*heehee*

Well, muffin, if you were to walk up to a girl with a vibrating pocket she'll know just how flexible and whippy that spatula of yours is! Mike, this topic was created by a professional rambler, so don't stop. AND DON'T CHANGE PS: I also loved Toy Story - especially tHAT bit!!!

weee....i might open a new topic called "mike's fucked-up brain/life". i think that life might sound a bit piteous, though, so i'll probably go with brain. if indeed i open it; there's something about a particular topic that makes it "sacred", i find. you gradually become more and more confident in posting as you grow to "know" the topic. bah, whatever. it's only words, after all. i went to see a hand surgeon today, in a posh private hospital just off Harley Street in London. if you don't know anything about the UK, then Harley Street is the place where all of the top geezers hang out and practice their alchemic trades. the surgeon gave me lots of advice on how to treat my finger, what to do with etc. it seem that if i had followed the advice of the previous people i had seen, then i would have lost probably 50% of the motion in my finger, which would have been my musical career (of any description) out of the window. thank goodness for medical insurance. i thought of something which made me feel all wobbly today. i remembered the time that i properly proposed to my erstwhile fiancee. getting two minutes at the end of our church youth group, trotting over to my coat and getting the ring out of it. then, popping back over to Louise, dropping down upon bendeth knee, and just doing the business. great. i'm one of those romantics who make you want to puke. if i'd have stopped to think for five minutes, and really been honest with myself, then maybe she a d i would still be together. impulsive prat, that's me. oh well. what would life be without mike being a dick and messing stuff up? people keep popping back into my brain just recently, which is probably a sign that there's a space not being filled by new stuff. caught in a nostalgia circle. did i write that here or in my diary? can't remember. blimey, i can't even remember what i posted last time. that's the fun of doing this - i've no idea what's going to come out until it appears on the screen. on the up-side, i can type again. i went to see the doctor, as i think i said, and he said that i should really start exercising it gain. it's phenomenally weak, and i've got a lot of motion to regain, but it's great being able to get my words out again. it was lovely being treated like a person at the hospital. a person with an injury, not a statistic holding up the next statistic in the queue. great. my father and i spoke to each other today. that makes it sound more dramatic than it was. we talk all the time, but never about real stuff; we talkk about the weather, about sport, about what i need etc., but not about real stuff. just something he's not very...good at, i guess. but today we spoke about some cool stuff, which was nice. it was good to get up to london, today. puts things in even more of a perspective. there are so many people there that *somebody* has to fancy you ;)

Mike, you sound very, very lonely. (sigh) I think most of us can relate - please keep believing that. You know, finding the person of your dreams is no guarantee that this depression and loneliness is going to go away. Sometimes finding that person can indeed make a lingering depression far, far worse, stupid as this may sound. You see, if you find someone with whom you can be perfectly at ease, and feeling, all the things that have been bottled up for years, things you might not even be aware of, are set free, and they come rushing into your heart and mind and gushing out of your eyes and lips and your every action in terrible fits of anger and dispair. I know. I very very nearly drove my loved-one away with my black anger and ugly fears, simply because they all descended upon me from every possible side at a time when I least expected it, they caught me unawares when I was supposed to be happy, and I had no idea how to deal with them. All my life I fought to get away from the things that bred these terrors inside my head, and then it dawned upon me that neither time, nor space, nor all the love in t e world was going to take it away. I was terrified. And though one thinks the person who loves us should be capable of helping, and that they MUST help us, because they love us, they aren't. Because they don't, they CAN'T know where it all comes from, they might listen as hard as they can, but still they will not be able to put themselves in our position, they have pasts and skeletons of their own to deal with. And then, because they love us so much, they think it is aimed against them. It is inevita le for us to project our deepest feelings onto those who are closest to us, because we want them (not even consciously alot of the time) to share, to feel our feelings. And that's what isn't fair about it. They experience it as angers towards THEM, fear towards THEM, dispair because of THEM. Do you know what I am trying to say? Solve the cause, not the outcome of the problem before you give yourself to another. Only that way will you be able to share it in such a way that she will be able to support you, and only that way will you be able to support her and make her happy too, despite past hurts. I am sorry, my advice is never good, but it is sent your way with much love.

your advice is always good, since it is advice. everyone's advice has been good in one way or another.

