handed me his phone and told me to put my number in, so I did, but while I was doing that Paula left to change Risa's diaper, and I didn't even greet her... Still, I was just so happy to see them! I asked about William and Spencer said that he won the National Championship in track, doing hurdles -- I don't remember specifically what, but apparently he's assured scholarships now. I'm so proud of my little brother. ;-)

As we were walking away, I thought to myself, 'hey, maybe I actually won't cry this time, I just feel happy.' Then of course I realized that I didn't even say hi to Risa when I desperately want to hold her... and I started crying. Why is there still so much pain in my heart over that? I really don't understand it... It just hurts so much to not be a part of their lives. So much, still, a year later... it doesn't hurt any less, I just think about them less... I miss them so much. When will I be able to let them go? I thought I had gotten better.

I was spending time with Spencer and Paula, and I was upset about something, I cried to them and they comforted me, very generous and loving... then later in the dream I was taking care of their toddler son (which they don't have in real life), and as I checked on him I noticed that rain was dripping in through the roof. It broke the fan and dripped off of the light globe, and poured enough water to really soak the bed. So I ran to tell them, but they got very angry with me for freaking out about it, and treated me as if I was stupid and should have just ignored it.

I went to the Wynnes and talked to Paula and June about mattresses and whether Risa should call people Miss Firstname or Dr. Lastname. I said Miss Firstname, but they both disagreed with me and thought I was stupid for suggesting it. Then Paula went to work while June was babysitting Risa, and I thought I might as well leave. But Risa realized her mom was gone and ran over to me and hugged me, asking me where her mom was. I said her mom was at work, but she'd be back. Risa liked me much more than June, and since she wanted me to stay, I did, and played with Risa for a while. Risa's nickname was Kristina, and for some reason I couldn't remember her real name.

The group counseling thing I go to is held at my church, and while I was there this week I saw Gabe! My wonderful little brother. Aside from Ben, he's the only real family I've ever had. My biological family never really bonded with me, and even though I kinda adopted Paula and Spencer, they never adopted me the same way. But with Gabe, we couldn't be any more brother and sister if we were actually blood related. I drove him to and from school for months and then taught him to drive, and all those mornings and afternoons we talked about everything.

I saw Gabe and my heart LEPT! I was so excited and happy just to see him! We talked just a little bit about his college and such (he was away for school but he's back for the summer), but we couldn't talk for long because I had to go to small group. I wonder how much he has changed this year... he's always been very mature in spiritual issues but very much a kid in practical issues, because he was the only child of a single mom for a long time -- I imagine that being sorta on his own for a year has grown him up a lot.

I never realized just how important he is to me until that moment -- I was so overwhelmed with joy just to see him, my darling little brother. Wow. I don't think I'd be that happy even if Kaylene showed up at my door.

He's an amazing person. When I lived with his family, a few times he did something to hurt me (through carelessness), and when I approached him about it, he was very humble, apologized, and really worked on changing. One time he did something that made me look irresponsible in front of Spencer (can't remember what) and I was so upset I just avoided him for the day because I didn't want to yell at him. Before I even got a chance to tell him that what he had done bothered me, he taped a note to my bedroom door -- and in that note he explained how he realized he had wronged me, and he apologized -- and he was SIXTEEN at the time. I was blown away by his maturity (and of course I forgave him). But here's the impressive part -- he remembered that and was more responsible afterwards. So you understand why I adore him!

( a photo of both of us -- not a flattering angle for me, but I love it anywayCollapse )

I don't feel black enough. And that makes me feel stiff and boring and inadequate. And I know it all has to do with my dream of being part of Paula and Spencer's family. That stupid fucking dream just won't DIE. DAMN YOU! I want to carve out my idiotic heart and slice it into tiny pieces. STOP HURTING ME stop hurting me stop hurting me stop hurting me stop hurting me stop, please. Why can't I get over this? And I wonder... if I was black or if I just had more 'black culture,' would Paula trust me more? Would she call me like she calls Danica? Would I be part of their lives? Paula wanted to be Danica's 'spiritual mother' -- but with me, she freaked out and got very cold when I confessed that I wanted that from her... and Danica's white too. But something's different about her, something that makes her 'fit.' Danica's an incredible person, but am I not too? What's wrong with me? I know I lack, show me where and I will work on it I promise!

Please don't tell me that I'm fine the way I am or that my culture is fine and I shouldn't try to be something I'm not... I know I'm fucked up and I know I have racism and I KNOW that and I'm trying to get over it, really I am. But white culture is incredibly boring, stiff, colorless, dull, lying, for the most part. There are wonderful subcultures, I know... but.

