the right thing

I don't know what I want to do with this blog anymore. I don't want to blog about my husband, soon to be ex husband because I think it bores the fuck out of people. However, since I'm still here...

Last week or so, I decided it was simply time. It was over and done and the last straw had been... um... 'strawed'. I gave him a few days to get his stuff together and get out. I was so angry - mostly because I didn't want it to end THIS way.

I don't know if it's been a week or two weeks since then. Maybe two weeks. Anyway- so fast forward to last Friday and I offered to drive him to rehab. The day before, he went to a facility and DURING the intake process his blood sugar dropped to dangerous levels, they had to call 911 and he was sent to the ER, and then was told he could not go to that rehab. It was a state run facility and while they may take patients with health problems, they needed someone a bit more stable. This facility was a pain in the ass though, from the beginning. I decided to just use my insurance and find him a facility that had a few more resources. I allowed him to stay one night and on Friday he found a new place that took our insurance. Ok fine. So I took the morning off and drove him around lunch time, about 60 miles to Riverside to a nice looking place that was acceptable far enough away.

So I'm waiting in the kitchen area when he comes out- and he's white and sweating and headed for the vending machine. His blood sugar is dropping... again. Ok, now my husband doesn't have LOW blood sugar problems, he has HIGH blood sugar problems. The only time his blood sugar ever gets low is when he takes too much insulin... so yeah. great. He ate a BUNCH of candy, which I knew would be a problem later. Then went back into the office. More waiting.

Then I get called into the office.

Your husbands blood sugar is very low. We had to call 911.
again.

Great.

So the rehab facility tells me that they referred him to a different detox facility that CAN help him with his blood sugar but he needs to be stable before they take him in. So the ER needed to stablize him and then he could go into that other place. So off to the ER where I explained to the doctor what the situation was. He hadn't explained to the doctor what the situation was. This didn't shock me, which was why I insisted on going back there. When the doctor asked him, "so you need a letter clearing you for detox?" He agreed and played along, but I know now that he was doing his best to either get a last dose of meds, or had it in him to use whatever means possible to screw this up.

7 hours later and his blood sugar had spiked up (thanks to all the candybars)- and then it finally came back down and the doctor said he would clear him and we could be on our way. His response to that was instant anger. He got up and pulled out his IV's etc. He walked off the unit and then came back when the nurse followed him. He was in a rage and wouldn't even wait until we GOT the discharge paperwork to leave. The doctor was confused and when Mike walked off the unit, I explained to him and the nurse what I suspected was going on. Now he HAS to go to rehab. His efforts to sabotage failed, and now he's pissed.

The nurse had me go out front and she agreed to come out with the discharge paperwork. Security also followed, making sure that I would be ok. He offered to drive us to the rehab center. Can you imagine? The hospital security, btw, was the Moreno Valley Police Department. So yeah, that would have been all kinds of awesome- but no, I'm ok.

So it was 11PM now, and we drove to the facility. and waited and waited and waited until he was taken in. We barely spoke until it was time to leave.

At 12:45AM, I finally went home leaving him behind.

Those were the details of the day. The emotional nightmare can barely be touched. It was a bad day. I had nothing but guilt because I was forcing him to do this. I had no idea if he wanted to get sober, he said he did- but he had no other choice at this point. I was putting him out- I was leaving him homeless. This was his only hope, and I was helping him get there- and his negativity about it made me want to put his bags on the side of the freeway and him with them. Even in these last moments together I felt so angry that here I was trying to help him and he was still resisting. Even in the end, he would never accept what I was trying to do. He would never truly appreciate it.

I know I made the right choice... I know because it felt like hell and doing the right thing never feels as good as it ought to.

what's wrong when nothings wrong

My recommitment to my diet still hasn't stuck. I do ok during the day, but at night I just blow it out of the water. I need planning. I need to track my eating. I need focus. Not just with my diet, but with school too.

I find that hard to come by right now. Maybe it's the change in the weather, or the fact that school is almost out and I, like the kids, want to relax by jumping in the pool and laying in the sun. I spent a week off of my meds, and putting them back into my system is also sort of a mental transition too.

I often try to wean myself off my meds. Sometimes for a week, sometimes for a month. With my blood pressure problems, I am a little more sensitive about it. The last thing I need is for my stress and anxiety to skyrocket my blood pressure. I don't want to have a stroke because I didn't want to cheer up.