How are you feeling now, Mike? Oh, and to all our friends from America. HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!!!!!!!

well, i'm ok. which is good. i'm fairly up and down i guess, so while i'm happy now, in a few days i perhaps won't be. dunno. i'll just keep on checking in here and spewing my guts when i need to. thanks for being here.

Always

Wow, you really miss a lot when you take a vacation around here! I will add my concern to that expressed by the others, Mike, and hope you will do what you must to take care of yourself. Once you accept the special person you are, others will see it too because it will come from within, not from clothes, hairstyle, whatever. Hope your finger will recover soon, I always loved "Wonderful Tonight" (or anything by Eric clapton, for that matter).

Eric Clapton is a great guitarist. The little guinea piggies are really sweet. For some reason they love sitting on my shoulders, under my hair - it looks very funny with just their little white noses sticking out. SWEET! Still life has only four or five days' work ahead now . . . getting excited!

hi autumn... (glad to see you're back)... (ditto re: clapton... Absolute Greatest, in my book)...

shiiiitte. just had something like a major kick in the guts. i'm packing up my room at the moment, as i am moving house tomorrow. i was going through a box of stuff, chucking out the rubbish in it etc., and I came across a cartooon book called "I Love You", given to me by my former fiancee. i looked at the inscription in the front cover, and it nearly made me blub my face off. however, composure reigned supreme, and i just put it aside and carried on with the box emptying. the very next thing i came across was letter from her; one of scores and scores that i've got. for whatever reason, i decided to open it, and lo and behold it's the letter she sent the day after we split up. talk about reversing the emotion. i'm liked, gutted at the moment. what the hell do you do when you love someone for nearly ten years and you've come right round to end up in your starting place?

guess you just start over *hug*

there's only one thing worse than being depressed. it's being depressed, having somewhere to talk about it, typing in a whole load of exactly how you feel, and then losing it because netscape throws a wobbly. now i'm cheered right up. i'm on the floor, Ladies and Gentlemen, and remaining here for quite a while - possibly the whole summer! Let me hear a round of applause, yes, yes, thankyou, thankyou! would anybody mind if i just topped myself now?

i can't let go. of a lot of things. of hundreds of things. so i'm going to post them all here, as and when i think of them, in the hope that it'll be some form of exorcism. once again, this is a guilt-free PgDn situation for everyone. i can't let go of a score of girlfriends. people who i went out with years and years ago, for usually small periods. times that are inconsequential, and with people who probably don't even remember me. and now i'm going to name them. Helen. Sarah. Oh fuck yes, Sarah. Emma. Emma and the guilt. Louise. Louise and the immense guilt! how much guilt can one person feel? how badly can one person fuck up? how can one person fuck up a perfect God-given gift? and these are the things that are keeping me sane at the moment. if i let go of them, what the hell will i fill my brain with? there's no input at the moment. nothing to fill the space that giving up these things would leave. and so i hang on, and in some perverse way, they keep me sane. sanity through insanity. what the hell is that about? i know that if these things go, then i'll go right out of my mind, get locked up and they'll throw away the key. left in a padded room for the rest of my life, till wrestling with this crap, but without the opportunity to ever deal with it. gotta stay sane. mustn't go mad. what else can't i let go of. past successes. in anything. the fact that i screwed up my 18+ exams, when i should have waltzed through about five of them. the fact that i never live up to my potential. the fact that, although i thought i was so different, i'm just like my brother, who is one of the biggest tossers alive. i'm afraid of what the world demands of me. i'm getting older every day, and i'm not coping at the moment, so what the fuck will it be like in five years? i'm already suffering at the hands of my memory, of nostalgia, of being caught in some vicious downward spiral of self-pity. unable to claw my way back up. just grabbing onto the thing that's taking me down, because without it i'd fall even faster. i'm fucked. that's what it is. i'm totally and absolutely fucked. all that stuff with my mother. ll that stuff as a child. that's why i'm fucked. how can i get un-fucked?

