I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted. (Psalm 77:1-2) ............................................ A journal chronicling my struggle as a woman, to find my way out of an abusive relationship, and to find myself again.

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Location: Georgia, United States

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

May 25, 2004

What a rotten day. The good thing about is that Dale has finally got the car working again! He drove it to Cleveland today; went to the parts store, the drugstore and the grocery. The bad thing was that he spent all but $5 of the money that was to have lasted us 'til the first of the month. Don't know what I'm going to do for cigarettes until then. Look, I know it shouldn't matter and that I should quit, but I'm not ready yet and that's all there is to it. It is a small pleasure, and I resent that he didn't think of me, or of the fact that we might have some other need this coming week.

Okay, I'm picking at nits. I do a lot of that lately, and try as I might, I can't stop. Every nit-picky thing that ticks me of just reminds me of all the larger issues. I can't seem to get out of anger mode.

Reading a good book that Bert gave me, called The Depression Book. It's different from all the others I've read, and I like it. It is a small book, but will take lots of poring over and re-reading to really get all the juice out of it. It talks of depression as a spiritual journey, and how to take that journey.

Quote from the book for today:
"We are responsible to how we feel rather than for how we feel."

See? I told you -- pithy.

When I went to the support group, I met a young lady (23) who works with teenagers from abusive homes. She mostly just hangs out with them; therapy happens if it happens. She takes them to movies, putt-putt, stuff like that. When I first approached Abby with it, she was unimpressed as only a 14-yr-old can be, but she's changed her mind, seeing the summer looming depressingly ahead for her. So I will call the girl tomorrow, and get something set up. She'll have to meet Abby in town, and Abby will have to keep her visits a secret, which I hate, but she'll be meeting other kids with similar problems who are keeping the secret, too, so hopefully it will be a good thing, even with the lie.

You know, I've been here before, but it sure doesn't feel like it. It's like getting the same tooth pulled again and again. It still hurts, it's still hard, and I still feel stupid for not taking care of the damn tooth when I first noticed the pain.



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