To be able to let go and speak freely – or act freely – in times of high emotion is a gift that can be given to those one cares about. But first the person has to be able to trust that the listener will be able to simply listen without judgment or reacting defensively (and certainly not reacting offensively).

For as long as I can remember, other people have considered me to be a good listener, and felt comfortable, even on short acquaintance, to exhibit that level of trust in me. And I am pleased to say I have yet to let anyone down in that regard. It’s not always easy, to be sure – sometimes reactions rise quick, or advice presses itself to be voiced when no advice was asked for. But I have never been afraid of challenge, and I appreciate that those I care about trust me so much.

In truth, I also gain from these seemingly one-sided expressions; which each exercise of trust I am reminded that I do indeed have the strength and resolve to be there for those who need me, no matter how I may doubt myself. They can see my strength when I might feel weak, and rely on me when I feel I cannot trust myself.

I end up in a cycle: I push myself, then get exhausted and fall behind, then push myself harder to catch up.  I have been trying to simplify and just do those things I know are most important to me, but one of the problems I have is that everything seems important.

Maybe I just don’t know how to prioritize.  I think I do, but if I can’t manage all my projects (which there really aren’t that many of), then maybe I don’t.  It wouldn’t be the first time I thought I understood the meaning of a word and found out everyone else had a different understanding of it …

My bff and fwb both tell me I am trying to do too much.  Even my neighbor laments the plight of the American Mom: we’re expected to raise children, manage homes, work, and still find time for relationships and self-enrichment.  And just wanting to be able to do it all isn’t enough.  So I have learned.

But finally I got it fixed, and even managed to make it better than what I had first intended. And I was so pleased with myself I danced around the house, singing silly songs about how mad my coding skills are.

Then I went grocery shopping with the neighbor, and it turns out she needs help with some homework, which is well within my realm of experience. So I will be able to put some of my otherwise languishing administrative skills to use, which is a nice thing to look forward to. She also mentioned a job she will be starting soon, and there might be an opening for me as well. So that’s pretty cool too.

But better still, we got the tax return much sooner than I expected. It’s such a nice surprise when looking at the bank account to see more money than anticipated instead of less!

But best of all, I get to end the evening chatting with my technomancer hawttie.

So today is an awesome day. Just awesome.

It’s a no-kill shelter, but they require a $50 “donation” per animal – doesn’t matter that a big part of the reason I have to give them up is that we can’t afford to keep them.

I also have an appointment for orientation on the 12th for Personal Assistants for the Center for Independent Living; the pay is crap but the work is light, mostly just providing company to elderly folks.  I’ve done the work before and should have no problem with it again.  I’m also starting to think I need more structure to my days, and this will be a good solution.

Did manage to get the new template for my other blog set up, although it was an exercise in anger management working with unfamiliar code in unfamiliar language that behaved unpredictably – code is only supposed to do what you tell it to do, but this stuff has a mind of its own and I had to redo modules three and four times because a change some where else would completely undo an hour’s work in an unrelated portion of the script.

Otherwise, I’m having a much harder time keeping on track with my plans that I feel I should.  I have an appointment with my psychologist this Friday, but I don’t have much hope of finding any real answer during the session.  Also had another anxiety attack today despite not having forgotten my meds last night.  Maybe I’m already building up a tolerance or maybe, like so many other drugs, this stuff just isn’t working right.

Rose has a near-addiction for an online game site.  She’s generally a responsible kid, but when it comes to this particular habit, she’s got no control at all.

I’ve spoken with her repeatedly about the fact that my evening medications make me very drowsy, and I need her to be especially conscientious about not taking advantage if I fall asleep before dragging her away from the computer for the night.  And usually she is.

But over the weekend, she not only took advantage, she flaunted it to her online pals.  When we checked her online activity and saw this, my Husband grounded her from the computer, and also banned her from that site indefinitely.

So the last couple of days she’s been sulking in bed (not that she’s really suffering: she has her books, Japanese tapes, drawing stuff, and mp3 player) and refusing to be in the same room with her dad except for meals.

But she comes in while I’m working and pouts, “Non-violent protest doesn’t work when no one cares!”

I pointed out she made a bad choice and is now dealing with the consequences.  Too bad.  And of course, the more I talked, the stormier and scowlier she got, until she stomped off back to bed.

I am soooo not a drama-mama.  But, hey, it’s Monday; what else could I have expected?

But migraines are entirely different.  I can’t ignore pain that is in my brain where no pain should be able to be felt.  I even lecture myself that since there are no nerve endings in the brain, there is no way to feel anything at all, and especially not pain.