for starters, mike, you can let go. i know this story that i think of when i feel this way. there was a man hanging on the edge of a cliff. he begged God to help him. God said, "Let go." the man argued that if he let go he would fall to his death. God simply said again, "Let go." But the man didn't want to listen thinking for sure that he would just die if he let go. Finally, God said again, "Let Go!" the man let go and landed on his feet. he only had a foot to drop. you see? though it isn't easy, fear always makes things harder, but once you let go of those things, you will allow yourself to be free to find all the things you want. no, you won't lose the memory. and think of them as stepping stones, not failures or where you f'ed up. you did the best you could in each situation with the knowledge you had at the time. so, next time, don't do it again, huh? *hug*

Well put, Wolf! Those are wise words, Mike, though easier said than done...

And we understand. Letting go is a very hard thing to do. And don't ever think you're like you're brother or any other tosser alive. You are Mike. Just that, no-one and nothing else. And if you don't always live up to your own standards (which I imagine must be incredibly high), it is because you are human, not because you're a bad person or weak or anything like that. We all miss wonderful chances in our lives, but we also TAKE wonderful chances from time to time, and that we must never let slip ou of our sight. And, Mike, I go to England fairly often, and one thing I've noticed about that country, is the fact that ALL the girls there are like ten thousand times more attractive than me, so . . . . . . . you're SURROUNDED by beautiful women, Mike. Just keep those bright eyes wide open, and choose the one you want. (Have been to your home page, you see, and I've seen for myself that you're not the kind of chap alot of women would say no to . . . �wicked smile�). But first you'll have to let go o Helen and Louise etc. of course . ..

The letting go story... I actually heard it a bit differently... A man hanging from a branch dangling over a cliff... "is there anyone up there? God? Please help me!" God says, "Let go." The man says, "Help me, please!!" God says, "Let go." The man, sweat pouring down his brow, looks up and says... "Is there anyone ELSE up there?" (mike, it's hard to let go... we all understand that) (glad to see the stream of consciousness writings work for someone other than myself!)

(lol)

Nick! What a pleasant surprise!!! Where have you been, what have you been doing? Come, this is the place to tell it all!

well, i'm moved in to my new house. a new room. same old me. same old problems. ahha...big laughs all round. i wrote to louise last week some time - did I tell you that? today i got the reply; i received it this morning, but i didn't think i could face reading it, as i had loads to do, so i just put it away. this evening, i braced myself for opening it and what was the point? none :) it was a one page thing, with very little about what i said or anything. but what the hell was i expecting? no idea. i guess i'm just upset, and grasping for any straws that are there. i am scared. so, so scared. tears. i can feel stears. i'm now typing this with my eyes shut. prayer and typing. can't say i've ever tried that before. please excuse any mistakes -0 i'm not looking. i feel like a broken, small, tiny child. oh God, take this away. please take it away. make it go. mercy.

hey mike, *hug*, what's happened? what did louise say? NOMB, I know, but.... stacey: lol!!!

a friend told me to let God break me, and you all told me to let God catch me. i'm doing both. it might be working. tears are good.

Don't be scared, Mike. Keep your expectations lowered and you'll be pleasantly surprised.

God never closes a door without opening a window (i know, a cliche) but it's true, you just gotta move some curtains to find it. God will break you but He will also put you back together. Have you ever heard of a test of faith? And you know the story about the footprints in the sand, right? Don't think He has forgotten you....and yes, tears are good no matter what anybody says!

Open your eyes, Mike. No, not your eyes, but the eyes that SEE. Forget Louise, forget Helen, forget ALL of them. Or don't forget, just let them go - try it for a little while at least. Revived relationships never work anyway - what they did to you once, they will do to you again, and if you were the one doing it to them you will do it again once the novelty wears off; desperation lies in the desire of something that you can't have. That doesn't mean that something is real - it just looks SO GOOD bec use you can't have it. Open your eyes, KEEP them open, look for something new, something fresh. When you find it (her) it will be so so much better. A whole new kiss, a whole new embrace, a whole new mind and body to explore, to grow with - not some old, stretched and half broken strings picked up from a bad ending in the past. You will be new to her and she to you, and that, I think, is the best start, and the best chance a relationship can have. All the problems you've had with the others, and whic made you split up, will just occur all over again, and put you through a hell that you've been through once before already. Why waste precious time like that?

very good advice. i (heart) riette!