I love Paula and Spencer and my brother and William and my babygirl so very much but I try hard never to think about them because it always, always makes me cry. I'm writing this entry blind with tears. I wish I wish I could just LET IT GO.

so, I've been lousy at comments lately, sorry. I'll try to go back and respond some tomorrow...

Friday was my last day at work, but I don't feel like I've actually quit yet... Yvonne asked why I was quitting, and I explained, and she told me that she was also abused as a child... (this is everywhere, a widespread devestating disease that no one ever talks about. WHY?) She was very kind, she stayed and talked to me for a while until I got a steady flow of customers again. She also has been totally healed, she was able to sit through a thanksgiving dinner with her abuser (a relative) without fear or anxiety or anger... I have even more hope now that I know two people have been totally healed.

I had counseling Saturday, it was very very stressful. I don't feel like it was progress, but at the same time I do -- I was more open than before, I almost felt trusting enough to tell her about my modeling and my journal -- I feel sure she would approve, but that 5% doubt is enough to make me want to keep it from her. She's no 'religious' person, just someone who loves and follows God, but everybody has their hangups and her opinion matters a lot to me, to use drastic understatement, so I'm afraid to tell her. I feel like God thinks that both my modeling and my journal are fascinating and wonderful, but again, I have slight doubt, and I'm afraid to ask him, afraid to ask anyone who represents his voice in my life.

I think my heart is slowly pulling away from Paula and Spencer. ( ...Collapse )

And of course, we talked about forgiving my dad. She told me that a wound that deep is too much for us to forgive on our own, that I have to let God do it through me, with me... it's too much for me to understand, right now. She said it is simple, just that simple, a one-time decision, but hard to do. I want to forgive him, just so I can be free from all the pain my unforgiveness is causing me, but at the same time I don't want to forgive him, because in many ways he thinks he's just fine and I don't want to support that belief in any way... I'm very bitter when it comes to him, I've faced that and it's true. I don't like being bitter and untrusting when it comes to authority figures. But she forgave her perpetrator, and I'm 99.99% sure that my dad never touched me in any impure way (he was always very careful and cautious about NOT doing so), so don't I have it easy in comparison? I'm not even forgiving my abusers yet, whoever they are. Why is it SO HARD to forgive him? I think partly because I don't feel like my pain has been validated, I feel like I can't forgive something if I'm not even sure if it's wrong or not, and of course my parents would tell me that I'm overreacting and that I'm imagining things. But I want to get it over with. Yet I want someone to say, "that's terrible, I understand why you are so hurt, that was wrong." There are so many many things... mostly just how he treated me like less than a human. And told me repeatedly that my feelings and thoughts didn't matter, "I don't care how you feel" -- that exact phrase, many times. And now he wonders why I don't want to talk to him.

"Where do I take this pain of mine
I run, but it stays right by my side
So tear me open, pour me out
There's things inside that scream and shout

So tear me open, but beware
The there's things inside without a care
And the dirt still stains me
So wash me, 'till I'm clean...."

When I said that my day (saturday) was life-changing, I meant it, I wasn't being flippant. Okay, long day, lots of spirit changes -- first at counseling, then bellydancing, then church.

At counseling, Patricia and I started by picking apart the dream that I had after the last session, about three different houses, the open, breezy, beautiful one where I was naked and open and utterly content in my hispanic family; the house I lived in with my parents where ALL the memories pretend to be, even if they happened at a different time; and the skeleton of a house with an evil foundation. ( ...Collapse ) She explained that not all the parts of me want what I want. Some parts hate the fact that I didn't die (and still want to die), some parts hate God, some parts refuse to enjoy life, etc. And she said that God has given me authority over all parts of me, and I need to take authority and use it. So she gave me a thing to say, not a prayer or a mantra but similar, where I take authority over all parts of me and command the parts that don't know God to be silent and not interfere in my life. It's not a permanent solution, just something to keep me from warring against myself until I am one person. I said it, you know, but I didn't expect much of a result.

We also talked about my wish for parents ( ...Collapse )

Then I went to bellydancing, and oh-my-gosh. There was such a huge difference in my body's ability to connect with my spirit/mind. I mean, last time was horrible, I could see and comprehend but could not do. And part of it was this time I gave myself permission to fail, permission to not do it perfectly the first time -- but the huge difference was because of taking authority over myself. There was part of me that interfered with everything I did, and that part was forced to be quiet and stop blocking my dance. This time I danced in the in-between times, totally not caring if I was doing it wrong or if the other girls were looking. My body, my spirit, was so much more free, so much more alive.

