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princessandthepee's Blog

Cry To Heaven

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I feel like a loosely bridled horse right now. I could take my head, but in consideration of all, should I?
I did tell him, this distance between us is an off balance result of what was true. He felt like stepping onto the doorstep of home for the first time. I'm nearing official middle age, and I do mean the first time. What that means, silly to say, is that he is the first for me. I gave him myself, that was unique. And then he let princess do all what he did. I still just have to shake my head because I cannot understand it, any of it.

I Wish I Knew Where I Put My Glasses

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I hate it when I lock myself in the bathroom. I hate what it has come to mean, what it indicates about where I am at. I hate it

I don't want to be seen. I don't feel safe in my house. This mental struggle I am having with reclaiming my right to be in my house is tortuous.

Oh my goodness, I found my glasses! Buried at the bottom of big endless purse! This calls for some Amy Winehouse!

I am going to do something here I have not before. Share my most precious things, talk about my sons.

Mental Space

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I have needed space to go mental, or something. I've been realizing that there has not been one moment, yes, not one, where I have simply been alone in my house without fear, without pressure, whithout something looming for 18 months, or a little longer. My routine has become to park my car in the garage, enter the house and go straight to the bedroom. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200.00, go straight to jail. There has been the way my husband sees it, knowing that or not, that our room is the best place on earth.

Back Where We Belong

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My fingers move here on the keyboard, waiting for the place to begin to splice out what I have to say. It's not just the step mother's layers of bitterness and disappointment that grow with time, it is theirs, too. Everything intensifies, and everyone does blame one another.
I've stayed off the site for months in due to my spouse who experiences hurt when I do post. As I have shared in many-a-previous post, I have let what felt like righteous anger out at him. I've sworn off it. I've kept to myself on all levels, on all levels.

Princess's Special Ops Mission

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Ok, so here's the funny story about princess.

A few weeks ago my husband stayed home from the clinic on a Monday. Usually that is a late night for both of us and neither of us would be at home. I had been encouraging my husband to take a day off for a few weeks. Finally, he did.

Golden Showers

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Pee was at wrestling camp Monday through this evening. While his mother is busy taking his father to court to get blood from a stone for her to resume receiving alimony despite a brilliant idea manufactured by none other than the lovely Mrs. #1 to 'earn' an associates degree in EVENT PLANNING! whilst already having a master's degree and state license to practice social work, I parcel out which bills to pay or not to cover pee's expenses. Anything my husband takes pride in paying toward his own child's needs is scrutinized by the Mrs.

princess's long reach

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I am utterly baffled and bewildered. I don't ususally have actual fights with my sister, she is a point of life for me, and, I hope, I am for her. We did have a terrible fight over how some information about the clinic was disseminated to certain providers at the clinic. In short, she distributed it and I was not aware of it, the few who were concerned feaked out, and it was a thing I could have easily assauaged them of had I known.

Hung Up on A Dream

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Last night I could not sleep for the nighmares. I did get up and do my ten and a half hours of sesseion with clients.

We all have our versions of dreams. The Zombies captured it best in their song of this name. You can step it into anytime you like. Maybe being a therapist is much like watching someone awake from sleep and rooting for them, hoping as they blink they untangle their dreams and nightmares and step fully into wakedness.

Write Me Up for Refusing to Step Into Molasses

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Gooey, sticky, too much for me and apparently, too much for him, that him being my husband.

Now that princess has been removed from the house, I find she is in fact not. In some ways not, but in other ways, yes.

There's much more at stake here than princess. There is me. And by extension, all those I need to give to. They matter much more than her.

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