Think I'm blushing, because that's a defenite first for me! Thank you, Ray. How is your fiancee? Have you got the annulment yet?

my sweetie and i are doing quite well. we are just financially strapped right now. she is a college professor and decided not to teach this summer due to burnout, and so we are minus her salary for 3 months. it's been ok so far, but the pinch is really starting to get more apparent. thank God for prozac!!!!!!!

You poor things! I don't know why it has to be bits of paper that makes life so difficult, you know?! It's just so perverse somehow, isn't it? You work your butt off to get x amount of little papers so you can live, and when you're too burnt out to work, you burn yourself out worrying about the little papers!! I seriously think that money is about one of the worst inventions ever!

Oh, and I've just noticed that you hit a round number with your response, so that's the lucky thing about your situation. Hope it brings you good luck.

oh i thnk it will! i am an eternal, diehard optimist and i know that all will be well!

and it will! oh, ratthing, while you're out visiting your topics, you think maybe we oughta, like, put the couch on the back burner and open a new couch topic? (i mean it's only got 6 hundred something responses) that may be a lot for someone new to have to sift through.....

oh, yeah! hosts have to do things like that, don't they??? good idea wolfie, consider it done.

i guess it's time for an update on what's happening. i've just read through the last seven days of postings here, which starts, incidentally at 53. That's 82 postings in seven days, an average of (blurble, whirr) 11.7 or so per day, I think. i'm not sure how many people realised, but the first time I've been able to feel any emotion was just the other day. right when i was posting, which was a bonus for the drama-stats ;) no, it's easy to be flippant, but not right. reading through all of the postings, i feel completely light headed. all of you have shared a massive part of me, and have been here, right with me, right while it's happening. that's never happened to me before. to have people sharing in the creations of my brain is a total first. i am starting to feel better, which i'm sure you'll all be happy to know. i off-loaded a whole lot of stuff on Monday night. it was quite something. but i still have a way to go. i'm worried that i've just buried some stuff under the carpet again, like has happened in the past. but i'm trying not to let that be the case. i'm confronting a lot of the things that upset me; when a thought comes to me that could be upsetting, i sit down and take it apart, or just let it sit there and throb for a while. i'm not hiding from things any more, and i'm feeling healthier for it. but i'm not cured, i don't think. whether i ever will be is an interesting question. i will keep posting here, whether things are going good or going bad; i owe so much to this particular text input box that it would be terrible for me to desert it now. thank you all for what you have done, and for what i hope you will help to do.

Really glad to hear you're feeling a bit better. Thank you for trusting us enough to share your problems. It let's us know that we can share ours with you too when and if it happens. You are a very, very nice person.

that's really cool, mike... (and your brain is a pretty interesting place... what you wrote affected me- everyone that read it, i'm sure- a great deal... and it was an honor, you know?)

mike: *hug* ratthing: thanks!

thanks nick, but you're a little off the mark ;) my brain is a fucked-up place :))

Everybody's is at some time or another, heck, just look at wer (kidding! I am kidding!) Nothing changes overnight but the process will take place and you'll put some of these dark moments behind you. moving to a new place is a good way to start.

LOL!!!

Hey, Mikey, here's a face for you to make when you're feeling down or angry . . . >: ( Like the frown?

i do.....

i know there's something floating out there with all the little character faces, anybody else seen it?