And after that I went to church, and PJ gave an awesome sermon -- my favorite part was when he validated my feelings and current goal in life -- transparency. He said, point-blank, that transparency is something we should all strive for. That privacy is not something we should strive to protect. I was so excited, I clapped and cheered (no, I ain't kidding -- in my church nobody turns and looks at you funny if you do stuff like that). I think I was the only one thrilled with that declaration, though. Even the other "high I's" (extroverted hyper personality type) just kinda took it in -- but then I wasn't really paying attention to everyone else, so maybe some others were excited too. I'm so sick of the religious mindset that we're all supposed to hide most of ourselves and only share the 10% that we think others will consider 'worthy.' I'm delighted with PJ for saying otherwise.

I am strong, I am beautiful, I am true.

I had counseling this morning, and it didn't seem like we went that deep. Mainly because she's not sure that I am committed to getting healed (because of all the pain that comes with opening that stuff) and she's not going to push me. Yet when I got home and relaxed, I suddenly felt like my heart was breaking, and I cried and cried and cried because I felt... used. And Ben comforted me, but that was hard for me to accept because he's a man, and I really can't trust men right now. So I had two battles going on -- the struggle between accepting or shoving down the pain, and the struggle between accepting Ben's love or pushing him away. I actually won both battles though, now that I think about it. But good grief, every touch scared me, and the only place that he could touch me without me freaking out was my back. And at the same time I wanted the comfort of sex, only a little bit though. Good grief, the pain felt like I was being... abused. Like it was happening. But there were no thoughts with it, just the feeling. I couldn't get in a safe position either, didn't feel safe on my back or my tummy. But Ben was so careful. And I'm proud of myself for not shoving him away. I know I need to trust him, even though it's hard, and I know he's trustworthy.

I used to be ashamed to cry. I'm still kinda ashamed to admit it here, in front of other people. I feel like it's weak, like I'm going to be judged as a wimp who can't handle life. But that is a LIE taught to me by people who didn't want to deal with the guilt and discomfort of me being unhappy; they wanted me to stifle my feelings so that they could feel like everything was fine. Crying is just as natural as laughter, dammit, and it is necessary for processing pain. I refuse to believe that it's weak; I choose to believe that it is a honest expression and worthy of as much honor as any other display of emotion. (of course, crying for reasons other than strong emotion is different)

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Ashley and Kevin (a maybe-to-be-catholic and a born-catholic) went to my (very non-denominational) church today ( ...Collapse )

While at church, I had Spencer and Paula pray for me about this counseling stuff, and they both prayed passionately, and I felt their love. It was healing for me, I rested in it and felt stronger. And I feel sure that Spencer (at least, probably Paula too, but she's very busy and kinda forgetful) will continue to pray for me, and that is encouraging. Oh, and one of those little things that delights me -- I hugged Paula when I saw her today, and she said, "Hey! I missed you last week!" and I knew that she was referring to when I tried to catch her attention but she was preoccupied -- Spencer saw though, and he must have told her.

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PS. WHERE THE HELL DID anar_anar GO?
PPS. If you haven't, please fill out my would-you-listen-to-an-entire-mix-CD-of-my-favorite-bands poll and my necklace design poll. It'll only take you a few minutes and a couple of clicks and it would make me very happy.

I wish I had the guts to give Spencer the link to my journal (Paula's not an option because she's almost completely computer illiterate, and never gets online). But his opinion is the second most important opinion in my heart... and I'm so afraid. Afraid that he won't understand or won't approve, or will be freaked out by just how much I love him and Paula and Gabe and William and my babygirl. Mostly the latter, I think, since everyone seems to think that I love them because I have the ulterior motive of being able to 'prove' that I'm not racist (which I don't believe, by the way, I know I still have subconscious prejudices that I need to get over, and there is a lot about the black american culture that I just don't know). I've never actually talked about race with Spencer, though I have with Paula and Gabe, and he has joked about it around me.

Damn, I'm crying. I didn't think I felt so strongly about this.

They don't know I do artistic nude modeling either, and even though I think Spencer might understand, he might not... and he might tell Paula, who has very VERY particular ideas about what is Proper and what is Not. And she gets to decide how involved in their family I am, so if she decides I'd be a bad influence on Risa, it's bye-bye Kristen. (now I'm just feeling sorry for myself)

But I hate this. I hate not knowing if they'd accept me for who I really am, and they're the only mentor types besides my Uncle Bob who've ever come close. Especially Spencer. I know I was a crazy thing when I first moved in with them, probably really obvious in how scared of Spencer I was (due to people telling me all my life that black men were extra-sexual and I'd better be very careful)... but I never felt anything less than approved of by Spencer (except that one time when I told him I'd take out the garbage and I forgot; oh my gosh I felt so irresponsible and lazy, and you better believe that stuck in my mind). So what if he learns who I really am, all my facets, and... thinks ill of me. Or just disapproves. And that tenuous connection I have with the family I love so desperately is shattered.

