Passion WoundsMy phone rang at 1:15. I opened my eyes and answered. I’d been awake from around 5:30 pm Sunday until 10 am this morning so I was very much in need of sleep. There was a small cracker gaffe. As we talked I reached over and grabbed a cracker and shoved the little round Ritz in my mouth while talking. I started laughing because it was like, my body was in the moment but my mind was not. I apologized for the crunch in his ear, which he found humorous.
3:30 pm EST

I asked him if he remembered something he and I were to keep discussing. He said he’d make a note to remember to ask two sessions ago. He didn’t remember. I said, when you say to me, “we can work on this issue” I don’t have confidence that we will. You’ve said this to me several times but it’s not brought up again. He said, why do you think you haven’t brought it up again? That’s when I realized, he expects me to bring up the things he tells me we can work on. With that point now clear I said to him, I need a prompt because the subjects are scary for me. I also want you to bring it up because I want to know that you are committed to the issue and will assist me with it. For a long time now I’ve heard him say, “we can work on that” or “we can talk more about this next week” but it doesn’t happen. I want to know we’re on the same page. I want to know that you understand the importance of these two issues.

He asked the question, “Are you still suicidal?” The answer is yes. He asked if I have a plan, I said I’m inching that way. Do not ask me to be strong. Do not expect me to be anything other than I am, a girl who laughs and jokes, paints and plants, but wants to stop this madness. I’m exhausted, I’m utterly, wholly exhausted. While I do not ask you to rescue me, I do expect you to be on your game.

He asked why my relationship with Snow is different from her older sister, Betty. I said that Betty dotes over me. She wants to do my dishes, wants to do my laundry, wants a key to my house but I said no. She wants me to call every three days to check in. She’s controlling. Snow and I talk, connect, cry together. She treats me as a peer not a child. Snow is 60 years old and quite spirited. She’s a little dragon when her hormones are out of whack. When she comes here I have a cold pack out for her and a hand fan. Menopause! We laugh, oh we laugh. Now, Snow is the woman put in charge of my spirituality. She’s my personal Bible study conductor. Thank goodness he has a sense of humor. I mess with her all the time. When she comes in I ask, “Do you want your usual to drink? Whisky straight, six ounces?” One time during the study I pulled out a bottle that said Crown Royal and poured its contents into a glass and shot it back. That’s the only time I’ve ever really gotten one over on Snow. The bottle was empty, some of it she had at a time when we were not studying the Bible. I put tea in the bottle and it really did look like Crown Royal. I mess with her and she harasses me.

Writing that makes me think of something….. friendship. I have a multi-dimensional relationship with Snow. It’s not all about me or about her. Her actions aren’t to make her look good or me to look good. She’s here because she wants to be here and we interact on a peer-to-peer level. Snow and I are friends. If anything were to happen to me Mary Jane goes to her. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with my girl. Her husband is the one who upholds my living will and oversees copyrights and the distribution of antique dolls and tea cups. We’re friends, Snow and I.

Page 2 of Missippi EyesBetty. Well…, it’s all about Betty right down to the part where I found out this woman called my dag on doctor to verify time of appointment right after I gave her the time and address but not the phone number. That right there was a huge trigger because my biological mother used to call my doctors and report symptoms to them. I was grown. I had my own insurance, didn’t live at home and the woman was calling my doctor. They let me know, too. Soooooo, since Betty can’t keep a boundary I’ve set up with my doctors that there are specific individuals who can call for information. It seems that laws would prohibit a persons just calling and saying, I need to verify an appointment for such and such a person and then get that information, time and date. That didn’t sit well with me and has been fixed!

Snow has eaten here, has tasted tea here, tasted some of the juices I’ve made and has taken home food for her hubby to try. We’ve swapped beer, we’ve snacked and she’s had a nice relaxed time. Betty has never been in my home longer than 30 min including the other day when we had a sit down talk. She has never, ever, ever had a glass of water here. She’s never tasted anything I’ve cooked. When she comes she will not even sit down. She stands at the door and waits for me to get ready so we can go. Anyone from the south would recognize this as an ‘ism’, an expression I didn’t know until I moved to Tyler, Texas.

It’s odd though because she’ll take my laundry home or she’ll rush through my dishes, but never has she just sat down for a visit or chat. I’ve eaten at Betty’s house and I’ve gone over to watch a movie. We made tea at her house and giggled like school girls, but time at my home is off limits. I desire to share my home with people, when I can’t I start to wonder what’s wrong with me.

2-21-17 Faith

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