No, but if you see one with a BIG BIG frown, put it here, then everyone will know exactly what I look like after today. I have just had the most incredibly unlucky day today. One disaster after the other. First I somehow managed to break my e-mail. Fine. Then my best friend went on holiday for three weeks, and I'm going to miss her like hell. Fine too. Then I go shopping. As I walk into my kitchen to pack the groceries away, the Coke bottle drops out of my clumsy hands, and explodes all over the place. I wash the entire damned kitchen, but EVERYTHING, just everything is still sticky. So I don't know what to do. Then I decide to make cold tomato and cucumber soup for dinner, because it's so easy to make, nothing can go wrong there, right? Wrong. Here I am, 19:40 in the evening, a ghastly trip to hospital with two very upset kids later, and a right forefinger more or less savaged in the vegetable cutter. It throbs, I feel bloody (ha-ha! at that bit of irony) sorry for myself, and I can't cry, because I don't want Chris to think me a baby. I'm such a moron. BLEEEEUUUUGH! �sticking tongue out at myself while mimicking vomiting noises�

ouch. Perhaps peanut bitter and jelly for dinner (prepared with dull butter knives of course) tonight!

butter... that was supposed to read butter... not bitter. oops.

DAMN! Thought you were talking about a new kind of beer! Peanut beer . . . imagine!!! yum-yum! oh, And ha-ha! Nothing like a bit of dry humor to cheer one up!

peanut beer... interesting there is surely a market for it in the states... if it doesn't exist already. perhaps a substitute to the old baseball faves roasted peanuts and a cheap beer you could just brew the peanut flavor right in and charge 4x the price.

Let's patent it - we could ask our very own chef to help us! How is school?

school is great! I took the kids on a scavanger hunt today... Find something green, something white, something pointy, something soft, something pretty, something wet, something alive (and so on) you cannot imagine how many poor insects were roused from their happy homes today! Tomorrow we are taking a trip to the firestation!

sorry about your finger, riette. it sounds horrid :( your day stacey, sounded lovely :)

i'm sorry about your terrible day, riette. stacey: you teach in a year round school? (what happened to summer vacation?)

Man, what a rough day Riette! How's that finger coming along. Is it functioning ok?

guess she's not having the probs mike was, she must be pretty good at hunt and peck cuz she's not saying a thing about it! *kisses* for the booboo, riette, no, not because it's bloody, us canines have healing tongues, don't you know!

You're a shell user now, wolfie.

GET AWAY FROM MY FINGER, it's been through enough, and no, not functioning at all, and too painful to paint, and so I'm feeling a little cranky. �growl� No, thanks guys for the concern - apart from the finger I'm just fine. Going to the merry-go-around again tomorrow, so I'll just wash this day right outta my hair. Takes alot more than that to get me depressed! Stacey, glad you had such a lovely day. You have a great job.

I'm teaching Extended School Year (ESY) a six-week summer special education program. My summer vacation will begin (and end) in August!

stacey: yes, but it's rewarding, i'll bet. terry: i don't understand the shell reference (got your email btw) riette: ok, i'll leave it alone (which one did you hurt?)

Riette, sorry to hear about the finger. Did you clean up that Coke yet? Had dinner last night at a microbrewery, featuring--you guessed it--a nut brewed ale called "Geronimo" for some arcane reason.

was Geronimo a nutcase, perhaps? you had dinner at a brewery? what'd you eat? peanuts?

possibly closer to a brew pub...

Beer cheese soup (fabulous) and a powerhouse sandwich. I don't even know for a fact that they use peanuts to make the beer; perhaps they use hazelnuts, or cashews, even! I associate nuts with George Washington Carver, not Geronimo. But then again, maybe I'm nuts!

Wow! Wee! Pssshh! No, you're not very nuts, Autumn. �smile�

i'm in more pieces than i thought imaginable. i feel worthless. unable to go on. i'm a failure. in everybody and anybody's eyes. i'm nothing. might as well surrender my cubic metre or so. i'm a broken, broken man. human. thing. i think that whatever it is that wants to break me has finally done so. i can't go any further. give any more. that's all i'm capable of. there's only so many times i can pick my self off the floor and dust myself down. i've just got no more inside of me. and i dont' even care. it's almost relief. relief together with the terrible knowledge of what i must do. i am just not capable of going on. i can't. i'm busted. busted, broken, trashed, smashed, eve ything. there's nothing to describe it. nothing to describe the way i feel inside. the weird feeling i've got in my legs. i'm so sad. so sad for how i will hurt people with relieving myself of this pain. i just don't see a way out from here. or any other way out. i haven't got it inside of me to even pull myself back up one last time. i haven't. i can't. i'm sorry

