My dreams have been trying to tell me something lately and I can’t quite figure it out. They’ve been awfully detailed and crazy and I remember then quite well when I wake up, but as I go about my daily business I forget. Maybe I am forgetting on purpose because I don’t want to know what my dreams are trying to tell me. Maybe my dreams are crazy because Ryland, even though he’s three months, still isn’t ready to sleep for more than 3 or 4 hours at a time and my body is desperate for a longer stretch. Never in my life did I think I could function on 4-5 hours of sleep on a regular basis. Funny how things change.
So I’ve been thinking that I might need to get back into some therapy. Ryland has given my life meaning and purpose, but his existence doesn’t wipe out the 29 years I lived before he came around and all of the crap I picked up along the way. I still have way too much anger and sadness inside me and frankly I’m tired of it.
Even though I think maybe I need therapy, hearing someone else tell you that is quite annoying. I was on the phone with Gordon’s mother the other day, and we were discussing her son’s problems and what we need to do to help him. And she suggested group therapy. Which at first didn’t bother me, I barely even registered it. But later that day, it was poking at me with a little stick, saying, “hey christa, group therapy, you know what that means right? you gonna let her get away with that? of course you are you big frigging wuss. you need a lot more than group therapy.”
Because Gordon’s mother wasn’t suggesting group therapy as a way to help just Gordon. She thinks I need it as well. As if somehow MY problems are tantamount to his. As if Gordon’s drug addiction is somehow MY fault, that I’m causing it, that I put him in this situation and made his life so difficult he had no choice but to steal and lie and abuse drugs. She would never say this to me, oh no, never. But I can hear it in her voice and see it in her face. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant and dragged him to Arizona and made him get a job and be a responsible, decent human being.
holy crap. Something just ocurred to me right now. I bet Phyllis thinks that I got pregnant ON PURPOSE. I was feeling that baby crunch because I’m older and I was running out of options and I wanted a baby so bad but didn’t want to be get married so I manipulated Gordon to get what I wanted, because I was desperate and knew I could control her precious innocent little baby. I BET SHE TOTALLY THINKS THAT!
Okay, she probably doesn’t think that at all, but just to be clear, his dick had just as much to do with this baby as my vagina.
Anyway, let’s all hope that Gordon will be in rehab soon and on the right path to being a worthy father to Ryland.
I got sick in the past two days and now I feel like crap and boy it’s hard to be a good mommy when you feel like this, but I’m trying.
I have a ton of new pictures to add to Ryland’s gallery, but I just can’t find the energy right now.
- oh my sweet wilco.
- Okkervil River.