Sometimes depression confuses me. When I don't have anything to BE depressed about, it's strange to have those days when I feel like I can't get out of bed. Everything feels wrong when I know that nothing is wrong. The things that don't bother me, bother me. The things that are nothing, become something even if I know they are nothing. All of this triggers anxiety. This feeling of hopelessness, like everything feels out of control. I feel like the world is spinning and I feel trapped, even when I am standing perfectly still and there's nobody around. It doesn't make any sense, and it stresses me out when I try to force it to.

So when there's no answers- no reason- no fault. Nothing but this feeling I can't shake- all I want to do is hide from it.

Yes, the pills help. It's not about numbing me from what IS wrong. They help me from feeling that there is something wrong when nothings wrong. Maybe that doesn't make sense- but if it did, maybe you'd need antidepressants too.

New beginnings- I hope.

I have become a really crappy blogger. I can't even try to make excuses. I just committed a whole $10 to renewing this domain, so I guess I had better do something with it huh? I could have spent that $10 you know... lunch.

My weight loss efforts are going slow. Mostly because my EFFORTS are slow. I try- but you know, not as hard as I could. In 9 weeks, I've lost about 5.5 pounds which is great until I compare it to the girls who have lost like 17 pounds. I know what the difference is though- they are more committed. I'm doing it so-so. So I keep telling myself I'm going to recommit myself, starting today.

Ok- well today was but- but you know TODAY.

what? oh well that was unexpected. but TODAY- really today.

When the fuck IS today anyway?

This morning Mike and I had an interesting conversation about the new guy in my life. The conversation was not exactly interesting, but it is always interesting to me when I hear my husband say the name of my boyfriend. (It's also weird for me use those words in the same sentence.) I admit that it's comforting that he is not freaking out- because well, I know I would. In some ways, it comforts me to know that he does love me enough to want me to be happy. We really are just living in the same house now. Not in a seething uncomfortable way- but in a 'Hey Julie, do you think I'm still attractive enough to get a younger girl?' kind of way. Oddly, I asked him the same question.

It's nice to know that we haven't ripped each other to such shreds so that there is no evidence of civility.

As failed marriages go- maybe the fact that we can still be civil makes this a lesser degree of losing. Nobody wins.

So hopefully since I plan to sort of live 'outloud', you will all join me.

I'm Julie- I'm getting divorced. I have a new guy. A new girl (more on that later). Three sons, a daughter, a cat and a mini-van.

I am the perfect picture of the kinky neighbor next door. Can I borrow a cup of sugar?

Weight Watchers, Take 3

I've been on WW before, and I the first time I did well. The second time, not so well.

So a few weeks ago when I got the email that Weight Watchers at work was coming back, I decided to give it another try.

Here's a few things about me and weight loss. I HATE to Exercise. I also LOVE to eat. Neither of these things are conducive with NOT having a big ass. However, I also don't like that I have to take blood pressure medications and my cholesterol is a tad high. Also, well, I'm getting tired of being fat. It's not ok. It's not cute. It's not fashionable. No, it's not BAD- it's not SHAMEFUL and it doesn't mean that I don't care about myself. I admit that I'm lazy and that's the only reason I don't do it.

I don't have the time to focus on healthy cooking. I don't cook. I tend to grab whats 'grab-able' and eat that. Often times, it's almost 10PM and what's close is a bowl of cereal. Many nights a week, my dinner consists of Reese's Puffs Cereal or Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Chances are I'm not eating enough, and I'm eating junk.

I chose Weight Watchers because it's pretty easy. Also, I can still eat frozen dinners, either the Weird Watchers or the Lean Cuisine meal. This is what works for me. Grabbing something portion and calorie controlled and throwing it in the microwave. Twice a day? Sure! It's easy and takes very little thought. Remember, I don't have time to cook. So this is easy for me. I HAVE to go with what works- and what is logical for my life.

So here it is, day 6 and I haven't a clue if the scale will show anything next week. I have seen my eating habits, I don't eat enough during the day and I my food choices at night are not great. Also, I need to drink water, More More MORE water.

Weigh in is Tuesday. I currently weigh the most I've ever weighed not pregnant. And I'm just about 6 pounds shy of what I weighted when I WAS. That is frightening.

So wish me luck and hey, I have something to blog about. My big fat butt!

Ritalin- Day 4

I started Daniel on it twice a day today so I could see what it does- rather than have Michael tell me, considering that he forgot to give it to him on Friday.

(notes I jotted down)

Given at 7:45 after breakfast. He seemed to be having fun with Gabriel. Playing on the computer, he was a bit moody- talkative. Fussing with Gabriel about toys. Playing with his toys, watching TV. Talkative.

