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

Saturday, July 17, 2004

Connecting, maybe

I just feel like writing tonight. The girls are spending the night with a friend and it's very quiet. Emily got her tongue pierced today. I had to sign for her, so I walked down to the tattoo place with Abby and met Emily and Leah there. I was surprised to see how quickly and easily it's done. Emily barely flinched. This tattoo shop looks like a hospital surgery, it's so clean, and that made me feel better about the whole thing. I remember when guys first started getting their ears pierced, how shocking most adults thought it was. I try not to be shocked, but I don't especially like the idea of tongue piercings. I suppose there are some horror stories out there, but I haven't heard any. In any case, Emily is pleased. We went to Cafe International and Em bought lunch. She's flush with cash from her job, and she seems to be enjoying it, so I think she'll be more than willing to get out there and find another. Hope so anyway.

I wish I could stop worrying. I hope Dale can find a halfway decent car and have enough money left so I can buy Abby some school clothes. I know he's not going to want to give me a penny, and he wants to buy himself some jeans, but I really want Abby to go back to school looking nice. She's lost 25 pounds, and I'm proud of her. Like me, she has a long way to go, but we're in this weight-loss thing together, and so far we're even at 25 lbs. I want her to feel really good about it, and that means new clothes. I need clothes, too, but Abby comes first, in my mind.

I also wish I didn't feel so sad all the time. The new anti-depressant is working, because I feel that disconnection from any deep feeling, and that's good, because it probably means I won't feel suicidal anytime soon. I don't like not being able to feel deeply, though. It feels like I'm cut off from a big part of myself. Not just the bad, but the good also.

Nothing to report. Just feeling cut off from the world, and wanted to connect. Not much of a connection, is it?



Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi! I got into tattoos recently.
Love your blog articles.
I've created my own blog as an ode to the art form. :-)

August 17, 2006 at 11:16 AM  

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