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

Thursday, June 10, 2004


Bert brought lemons! Abby is happy. Bert called this evening and said he and Elaine were in Cleveland, and he was stopping at Ingles and wondered if we'd still like to have some lemons for Abby's lemonade. I said yes, and a little while later he showed up at the door with a huge sack of lemons. Ah, Bert. What a good man he is. I still feel warm inside thinking about it.

Something bad happened last night, and I'm upset, angry and sad about it. I was eating an eggroll, and suddenly one of my front teeth broke. And not even the one with the cavity that I've been worried about, but one of my two very front teeth. It's a small piece off the bottom of it, very jagged and ugly. I've always said if I lost my teeth, I'd never go out and socialize again. It also clinches my decision to resign from PCG. Dammit, why did this have to happen now? I take such good care of my teeth, and this one didn't even have a cavity. Rats! It's embarrassing. I told Bert I am now officially poor white trash. At least it feels that way, and I look the part. Even when Dale's money comes, how in the world can I justify using a couple grand of it to get my teeth fixed? Maybe I'll get them pulled and get dentures. Depends on how expensive it is. I guess for most people it's inevitable anyway, and I wouldn't have to worry anymore about surprises like this.

The other bad thing is that the spin cycle on the washer no longer works. That's not so bad, because if I just let the load of clothes sit overnight, most of the excess water will drain off, and I can put them in the dryer. Still, it was another thing I was hoping would wait. I knew my washer didn't have much time left. It's ten years old, and has certainly held up well considering all the use it's gotten. But still, I didn't need one more headache.

Okay, now to the book. I'm almost done with Forbidden Memories. It is very strange. I know that I know the author from somewhere. Her picture is on the back, and I know her face. She talks in the book about going from the hospital to the psych hospital across the street, and she was living in N Georgia at the time, so I'm assuming she went to Laurelwood. I was in and out of there in the same time period, so maybe that's where I know her from. I wonder if she'd remember me, too? Her email address is in the back of the book, and I want to write to her, but don't quite know yet why, or what I'd have to say. It's just that our stories are so similar, and she lives so near me. She's a practicing therapist, and I wonder where she practices?

There's a lot in the book I identify with. She says, "....if someone were in a bad mood -- I must have done something to put them in that bad mood; if someone were angry -- I must have done something to have angered them; if someone yelled at me -- I must have done something to deserve being yelled at." Then, "I basically let people treat me however they wanted to and I took it without question or defense. I didn't realize that people acted like they did, not to hurt me, but to meet their own needs." Now there's a thought I've never entertained. I'm hoping I can remember that and not take things so personally; even try to understand the need, if I can.

In talking about a request she made of her partner, she said her partner "turned the conversation around to make it look as if I was doing something to her rather than asking for something for myself." Oh, boy, do I know that dynamic well!

I'm still not sure that things happen for a reason, but it is strange that this book happened to pop into my life now. I wasn't searching it out. I haven't read books about abuse or "healing" in a very long time. I also don't understand why such long-ago stuff is on my mind so much right now. God, doesn't it ever go away?

Another thing the author, Sandy Riggin, talks about is the fact that she could have thoughts about childhood abuse, but never feelings about it, and she desperately wanted to have those feelings, and she felt that without that, she would never heal. I feel the same way. I look back on the things that happened to me, and I just can't identify with the person those things were done to. Like it was someone else, even though I know it was me. But it really is too late for me to be doing any feeling on the subject. I'll never be able to afford a therapist like her, and there is just no safe place anymore. It really stinks that I was almost at a place once where I might have been able to do it, when Laurelwood changed its policy because of the changes in the health "care" system. It's dangerous to let people have such strong emotions if you know you've got to send them home in 3-4 days, so the subject of childhood abuse became taboo there.

I felt better today than yesterday, and that's a good thing. Just wish I knew where I was going.

Talked to Dale and his therapist today. I am so very nervous about his coming home. I still don't know yet when that's going to be. Maybe tomorrow, maybe Monday.

Also talked to someone with juvenile court about getting Emily into OTP (outdoor training program). He said it might be exactly what happens this time. That would be a very good thing for all concerned, I think, even though she'd hate me for it. But she doesn't exactly like me right now, so it won't make much difference to me, but it might make a world of difference for her. Keeping my fingers crossed.



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