Given at 11:40 after lunch. Sat down with me to watch Tom and Jerry. Playing with Power Rangers at same time. Talking a LOT. Pacing the room with his toys, not paying too much attention to the TV. Wants to play Club Penguin. Set him up, a little fuss in the waiting.

-

So ok- nothing spectacular really. The magic though, is what happened after 5:30. Holy crap. It was like a light switch. You don't notice anything special when he's ON the meds, but when it wears off- that's when you notice. At 6PM, he was all "Danny" again. He was sort of all over. Getting really riled up, yelling a lot. Doing several things at once. The 'motor' was running. He even TALKED faster and you couldn't hear what he was saying.

The morning was like the rare times when Danny was having a good day at home. The evening is the way he usually is most days. Seeing the difference makes me wonder if he wouldn't benefit from something long lasting that works into the evenings, or maybe just a third pill. It's a small dosage, only 5 mg. It just seems to slow him down, not to a level that he is is sedated. Far from it. However, it's to a level where he can focus on one thing at a time, and be less frustrated with himself and everyone else.

Hmmm. Something to discuss with his doctor.

Ritalin- Day 3

I gave Daniel his pill today after lunch. I put the pill in his mouth and gave him some water, he seems to have the concept down of swallowing it without chewing.

He played at the computer for a few hours with no fuss. Didn't complain about a headache or stomach ache or anything. He was pretty quiet and was able to stop playing the game to go to the bathroom, or have some water. It was all pretty simple.

Around 4, he fell asleep on his bed for about 45 minutes and at 5 he had that melt down I mentioned. He ate dinner, something new, with much LESS fuss than usual.

In the evening he seemed back to his old self and got in trouble before bed.

Things I've noticed:

He is less talkative.

He is a little moody.

So far no problems eating. (He takes his pill after meals)

No problems sleeping

Tomorrow we will put him on two pills a day and see how that goes.

Ritalin- Day 2

It's day two and Daniel took his pill just fine as I was told.

He got it today late, as Mike who called me at 7AM to ask about them, promptly forgot to give them to him. So Daniel took his pill at 3PM. No matter these first few days.

He complained of a little stomach ache, but he ate dinner with no problem. He was kind of tired. He seemed quieter, but it could have been the time of day. He simply seemed tired and a little bit moody, that equals quiet.

At 7:30, almost like a switch, he 'woke up'. He was running and playing and being silly. Being Danny. Interesting that it was 4 1/2 hours after he took his pill. He will have some side effects for a week or so... but at least we know they only last 4.5 hours at a time.

I was having coffee with a dear friend of mine last night and I was telling her that while I know this will help Danny, and it will help the whole family, I'm a little sad. While sometimes it's frustrating- I just hope that these meds don't take away the essence that is that sweet little baby. Danny is particularly special to me, and his charming funny personality brightens my day more than anything else. I don't want to take that away. I hope that this doesn't.

Excuses why I won't work out

Reasons why I will try to talk myself out of going to the gym.

1) I plan on drinking all day.
2) It's too early.
3) It's too late.
4) Mike needs my help with the kids.
5) We promised to take the kids swimming.
6) My knee is hurting and oh.. would you look at that, I'm out of ibuprofen.
7) I'm monitoring Daniels ritalin intake and I can't leave him.
8) I watching the NCIS Marathon and theres one I haven't seen yet.
9) I have nothing to wear and I can't go to the gym looking fat.
10) I'm haven't jerked off in over a week and there's nobody in the house.
11) I finally jerked off and I have to write the review on the toy.
12) I have porn I need to watch.
13) The kids room needs cleaning
14) A tornado is on it's way and we need to take cover.
15) My car is overheating.
16) My sports bra gives me that one big uniboob and I hate that.
17) My shoes do not have backs to them and I'm afraid they will go flying off my feet and it will cause a tragic recumbent bike accident.
18) I have developed a third pimple on my face, creating the bermuda triangle on my face and I'm too embarrassed to go out in public.
19) I have passed out in the grocery store and I'm in the Emergency Room.
20) I am making cookies instead.

Ok so I think now that THAT is out of my system. I have a some good reasons that I must go to the gym.

1) My blood pressure is 'troublesome'. My doctor said that if I'm NOT going to exercise I have to take meds.
2) The meds make my skin break out (see #18 above)
3) The meds kill my sex drive (see #10)
4) Someone my age had a stroke this week.

Yes, I'm going. I will soon have clear skin, a healthy sex drive, and lower blood pressure. Who knows, maybe I'll lose a pound or two while I'm at it.

