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Becca took this picture.


Harry was sleeping as you can tell so he didn't know this picture was taken. It was probably wrong of me to send him this picture but I did anyway. Because this is ultimately what he wants with me and this is what I cannot give him, and it's the biggest reason contributing to us breaking up. So at least he has this reminder of what could have been, right? 


Ya know... if anyone around here knows me from the way far back mindsay and the person I was then and got to know me now you would think that my life was completely different. You'd be right overall. Yet .... here it is 2016, I am now 36 years old, my addict mother in which I use to blog about passed in 2014 but still addictions and addiction are everywhere. 

How the fuck did I land myself back in some fucked up situation of dealing with now an addict sister.. Only it isn't just her. Her children are involved. My mothers grandchildren and I am still just blah.. I really just want to slap the fucking woman and beat the shit out of her until she can explain to me what would make her want to keep putting a needle in her arm knowing that she has lost her children to the system 3 times now and has only had them back for year. What kind of mother wants to make it so that her own children can go through the shit we did as children.. I mean.... this bitch got me fucked up... What do I look like.. I was born yesterday?

Update on me
Thought I would give you an update on my life.

2014 was a rough year with my son getting a divorce and trying to start his own creative agency.

My son just started a new job as Director of Marketing and Communications for Botanica, Wichita Gardens.

I had my second great-granddaughter born yesterday.

My husband has been working at the same location for almost 19 years now.

We will celebrate our 19th wedding anniversary in November. 

I have 11 grandchildren and two great-granddaughters. 


Potential Shifts in Transition
Could I possibly let go of contrasting myself to my sisters?

That's been such a foundation of who I am. I understand who I am in relation to my sisters. She's this one, I'm that one. They're like this, I'm like that.

I don't do this with Jewel or Dawn. I delight in Dawn. I rest in Jewel's presence. I celebrate and love both of them, I loved living with them. But it was rare that I compared with them, because it would be silly to do so - we're so different.

Can I admit that my sisters and I are different, and that it doesn't mean that I'm divergent, or they are? Just that we're made as different people, for different purposes, and these don't overshadow each other at all.

I don't know.

But I do know that I'm different - physically, I am different than both of my sisters. But I had a moment while running the other day - that might not just be, "Because I made poor choices at X stage of development, I now have this to live with." It might just be that I'm made for something that requires a lot more physical strength.

And, like it or now, I did make a decision that put me on a path away from the arts, while they continued to pursue. We're now in very different places. Can I accept that my work as a musician can exist separately from theirs in their arts?

Jewel and Savannah both play guitar, and sing. Sometimes I'm hopeful to learn something from them, sometimes I'm just thankful for their gifts. It's become much more the second, the more I know them.

Deeper - can I admit that my birth family is not the standard by which "right" shall be evaluated in my world? Can I see that my mom does not trust God, and that's led to trying to run a marriage God built by values the world built, and that's led to a lot of the wounds in that house? Can I accept that my sisters' approval is a far lower priority than my God's?

Really...can I not?


I was talking with my mentor last week about some of what's been happening, and she said that it sounds like I'm either pregnant, or not getting enough sleep.

Understand, people are seen as weak, where I work, for needing more sleep. Spoiled. Out-of-touch with the work we're doing. We're supposed to put the needs of the unit first, then each other, then ourselves. Only in person will someone say, "Take care of yourself, so you can take care of the others around you." It doesn't go on paper. I'm not talking about wants, but basic needs.

We're figuring out that a big part of why I'm such a mess is because I try and try to go and go on less resources than my body needs. It causes enough stress buildup to bring about some mental moments - renders me unreliable, to say the least.

Going back to birth-family, common understanding we had was that there was no shame in having depression, or any kind of emotional/mental problems, really - shame was in doing nothing about it. Or knowing what needed to be done (read: having a good idea what would probably help) and not doing it. It was silly to be ashamed of the cards you were dealt. It was irresponsible not to care for others, care for your own health, in how you played them.

I didn't understand that, then. The idea was there, all through - I just didn't grasp it then.

My thing was that I Did Not Want to be on meds. Mine was mild enough that it could be managed with lifestyle changes. But those changes are a lot of work to maintain. I find little corners I can cut here and there.

Like dropping down how much I'm sleeping. There's work to be done! And trying to make up for it with coffee.

And I turn into She-Hulk after several weeks of this.

I was afraid, really, of telling Rick that I needed more sleep. He's spent the past few years working for the same employer, and I was afraid he'd think that I was being lazy, or a spoiled princess (the two common thoughts about people trying to get 7+ hrs).

I forgot that it was Rick. :) He looked at me incredulously, and explained that he'd been trying to get me to get more sleep. That was when I remembered - oh yeah. I'm the one who's always trying to get just a few more housechores done, and he's the one encouraging me to call it quits, I've done enough for today, it's time to rest now. So really, I just have to stop fighting him on this, and listen.