i wish one of you were here now. just here, logged on would do. in my room, even better. there are tears. i'm in pain. lots of pain. it hurts so much. i don't know what hurts, but it does. i don't know how to make you understand how un-melodramatic this is for me. i wish i was making it up. how i wish i was. how can i get out of this? out of myself? i'm so scared, so afraid. not of being mad any more, but of just being here. i can't cope. i'm way beyond that pont, i think. i'm out on the edge, crazy as a crazy person. i'm going round the twist, in public. it hurts so mch

what do you mean by re: so sad for how i will hurt people with relieving myself of this pain. ?

every car that came past me on the way home this evening, i had to force myself not to just step in front of it, because of how much i would screw up other people. so many times i've had to grab myself, and *not* just wade out into the sea from the beach. i would so like to be free of myself.

i'm sorry. i don't feel like i should be sharing this even here. somehow i attach responsibility for myself on to all of you, which is wrong. i wish i knew what was going on in my head.

you feel lost. i've been there. you have a will to live, that's why you didn't step out in front of the traffic. what is it that you want? i mean, what would it resolve? you don't know the value of your own life. God didn't give it to you so you could take it away. It's his gift. anyway, am not gonna preach. just talk to us. don't ever stop talking. i used to think that i wanted to be gone too. but figured out that dead wasn't what it was that i wanted. and because i couldn't handle the thoughts, i broke out in panic attacks a lot. i never want to feel that way again. all i knew was that i wanted things different and that everything scared me. i had to learn that it wasn't my responsibility for how other people feel. you see, i grew up in a house that wasn't happy on the inside (isn't that the 90's thing, you know). but it truly wasn't. so i became codependent to my parents. i took on control of their feelings (or so i had thought to myself) so if i took the blame for everything, it would be ok. hell, i would think that the police sirens down the street were coming for me (wild thoughts, i admit, but it did flash before me). and then, with a lot of time and a lot of support-not from my husband, i figured out that i am a human being who has needs. and i learned something called the ABC module. i know it sounds so corny, but it works for me. it goes something like this. A: the situation B: the awfulizing-what do you think might happen? C: what is more realistic? and is that so terrible for example: A: i broke up with my girlfriend B: oh my god, i'm gonna be killed C: probably not go out with anyone for awhile.

A: I feel like my mother deserted me when i was younger, and have had problems relating to anyone since then. i have projected mother-substitutes onto all of the women i've ever *met*, let alone gone out with, which has ruined every relationship i've ever had, and left me with a huge gaping hole in my life, not to mention a massive perfectionist streak which eats up everything i do with guilt and self-deprecation. B: I could go fucking mad C: i could go out of my tree

so is she responsible for you now? or are you responsible for your own happiness? i ask this, because my mother was cold as ice and my father, well, that's for another time. my mother, after revealing some terrible thing,

A: mom was not emotionally available. B: i can never relate to anyone ever again C: i can learn how to make myself happy

mine a: mom was not emotionally available b: i will be just like her and that is that c: i can learn from that and try not to make the same mistakes i chose c, because i knew what i didn't want to be, so now my children get lots of hugs and kisses and are told everyday that i love them no matter how rotten they're being or how rotten i'm being.

it's not about me being responsible for making myself happy. i've been trying that for however many years now. what is happening to me now is the result of years and years of trying to make myself happy by locking away the stuff that has happened in the past. except it's just not working any more. it leaks out in bigger and bigger quantities all the time.