My brain does not listen, and the pain goes on.

So instead of arguing with my stubborn brain today, I’m trying to simply distract myself with more pleasant thoughts … namely, cuddling with my technomancer sweetie and maybe listening to him talk about his latest programming project.

Basically, I was having the attacks on Tuesdays because I worked one job Monday through Thursday and the other Friday through Sunday.  By Tuesday afternoon my body figured out another week had gone by and I didn’t have a weekend in there – a time to relax, or at least do work more directly related to my own home, family and projects.

I listened to my body and made some adjustments to my schedule so that I could have the time I needed for myself, and the attacks stopped.

Then a year or so later, the seizures started, and I ended up with a pill-pushing charlatan of a neurologist that *started* me on a ridiculously high dose of Depakote: 1250mg a day.  I called it “Dope-n-coat” because it reduced my life to an existence in pale fog.  And it had no effect on the seizures.  Finally I got a second opinion, got the dosage reduced to a reasonable level (250mg/day), and although the seizures were still unaffected, the medication was very effective at preventing one of the kinds of migraines I had been getting regularly.

And since then, the anxiety attacks have returned.  Only now they strike without warning, no reason, to way to prevent them.  Finally, after a week of four and five attacks a day, I saw the doctor and got a prescription for a med to help.

It’s been a couple weeks and so far so good … except that last night I didn’t take it, and today, sure as sunshine, I got walloped with a panic attack.  At least it reminded me to take my pill – I am notoriously bad about “staying on meds” even when I feel they’re helping me.

Although I have children, I don’t consider myself a “mommy blogger” – I am definitely not one of those women who feel their lives revolve around their little darlings.  I love my children and they are important parts of my life.  But only parts: I am still a *person* with my own interests and goals.  Being a mother is not the end-all, be-all of my day.

I also have a Husband, but again, I do not stop being me because I am a wife.  We unschool the kids, but the other homeschoolers near us are too different (most are using Christian curricula, and a few that aren’t have family-raising views too different from our own to make me comfortable with the thought of interacting with them).

I’m mostly agnostic, as is my Husband; the children are largely undecided, although the eldest finds Buddhism agreeable most of the time.  (Not always; she likes meat too much to become a frugavore.)

I suppose I just don’t understand the “join” mentality.  When I was young I never fit in with my peers, and perhaps that failure in those formative years set the pattern I have today.  Whenever I find a group of people I have something in common with, I find myself focused more on the inevitable differences.

The only exception to this has been the drum circle I attend during the warm months.  I think, mostly, I have been able to participate because they only meet once a month and because it’s a very casual affair.  I can show up or not, and it doesn’t mean I do or not belong.  And, most everyone there also self-identifies as not being able to belong anywhere else, so it is that very comfortable environment of a group that does not like groups.

The irony is delicious.

It’s simple enough to say I have never met anyone like him.  But that is deceptively simple.

We have a lot in common, and are similar in many ways.  And in another person, those similarities would probably cause problems: many times I have found that when some one shares certain personality traits with me, there is no room for give-and-take.  Those very similarities force distance rather than forging closeness.

Perhaps it is the difference in our ages that makes it possible for me to overcome that potential pitfall.  I have always dated older (sometimes very much older) than myself, in part because I am drawn to the wisdom and self-assurance that comes with age and experience.  But “my” technopunk T is younger than me, which puts me in the rare position of being the older, maybe wiser one.

Although he modestly self-depreciates his intellect, he has that same spark of brilliance I can’t help but respond to; his skill with computers is intuitive to the point of technomancy.  He pursues knowledge and reads as voraciously as I do – and despite our affection for each other he never lets me get away with sloppy logic or compromises his own point of view simply to be “nice.”

Neither of us has any interest in the pabulum of pointless social prattle.  Sometimes we spend hours in discussion, ranging widely in topic and tone; other times we simply “hang out,” each of us mostly focused on our own projects but keeping communication open, even if it is mostly an exchange of smiles capped by hugs goodnight.

And sometimes, there are the intense, sweet interludes of physical affection.  All this is more than I could have ever hoped for in a friend and lover; and yet, I am further blessed by the fact that he is – to use the vernacular – damn hawt.

I try not to think too much about it in general … I am just thankful each day to have a friend like him, and thankful too when we can be “friends with benefits” … Now and then I do find myself contemplating a future wherein he has come to join my family, and somehow I manage to cheat the odds again and have a happily ever after with two wonderful men and my children.  But those thoughts are always brief, and fleeting.

If nothing else, I have learned that the fastest way to ruin happiness is to overthink it.