This is good.

But next time our team goes out for a few weeks...I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know if I can tell them, "Hey guys, I need to take an hour to work out every day, and oh by the way, I also need 8 hours of sleep a night. Ciao."


Sister Sister
Dallas is one of my coworkers - this morning, we were discussing approaches to parental discipline, what age timeouts are more appropriate than spanking, and at what point parent stops intervening and just lets the offspring have the consequences their actions would result in. (With me and my Dad, it was when I was 21. No question, I've always been a late-bloomer.)

Dallas told me about how, when she was a kid and she'd get in fights with her sister, their mom would make them sit on the couch and hold hands for an hour. And that clicked with something in me - I can see some divine exasperation with some of the squabbles between me and other siblings within the church. "You WILL get along. You WILL learn to love each other."

Because despite what humanity teaches, it's NOT okay for me to just walk away from a relationship where I struggle to get along with the other person. When I was a kid, I had to learn how to get along with my sisters - family doesn't give up on each other.

And this one has me grinding my gears right now, because of Elsa. ('course, a year ago, it would have been because of another woman, and a year before that, someone else - this is not Elsa-specific, it's just what I'm working through right now.)

Elsa is lovely, and fit, and stylish, and German. She and her husband are part of our little community-church, sometimes on the fringe owing to work-complications, but always caring.

A few things about Germans, in my experience. They come across as rude because, unlike Americans, they will say exactly what they have a problem with about whatever you've done, or who you are. This is probably a respect-and-efficiency-thing, I think, "Let's not waste anyone's time here - there is a problem, I will inform you of the problem so that you will take care of it."

They are also meticulous housekeepers.

I had the responsibility of preparing Elsa's home for her return once, and I asked two of my girlfriends to help with it. I had not taken into account Elsa's background - by an American standard, the house looked pretty good.

Elsa and her husband were appalled, and let me know, in very German fashion. And I was upset. Housekeeping is one of the womanly tasks* I've been raised with - if I fail at housekeeping, I'm less of a woman.
*Get your feathers calmed down. I was raised in a very sexist female-superiority home. Males were seen as slovenly, uncultured, and less intelligent than women, and it was up to us to keep civilization running and not to be too hard on them, offer them a lower standard and be pleased when they meet it, because of course they can't attain what we can. Of course that's offensive - just not in the direction everyone seems to grab when I say anything is woman-specific. I was taught that guys CAN clean, but since they don't do a very good job of it, we don't evaluate their masculinity based on it.

**Let me add, I was not aware that this prejudice had been so deeply instilled in me until I left home and encountered something of the rest of the world. The cleanest home among my friends belongs to a man who is a dear brother and wishes I wouldn't walk barefoot all over the place.

In addition to housekeeping, women were to be attractive, physically fit, stylish, accomplished, talented in preparation of food - Elsa knocks it out of the park in all of these areas. I was good with appreciating her and aspiring to be like her, until I failed her and she let me know it.

Instantly, I resented everything about Elsa. Resented that she got to stay home with the baby - I wanted a baby, I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, I found a lot more fulfillment in caring for my home than my work. Resented that she was so physically fit, and I had to work so hard at the gym and STILL have a softer body than her trim form. Resented some of our cultural differences - she's perfectly comfortable doing gardening in a bikini, around my husband and his friends, because where she grew up, that isn't flaunting. Resented her sense of fashion, her skill in preparing food (our group of friends gather once a month to share a meal, and Elsa's contributions are always wonderful), resented that, as far as I could tell, Elsa was a real woman and I wasn't.

(Compassion is supposedly my strength, but that's in a weird place where it's either unwanted - like at my job, which has been firmly trying to beat it out of me for four years - or taken for granted, that compassion should be as natural as breathing. It usually was, before this job, so I don't think of it as something I'm "good at," because it's something I thought everyone did.)

Overall, a lot of insecurity on my part had decided to wrap itself around Elsa. She didn't ask for this. She wasn't in my face with her talents, gifts, and resources. She has done nothing wrong - even if she had, I'd still have to work things out with her, because we're supposed to be family. I've been resenting her.

And I don't have that option, I'm realizing. She's my sister. I have to find a way to love her - I don't have the option to resent her and try to be close to God.

The ironic tool in this is what Rogue taught me - finding the common ground with somewhat-estranged friends, rather than focusing on how different we are. It ended up blowing out of control, and I had to take a break from Facebook, because I got so carried away with wanting to show how similar we are that I stopped caring whether God was pleased by what I was posting - only whether my friends were.
I used it wrongly there, but that's the tool I think is needed here - focusing on what Elsa and I have in common, and building from that. This is not the first time I've been jealous of another sister, but it's a time when I might learn how to handle it properly, and hopefully repair other relationships to come.

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