I miss them so much... so so sossosososososoooooooo much. I try not to think about them, because when I do, this is what happens. I turn into a little fountain of tears and pain, so much aching for inclusion in their lives. I miss my little brother Gabe! I miss our long talks; he's so wise for his inexperience (the momma's boy that he's always been). I miss Paula. Once we fell asleep holding hands... now we never talk, 'cause she's busy and she's not one to reach out and I know (because she told me so) that all she wants is a casual friendship, where we smile at each other if we meet, hang out once or twice a year, that sort of thing. So where do I get the motivation to reach to HER? And William, well, he intimidates me because I don't understand him. He lives in a completely different world -- he's a 15-year-old black teenage boy, I'm a 22-year-old married white woman. We don't know what to say to each other and half of the time I think he disdains me -- because his older sister and mother (not Paula) kinda do. They're rather anti-white, from what I've gathered. Maybe just separatist. Whatever. Nonetheless, I love him and am so proud of him. He's going to win a gold in the junior olympics this year, I know it (he's a very talented and dedicated runner). And even though he tries so hard to hide it, he's incredibly loving. I saw it when Paula was pregnant with Risa, and I saw it when he held babygirl. She was the completion of the Paula/Spencer family, the blending of genes that finally welded the family. imissmylittlesister.......... She's so small, so very young, and yet she has such a grip on my heart... I feel like I helped carry her. In a way, I did -- for the three months before she was born I visited Paula nearly every day, helping her because she was on bedrest. One of my favorite memories is when Paula's grandmother said to me, "That's your baby" -- about Risa. Paula was startled and maybe a little offended; she said, "What?" and then her grandmother amended her statement -- "That's your baby too." I felt so grateful to Grandma Tiny for saying that, and it resonated as truth. She's spiritkin to me -- that whole family is and always will be, regardless of how they feel about me.

I had to fight myself to keep this open... 'cause there are people I know irl (who have popped into my lj from time to time) who I don't especially want to share all this with. Openness beat fear.

(mental_coercion made ( thisCollapse ) for me from an artwork by Meilin Wong)
I'm 22! One of my favorite numbers times my very favorite! (which makes this a favored number, of course) This year will be teh fuckin' awesomest.

So YAY! I opened eternitywaiting's present, which was all wrapped in lovely purple and lavendar tissue, and here it is (it's hanging on my wall above my beading table, against a cloth that is hanging from the ceiling) -------->
Nik (hurry up and rename yourself before I get used to that name!), you are wonderfully talented and so thoughtful! I'm amazingly blessed and touched by all the effort you went to for me. Effort and Bel-ness are the most important aspects of a present, and you nailed 'em both!

and I'm still going to be watching the mail impatiently and happily for misemifein2's present. I'm so freakin' lucky.

Ben and I are ridiculously broke right now, so we're waiting to celebrate on Friday -- it'll be after payday and it's my next day off.

So did anybody rent "Playing By Heart"??? (It's not too late! I'm not officially celebrating until Friday!)

I got some 'happy birthday' wishes from the oddest sources! Walmart had a little "happy birthday" note on the screen when I clocked in, and even weirder, our property managers left a card on the door saying happy birthday. It's not like we ever talk to them or anything -- but it was certainly a nice gesture. And then I had to tell elya (Ben's twin, my friend and in-law) that it was my birthday 'cause she forgot! (she had given me a lovely present early though, telling me that she just knew she'd forget the actual day) Then she told other people, and Lanie gave me a hug, which I considered a present. Physical touch really means a lot to me, and Lanie (one of the CSMs (the people who tell me what to do)) is such a darling. It makes me happy whenever I see her because she's so cheerful and alive.

-----

Oh yeah! And last night Ben and I went to the Saturday 5pm service at church, and saw Paula and Spencer. They gave me the presents that they had gotten me for Christmas (we really don't see them very often, sadly); a photo of Risa in a purple beaded frame, and these (the purple for me, the blue for Ben) (read the writing, it's hilarious!):
(hee hee!) Paula learned so much about me over those months I spent with her -- last year she got me a navy blue (with GOLD trim!) windbreaker and pants! I hate navy blue, gold, and the icky staticy feeling of those pants -- they went straight to donation. This year, purple + coffee = awesomegiftsquared. Kisses for Paula, and note to self: pray that she'll learn to trust. Even if it never benefits me, she deserves/needs that ability.