Ritalin- Day 1

So this morning I took Daniel for his trip to a psychiatrist, after a few visits to a psychologist and then his primary doctor. All are agreed that just a little touch of medicine might make it a little easier for him and the rest of us. I feel like he's young for it, but Alex had it and I see it in Daniel already.

I've done a lot of research on ADHD and on the medications vs. therapies etc. Right now I'm going a small dose of ritalin twice a day and see how that does. So far we got through the first hurdle which was him swallowing a pill.

I'm a fast thinker. I dropped the pill into his mouth and then shot water (via plastic water bottle) down his throat. He didn't know what hit him.

So far, no stomach aches, headaches nausea, nervousness or decreased appetite.
Thats a good sign. We're going with just one pill thru the weekend and starting with two pills on Monday so he'll have it in his system when school starts and we'll see how it goes.

The pills only last about 4-5 hours, so we may increase it so he'll have some in his system in the evenings, but at this point it's more about getting him through his school day and homework time.

I'm hopeful that this will help him- and the rest of us a bit too. It was easier with Alex because he was the only kid at home most of the time. It's harder now, even though Daniel's ADHD is less severe than Alex's- but 2/3 kids with ADHD in a small apartment is a good reason why mommy takes Xanax.

My ass is bigger than my motivation

Ok really, I gotta get my ass back to the gym. My reasons are simple and go beyond the size of my ass.

a) I'm tired all the time- even when I AM getting enough sleep.

b) I'm starting to get the daily headaches again which means my blood pressure is going back up. I agreed with my doctor that I would not have to take meds if I exercise, right now I'm not doing either.

c) The size of my ass... look I can't deny it!

d) I'm paying for a gym membership

e) I know that I CAN work-in 30-40 minutes, 5 days a week.

So fuck... I gotta do it. I gotta exercise, you know, blood pressure down, cholesterol stuff... you know all that healthy choice shit. I know.

So ummmm- Saturday. I will start back on Saturday.

fuck...

breakdown...

I seem to be having from some sort of breakdown or crisis and I didn't notice it until my boss called me to task yesterday. In a big way. I didn't get fired or anything, but it was just pointed out that my work has been subpar. I have unfinished projects. I'm behind on a lot of things. I didn't really have any good explanation for it.

When I got home last night I realized that the laundry was still piled up. Both clean and dirty laundry. It's been a three days since we've needed it and I seem to be just making quick trips to the grocery store to pick up what is needed for that day- but I haven't gone 'shopping'.

I have a 5 page paper due on Sunday that I have not looked at yet. I have a homework assignment due on Thursday.

I'm behind on my life.

Really, I don't care.

I am detached and indifferent and while I know I can't LET it happen, but part of me just doesn't CARE if all the pieces of my life crumble in front of me. Even acknowledging it, doesn't encourage me to change it. I find myself begrudgingly making lists t0 organize my life. Planning out the next 5 days in order to get my work done, my homework done, the laundry, the shopping, clean the house... blah blah blah.

The truth is, though, that I really don't care right now. I feel like I'm standing outside looking in- watching what is going on in this life as if it's not even mine. Not really caring too much what anyone has to say about it either. I don't want to spend a breath of energy on this tasks that don't seem to ADD anything to my life, but just make it possible for me to keep living it in the silently desperate state that I live it in.

I'll get back on the ball, because I know I have to. I'll spend a week playing catch up and then return to "life" as normal. I have no joy- I think that's my problem. I just want to focus on the things that make me laugh, and make me feel good- emotionally and physically. Not the things that I have to do in order to keep someone else in the miserable yet protected state he's in. I'm over it. I'm very much over my life, and even though it's supposed to change soon- I have my doubts.

It's time to go to work know... I'll set this to post later this afternoon, unless I change my mind or decide to snap out of it.

Does this treadmill make my ass look big??

I've been going to the gym for a month or so now. I know that I'm supposed to go 5 times a week. I think I average about 4 times a week. I go for two days and take a day off. That seems to be my pattern and it works out just fine for me.

After 5 weeks, I am very close to 30 minutes of non-resistance cardio. The eliptical or stairmaster is still hard for me but the treadmill or the bike on a lower level is enough to get my heart rate going. Cardiacwise, I'm really unfit. Always have been. I'm not trying to crash diet or work out like a mad woman. I know me well enough to know that I won't keep THAT nonsense up. However, I'm slowly losing pounds and inches. SLOWLY... that's ok though.