ok, monster in the closet. he's not so scary, you know. i did that too. stuffed all the bad stuff in a closet and kept my front. but pretty soon it did start leaking out. so i let the whole thing come out and you know what? it was only 1 inch tall so i squished it. yeah, there are side effects, people aren't gonna be happy, especially if the monster has something to do with them. we have a way of making things seem worse. like the monster. we think, when that thing gets out, it's gonna eat New York, but when you step back and look at it, well, it's a little lizard. work with me, i know what i'm trying to say. it's like the things you're scared of, you make them bigger in your mind, but when you face them, they're really not so bad. you'll feel so much better when you unlock the closet door. no, not right away. give yourself time and plenty of room. don't worry about the "supposed to's". who's normal? we all have our own way of dealing with things. i let my monster out and my parents are now off of the pedestal and are human. have i forgiven them, yes, have they forgiven me, hmm, i dunno....but forgiveness is for the forgiver. oh, and if you're not happy yet, it's because you think your making yourself happy. it's not gonna be bliss right away, and you will slide back, but that's ok. tell me, what does your monster look like? why do you feel deserted?

i feel deserted because i was deserted. my mother and father split when i was 2 years old. then she got together with a man who hated me and my brother and sister, and forced the two of them out of the house in due course. 7 years of psychological torture, basically. seven years of being hated beyond what i thought anyone was capable of. and hated by a cold, calculating, brutal person, not some raving nutter with an axe, but someone with a real knowledge of how to make a person feel perfectly shitty bout themselves. and this person is the one my mother married, and supported, and turned a blind eye to, even when he started to force my sister out of home, just as he'd done successfully with my brother. then he goes to prison. my mother and i fight like crazy. i go through probably the best and worse five months of my life. he is not around, which is glorious relief, but she constantly yearns for hiim, and i live with the knowledge that he will be back. he comes back. nothing is different. we move to a tiny (and i mean tiny) village in lincolnshire. back of beyond. all the people have eight toes and three legs because of the inter-breeding - literally. we buy a public house. my mother slips straight back into her alcoholic tendencies whic she has had for years. i'm used to this by now, it's no big deal. and the nightly rows. the crying. the slamming of doors. all of this is present and accounted for, all above board and ship-shape. ay captain then in notice that neither of them are sleeping in their bed at night. i just presume that they're both pissed up and fighting downstairs, even when it's silent. this goes on for some weeks, some months...can't remember how long. long enough to start scaring me. then i find out. she's having an affair and has been leaving the house every night for the last x weeks/months. leaving me there, with him, alone. cheers. by the age of eleven, i am ordering my own shopping, making my own dinner and worrying about how i'm going to get the stuff for my cooking project at school. all things that i presumed that mums should take care of. all things that my friends mothers all took care of. the way my mother would never, ever, stick up for me. if something happened, and someone complained about me, then i fucking got it, i really did. didn't matter if i was guilty or not, she fucking gave it to me. from years and years ago, i remember her smacking me in the head. i can't remember why, or what about or anything, just the site of her smacking me in the head. cheers again. not that i was physically abused. that just came to mind, and i'm streaming here. and so we move out of the pub, and into the house of her new bloke. who is actually a good man. life gradually improves, but by this time i think it's all well in motion anyway. i am scarred. i wet the bed constantly until i'm about 14 or 15. i have nightmares. i have attitude problems and relationship "difficulties?". do you remember me saying about the dream i died in? it was the first step-father who shot me. unbelievable that was. i think that stream is over.

i understand the problems you were having. i mean, i understand why. what did your mother do? (with the stress-related stuff in your new home) i had a dream last night that my father was out to kill me. i was left with a house with all sorts of things in it and i told him it was mine. my mother was on my side (concerning the exploitation of me) and was trying to help me get to a lawyer so i could finally have the man arrested. time was short. i woke up before it was resolved. it has been awhile since i had nightmares about my parents. but usually both of them were out to get me. think looking through some old photo albums and seeing his eyes is what did it. they're still married. she still believes him and not her daughter (she's in denial, and who wouldn't be).

listen, mike, you hang in there. i'm so sleepy, can't keep my eyeballs open anymore (and the toothpicks keep falling out). listen, i'm here, even if you just blab, send a post or something. but only if you feel safe (do you know what i mean?) *big wolfie hug* and a *kiss* on your forehead (no teeth or slobber!)