I went with Spencer to get Risa from the nursery after church, and babygirl recognised my voice! Spencer took her from the lady and she turned and reached for me! It could just be coincidence, but I don't think so. She heard my voice practically as much as Paula and Spencer's voices during her last three months in the womb. So I held my little sister for the second time (the first time that didn't include jealous stares), and we are so spiritkin, I know so much about her without knowing her mind at all. I think we must have known each other in heaven, and I bet we were close friends there. I don't want to miss out on her toddlerhood though, and I'm so afraid that I will.

Spencer was planning on bringing my W2s (JoAnns had my address from when I lived with them) but he forgot them, so I asked what they were doing tomorrow (thinking of picking them up) and he said they were having a superbowl party -- and I don't remember the exact phraseology, but Ben got the impression that we were invited and I got the opposite impression. Anyway I had to work until seven... and we didn't have the money for the gas to drive all the way over there and back, so even though I really wanted to go after work, we decided not to. I'm sad about it now, because I hate missing out on time with them, and I'm afraid they'll feel snubbed and not invite us next time, and I REALLY hate missing out on being at their house in a festive atmosphere. They throw the best parties, and not just because of the food and big screen tv, either -- there's just a feeling of lightheartedness that I've never felt elsewhere. And I never feel as at home as I do at their house. And I just really really miss them.

Spencer thought my birthday was in March, which makes me wonder if he was planning on sending me a card or something. Just the idea makes me teary. And I think the purple frame was his idea -- he seems to love the idea that I love Risa. He always wants me to hold her, it seems, and I know the photo at least was his idea. Maybe he senses babygirl's and my spirit-kinship, maybe it's his way of being grateful for helping Paula through the pregancy.... and maybe it's because he knew that I desperately wanted him to want Risa. Or it could possibly be that he in a sense feels like I 'gave' Risa to them, because I told Paula (a year before she got pregnant) that she was going to have a baby girl before too long. (they had her after they had given up and begun to plan a hysterectomy for Paula) Whatever it is, I like it, because it keeps me from feeling replaced -- oh yeah, that's probably the whole reason he does it, the analytical man that he is.

--------

Belenen: 2
Ben: 1
Very, very, very good game. (of course, I'm always happy when I come out on top. I must win.)

These are the characters in the story of my life:

( from 2005Collapse )

I was in my bioparents bedroom in their GA house (as if it was a flashback) and I was sitting on the bed talking with Paula, when Spencer walked in and mentioned that he missed me. I just kind of smiled and nodded, wondering if he meant it. He left the room for a moment and then came back in, looked me directly in the eyes and said firmly, "I miss you," in such a way that I couldn't doubt it. I started crying, because I was overwhelmed with the fact that he sincerely cared about me and desired my company. Then he hugged me and said stuff that made me feel loved (I can't remember what) and I felt like I really had a Daddy and I was protected and loved.

I wonder where that dream came from... I wan't thinking about the Wynnes the night before or even for the past two days. Maybe Spencer does miss me and that was God telling me so (I often have prophetic dreams) or maybe Spencer was a metaphor for God in the dream...

The other day I dreamed that Ben and I went to visit the Wynnes, and Spencer was so happy to see us that he showed it (he's a very reserved person, usually). That dream made me even more anxious to visit them (Sheridan's tire blew the other day, so right now we are using the doughnut and can't drive very far)... but then last night I dreamed that we went to visit them and Spencer was very unhappy that we were there -- he was taciturn and wouldn't answer me when I asked what was up. So now I am scared to visit them. I know, I know, they're just dreams -- but my dreams have always affected me powerfully, probably due in part to the fact that they are often prophetic.

And ever since I got Hya (my betta fish) I keep having dreams about fish out of water. For some reason, the fish (sometimes a betta fish but usually some exotic-looking unreal breed) is out of water, because it's container broke or it jumped out or whatever, and I'm trying to get it back in water before it dies. Often, after I get the fish into the water, I'm able to breathe water myself and am small enough to join the fish. But in the latest fish-out-of-water dream, the fish died, because I didn't realize it needed salt water until too late. I've had this dream, in completely different forms, over fifteen times. Obviously it has some kind of relevance, but I haven't been able to interpret it. When I wake, it always leaves me feeling like I've forgotten something important -- all day, I feel like I'm forgetting something that is terribly urgent.