I don't love working out. Not at all. I can't imagine ever getting to the point where I just can't wait to get to the gym. My head doesn't work that way. I do it cause I realize that my ass has reached epic proportions. I don't ever expect to get back down to my wedding size. That was too big for my liking, however at this point I would love to be THAT kind of fat.

lexapro? not again

My relationship with mental health drugs has always been very kind of like/hate. There's never been a LOVE issue with them. I've never LOVED the way I feel on meds.

About 10 years ago I started getting chest pains. It would cause aches down my arms. My whole body would sort of ache and I would get restless and panic about it. My doctor would give me an ECG at least twice a year, since I have a family history of cardiac disease. After treating my husband, he figured out that I don't (yet) have cardiac problems.

He sent me to a psychologist and scripted me some Xanax. "You're not having a heart attack. No Julie, you're having anxiety attacks."

You think??

So I went to therapy for a while. On and off for years. Dr. O was my favorite. After Danny was born I saw a different one, Dr. N. Who encouraged me to do things for myself and keep my eye on my own goals, like finishing school. The last guy... I can't remember his name, he was more of a sounding board- but I saw him weekly and as I would talk, the 'answers' would sort of come to me, and he'd say, "ok... I'm following you."

I stopped seeing him when I got a new job in a new city. I haven't been to therapy since. When I went to work at the hospital, I also went back to Al-Anon, in place of therapy. That was ok for a while too.

I was on Xanax, as needed for many many years. At this point, as needed was starting to be 24/7. So I went to my new doctor and got my first script for something that was less dangerous than Xanax, which turned out to be Lexapro.

It wasn't bad. It helped a bit. After the first week of side effects, I was less apt to want to peel my skin off. The anxiety attacks became less frequent, but I still had the Xanax when I needed it. Maybe once or twice a week. At this same time, things in my life were changing so I think there were less things to be stressed out about. I stopped taking the lexapro when I couldn't afford it among other reasons. For as much as it helped, I never LIKED being on it. I always just felt a little LESS like me. Medication and therapy simply silenced me. It kept me from getting angry, and anger propels me. It encourages me to move forward. It inspires me to make decisions on my own behalf. Medications numb me a bit. It makes everything tolerable. Therapy helps me deal. AlAnon helped me stay.

What I need, is to go. So no therapy, no Lexapro.

However, today I'm going to refill my Xanax script. Just so I don't kill anyone, as needed.

Where's your happy place??

Last night one of the things I thought (::Grey's Anatomy::) about when Izzy was having her fantazy talks with her tumor (her dead ex) was that her quiet place, her happy place- whatever that PLACE is... was a beach.

I don't think my happy place is on a beach.  

I'm not a beach person.

Of course I'm not a mountain person either.

Or a forest person.

Certainly not a DESERT person.

Well crap... what kind of person am I?  I know that my happy place can't just be sitting on my couch with big pillows watching reruns of Dawson's Creek.  

could it?

So where's my happy place?  Where do I feel complete?  Where do I feel calm and quiet, and peaceful and happy.  

Hmmm... you're right if you thought "New York"  You know me well.  But it's specific.

There was an Italian restaurant we ate at, the second night.  It was in the Village and we sat on the street.  The lights reflecting off the street.  The buzz of the city.  The clicking of silverware and the clinking of glasses.  Watching the people walking by.  Never feeling alone.

It's as close as I can get to a happy place... and it suits me fine.

My other thought is that I think I need to refer to my ex husband(s) as "my tumors."

oral recovery

I'm home this weekend, spending much of my time on the couch- taking my pain meds and sleeping. Nursing my sore jaw and gums and constantly tonguing my sutures, wishing they would hurry up and heal.

It's been two days and I'm tired of soft foods although I have discovered a wonderful new soup. Campbells Chunky Potato Bacon Cheddar soup. That is the fucking bomb. My husband has been taking care of me all weekend, making my food and bringing me coffee and letting me sleep because the Codeine makes me reeeeealy sleepy. Maybe I'm sucking it up a little bit- but too much moving around and when the meds wear down, it's worse than when I'm actually resting like I should. My jaw is not swollen, but still very sore and when the pain killers wear down, all of my teeth hurt as well as this throbbing from the roof of my mouth up to my eye.

I will be happy when the big hole closes and the sutures go away- cause I keep touching them.

If you did read the post below, after you were done wiping the sweat of of your ass- you know that I had teeth extracted. 5 teeth to be exact, on the same side. Top and bottom wisdom teeth, two other molars on top and an eye tooth that was broken and beyond repair. So teeth #1, #2 #3 and #6. Along with #32.

I went for many years, either without insurance, or with HMO insurance that didn't cover much and I could never afford to pay cash for the wok that needed done. So lack of funds, neglect and just bad genes caused a lot of damage. Being pregnant/ or nursing in 2002- 2004 (2.5 years) did me in pretty good. I've lived with some form of tooth pain since then.

Finally I have better dental insurance and some extra money to pay for it. So I'm getting an upper back partial, some fillings and I will be out of pain- all for around $500. I have one more extraction of the last wisdom tooth, but she has assured me that it will be pretty easy, it's mostly tissue. While I not at all happy about being in this much discomfort, in my jaw and gums- I do not have the same kind of sharp tooth pain that made my eyes water and kept me on a constant regimine of Ibuprofen and Tylenol for years.

I will be happy when this round of aching is over. I think the next visit with the filling will be cake. And then... I promise I will go to the dentist every 6 months. I promise, I will.

My dentist office is one that is on TV. It's a Childrens office, but they see adults too. The office is owned by one main guy who is this crazy character. I saw him in the office once. He was wearing bright pink pants, and a lighter pink shirt. Both patterned. And a white bow tie, He has a white beard and mustache and kind of crazy white hair like The Colonel. Inside the brightly colored walls of the dentist office, the whole room had a bright pink hue.

It was kinda scary.

Oral Surgery- a D/s scene

I was in the chair. Mentally prepared. In the interest of time, I opted not to take the drugs Something in my mind wanted to get the over with, even if it meant that I would experience it all. I had my iPod and opted on The Hold Steady, all three albums to get me through this.

Without warning, the chair went backwards. I turned down the music so I could hear her. Open your mouth, said the voice. She was neither warm nor cold. Just so. My eyes saw the stick and the white ball going towards me, entering my mouth and the the rubbing. The taste. The tingling. She kept on for short seconds and then reached behind her.

Fuck, already?

I closed my eyes and in went the instruments. I turned up my music. Poking. Once, twice. She gave me a quick warning before each pinch, but worked quickly. "It's ok, honey" she said. But never stopping.

Hands out, and then back in again, "This one will hurt the most. Well second to the worst." Sharp and deep, but she rubbed my nose. "Focus on your nose. On your nose." She demanded. It was twisted sensation play. Focus on another body part while I tear up this one. Hands out, and then back in. "OK- this is a big one." The needle felt enormous going into the tender skin. I winced, maybe it was a groan. She ignored me, she was not concerned. Hands out, chair up and she was gone.

Alone. I stared into my surroundings. I grabbed my blackberry, twittered, texted. While the sensation left me. I was alone for what felt like a long time- but I'm sure it wasn't.

Then the girl entered the room, the assistant. I could only see her emotionless eyes and the pink streaks in her hair. The girl didn't speak, offered no comfort or calm. The chair went back and She returned. Her fingers went into my mouth again. Why this comforted me, I don't know- but it did. The latex gloves maybe. Perhaps it was because I felt safe with her in control. Confidence that she knew what she was doing- and she was going to do it without any word from me.

Music on- and we begin. It seemed simple enough to begin with. She moved between the difference spaces, going to each area, digging, pulling. The girl with the vacuum in my mouth. She seemed to rub it across my tongue a lot. I felt a design. I focused on it. I focused on the music, on the tapping of my feet. I was not there. Do as your told, Julie- and focus somewhere else. Behave. Don't struggle. Be a good girl.

Yes somewhere- my sick and twisted mind turned this into a crazy D/s scene and that is what calmed my brain. She was in control and the girl was her sub assistant. I would open my eyes to see instruments, the girls eyes behind her mask. The rubbing of the vacuum across my tongue. Fingers in my mouth, pressure, pain. Music. It was fast and hectic. It hurt, but was not torturous. I always knew when it was the big pliers. Something about the feel of it as it grabbed me. I knew. Then pressure. More pressure.

My hands grabbing on the arm rest- clenching. I was shaking from the shots, heart racing, more pressure she said, no kidding-bitch?? More pressure... closer, shaking, pressure, and give. It was like an orgasm- but without the pleasure. She was raping my mouth and I was paying for it.

When she spoke to me, I would turn down the radio but she mostly didn't other than to command me to move. Wider, Up, Open. She moved quickly, and without reason that I could determine. Some parts more stubborn than others. Then the drill.

I turned the radio loud, trying to drown out the sounds until the music was piercing my ears. I wanted to be gone from this. I wanted to stop but there we no safe words in this scene. It had to just be finished. Almost over, honey. She said. Hands out and they left the room.

Don't call me honey, you bitch. I thought. My eyes still closed and there was a bright light behind them. I put my hand over my eyes and waited for their return. I felt that they were gone a long time. Giving me a break so she could go to the victim in next room, I supposed. Until she returned again. My blood still on her gown. New gloves and her fingers back in my mouth.

The drill again, but this time I felt it more. I heard it louder. It was in my head and I could not escape it. She was pushing with the big tools, pushing lower. Why all the damn pushing, was she putting them back IN- or taking them out. I knew not to ask questions, but I wasn't sure. But I was feeling this. Wincing went to groaning, louder, until she stopped. She punished me for stopping her with the needles again. Big needles, under my tongue- in my cheek, jaw, roof of my mouth. The assistant stared down at me. Emotionless and focused. Like she was enjoying this. Perhaps if she tried to help me, she would get the needles too. I didn't blame her for following the lead. Clearly neither of us were in control of this situation. She just held the vacuum, sucking out all my blood. Not once did she comfort me. Not once did she grab my hand, or stroke my arm. No, she was enjoying this. Watching me helpless, violated.

Again. She was frustrated now- more forceful and impatient with my lack of cooperation. She was pushing against me, my neck straining, my face sore. I tried to will myself to let go. So it would stop. Please stop. No.

To the other source of her frustration, on top. She drilled, and pulled. Drill. Pull. Fuck, I wanted to stop. Please, just leave it. She grabbed and pulled- there was no more needles. This was all. My eyes started to tear, but she did not stop. I moaned out, but she did not stop. Drill. Push. Pull. "It's just a tip" she said, finally stopping.

I wiped my eyes as she went back to the bottom. My eyes closed, I did not want to see. I felt the big tool again. I was frustrated and trapped. I was done with this. I turned up the music. The Hold Steady, Yeah Sapphire. Loud.

My head was spinning. Loud music. She held my mouth open at my front teeth, I focused on the latex against my lip. The vacuum brushing, hard metal against my tongue. The bitter taste from the needles. She pushed harder this time. I felt it on the other side of my face. More. More. I held my breath and grabbed on to the arms. More.... Harder. I heard it when it happened. Release.

"There it is...." she said.

Vacuum, suction, rinse. She finally seemed slightly pleased with me. Fucking Bitch.

"One more- this tip." and she went in once more. One more, I told myself. I was pissed off now. Willing my body to cooperate. Drill. Loud, echoing in my skull and I could not drown it out. I couldn't feel it, but I could hear it- louder than anything. The big tool again- I decided, for the last time. I was so exhausted I wanted to sleep. I hurt to open my mouth, but I did as I was told. Just fucking do it, I thought to myself. Just do it and leave me the fuck alone. Pressure... harder, more. It was killing me and it felt like she was draining my eyeball though my gums. It was sadistic torture, she kept going and I didn't wince or moan. I was stoic, quiet, angry.
Just fucking DO IT!

and release.....

Fucking finally.

The rest, I practically slept through. The bone file, the sutures. This was just for her sadist pleasure now, and I didn't care. I was done. I was exhausted.

She shoved padding into my mouth, gave me some directions and left the room. She was done with me. The assistant sat me up and wiped of my face with a wet towel. She smiled at me, finally. "All done" she said, her eyes warming. She was pretty.

Sore, exhausted and dizzy, I was still somewhat shaking as I left the room.
What the hell just happened?

dental psychosis

Gabriel had his first dental work done yesterday. He was not blessed with good healthy teeth. He brushes and all that- but if his father or I are any indication, well, yeah- he just wasn't blessed.

We have new Dental Insurance, a PPO. The First PPO plan I have ever elected for. We are an forced to be an HMO family because paying a % of good care is good if you don't have someone who is hospitalized 8-10 times a year. It just isn't possible. But this year I opted for the more expensive dental plan, realizing that the work that I need done is not going to be covered at ALL by an HMO so I'd rather pay for a percentage of it, than pay for ALL of it. Anyway... Gabe needed nerve treatments and crown on a few bad cavities. 4 of those. AHK!

It turns out that there was an abcess and they needed to remove one of those teeth. So they did that.

The dentist office I chose is popular in my neighborhood as it specializes in Children. Ok, that works fine. There's a few things I had serious issues with.

a) Papoose Boards. I am not even going to look it up and link it, cause it just makes me sweat. I discussed my concerns on this with his dentist, a very nice, young attractive Indian lady who assured me that they LOOK scary but they are really necessary. "I will have sharp instruments in your sons mouth. If he flails his arm, and hit me- I could cut his lip right off."

ok. fine. I don't like it- but I work in a hospital. I understand when restraints are for the patients own safety.

b) Parents are not allowed in the room when the work is being done. Ummm- what?? Why not? What if he's scared- what if he needs me? The dentist assured me that when parents are around, kids tend to play it up more. You know how other people tell you that your kids are SOO polite and so well behaved, and you just don't see it? It's like that. If I am there he will scream and cry and throw a fit, but generally when the parents are not there- they don't do that.

ok. fine.

So I prepared Gabe yesterday, using the terms that the dentist used and he seemed all good. At one point, AFTER they told me about needed to remove the tooth I could SWEAR that I heard him screaming. A mother KNOWS the sound of her childs scream. You know it, cause it's like running a blade up my raw spine and splicing it open. I turned and looked towards the front desk, past the other people- and it was as if nobody else heard it. I felt like I was going to pass out.

I breathed deep, sent a text message to someone (who clearly missed my point) and then just sat for a few more minutes until Gabe came out. Looking a bit misty- big gauze in his mouth. The lovely young dentist called me over- gave me further instructions. He needs to do the last crown still- and he will need a spacer for that missing tooth until.... the new one comes in? (can't remember). I asked, was that Gabe I heard screaming?? She said no... he was pretty quiet and very sleepy the whole time.

hmmmmmm.....

I asked Gabe, who didn't seem traumatized at all. I asked if it hurt and he said, 'no not really'. He said it was tingly. He said it was a little pinch like they said. I asked if he cried, he said no. Well.... ok. Maybe the screams in my own head just SOUND like my children.

Oh- and when we got back to my mom's house, I mentioned that he had to go back one more time. THEN he started... screaming and crying and throwing a fit.

Well I'll be damned...
--

And his dental work is NOTHING compared to what I've got coming.

and my sinuses are clear!!

I woke up with a really bad lower back ache today.  I am not sure if it's because all the driving I did this weekend, or because I fell asleep on the couch watching House last night.  Either way, I woke up this morning with really bad lower back pain and the inability to walk without a mild limp.  By the time I walked from the parking structure to my office, it was hurting my legs.  

Apply heat.

My boss showed up, limping.   A month ago she ran a marathon and pulled something in her knee.  Last week, that same knee gave out- causing her to fall off a curb and today she had an xray and realized that she broke her ankle, in two places.

So today- as she and I- both short heavy set girls, with curly brown hair and dark skin were walking to lunch, limping... we got lots of comments- the most common ( used twice)

"Were you two in the same car accident?"

It was quite funny.

I went to the pharmacy to buy these:

They work well- except they are activated by air- so if you are sitting in a chair and leaning back- they don't stay as hot.  So it's not like I can lay on my back and have the heat really work.  The pharmacist suggested this.

Yeah, I'm so hot.

So all day, I wreak of 'old lady' -  but it does feel a little better.  

December blues

Today was not really better than yesterday.  It's hard to get in to it- but I just feel kinda twisted and lost and not at all in the mood to deal with any of it.

I came home from work today and just ignored everyone.  I didn't want to talk at all.  I made kids dinner and chatted to my friends online.  All night.  I don't know if it made me feel better, but at least I don't feel worse.  

The kids all went to bed early and quietly except for Alex.  Who apparently just decided NOT to do the dishes tonight.  ummm. what the fuck.  If I am not naggin ghte hell out of of everyone, things truly don't get done.  

I asked him just now, at almost midnight?- why didn't you do the dishes?  You didn't even get started?  He gave me a blank stare.  That stupid fucking look that his FATHER has.  "I don't know."  Jesus. I wanted to punch him.  What the fuck is that??

It's days like this that I wonder if anyone in this house gives a a shit about me.  I'm so fucking tired of this crap!!  I hate to act like I'm so unappreciated, but I'm just angry.  I hate to be so woe is me.  I don't need a wooden cross here.  But jesus... I think I have a right to be angry because I feel like I have sacrifice a lot for this family and I think that the fucking dishes can get done right??

Ok. this is a stupid post.  I know.  I'm depressed.  It's not the holidays either.  I wish this was seasonal depression.  No this is just familial depression.

Kickin it- Half Nekkid

What a long day!!

Took the husband to the ER this morning- like 3AM. What I should have done is just gone right upstairs to my office from the ER- but instead I drove him, and went to bed for a few hours- then went into work three hours late. He's ok. Same old.

Today is one of those days that my head screams for a different life. That I wish I didn't have to deal with these issues and I could just be stressed about money like everyone else.

Tonight though- the kids are at my moms, and I've got the apartment to myself. So I'm walking around half nekkid, eating a bowl of ice cream (for dinner btw) and just kickin back, enjoying my Christmas tree.
Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!!