Mike, Wolf, the things I have read here this morning has made me angry once more. Our parents, they fuck us up, that's the truth of it. Mike, if you should kill yourself, they will have won. Never, never, never let that happen. You feel worthless - they have conditioned you to do so. You feel broken - they have tried to break you, because your goodness made them feel like the trash they are. You feel sad - they want you to feel that, because it means that you are still dependent on them, however perverse and crazy that may sound to the rational ear. You feel haunted - they will do that for as long as you are broken, because they want to pull you down into their pathetic abyss, and say, look, he is no better than us, he is a tosser too, IQ of 147 or not. You feel you can't go on - they would love for you not to go on, for they cannot bear to see how you are fighting for your soul. You feel you are a failure - they want you to fail, nothing would please them more. I could go on, but if I did, I'd never stop again. Mike, I cannot tell you how to make it better - we all have to do it our own way, what worked for me might make you even more miserable. But I do want to tell you that you musn't be ashamed. You are not guilty. They are. You MUST be selfish. You MUST perservere. And whatever you do, DON'T let them know how they have made you feel, NEVER. Don't give them that satisfaction. Fight them and break them as they have tried to break you. Hate them as much as you want - they deserve it. The crappiest thing about parents is that they think they have some autonomous sort of RIGHT, some claim on their children. That is why they don't care if they screw up. How can one care about something you take for granted anyway? They think their children 'owe' them something for putting them into this sick and miserable world - pathetic, isn't it? But I tell you Mike, you do not belong TO them as my children do not belong to me. Our children are people who are lent to us for a few years by God. Whether they will ever truly belong to us, depends entirely upon how we treat them, whether we make them feel they WANT to belong with us or not. They too have a choice in the matter, and YOU have a choice right now. Your parents did not 'adopt' you like that, they never appreciated the gift of children, they don't deserve your loyalty or your love or your guilt or anything at all. Don't you forget that, and don't let THEM forget that.

right on, riette. (children are gifts, too bad some people don't take care of the most precious ones they have) mike, i don't hate my parents, what would that accomplish? does it hurt them? no, but it sure hurts me. so what's the point in that? your parents may have left you wanting, but look what's happened now. God gave you all of us, and we're all in your corner. *hug* be the person that you are and the rest will fall into place!

i certainly don't hate either of my parents for the way i've turned out. i don't even "blame" them, since there is no blame to be apportioned. They are responsible, either wholly or partly, but they are not to blame. but i need to sort this thing out. these things out. i'm messed up, and not likely to get better without some real sorting. it's weird how nervous i get every time i click on this topic, now that i've told you all what it's really about. nobody knows except all of you.

then you should feel at home. we're not here to judge you or lay our opinions on you. we just want to help you sort through the stuff. yes, i believe we are a' product of our environments. but we CAN change the way we are now. so sort away (and i'm glad that you are able to recognize that, i mean, to admit to it)

i think i would like to move this to a private conference. i'm not too happy with all and sundry checking in on my life. i'll sort it out with terry.

Would we still be able to talk there? Because I would miss you.

oh yeah. all of the people here would be invited. it's just to keep things a bit more private between us. i think i would be happier that way.

I understand. And I'm glad we'd still be allowed there.

Ugh, since Chris has stopped talking to me, my English is getting worse by the day. Wish he'd get over his birthday now. �SIGH�

take him go-karting :) give him to me to talk to - i'm feeling old :)

Can't take him go-karting. He IS old! It sometimes scares me.

take him go karting. how old is he?

50

definitely take him then :)

Took him to the merry-go-around yesterday - he hated it. So I went on my own in the evening, stiff arm and finger and all, and then he was very angry with me for staying out too late and walking back home instead of taking a taxi. When he is in this black, sullen mood I am unable to do anything right. Yet tonight he came into the bathroom, scrubbed my back, dried my hair and made love to me without a word - still, I understood. The mood is wearing off, and he is sorry for being angry. He is a strange creature - I love him.

i could do with a bit of that TLC stuff :)

I know, Mike. I find it a shame that we are all such good friends here, yet we can't hug a person when they need it. It makes all the difference in the world to me.

yes, but we can virtually hug so here ya go *big bear hug* oops! make that *big wolf hug* never mind my teeth, sweetie!

Hey, we're coming up to 200 here! Damn, just missing it - oh well, make a wish, whoever hits it! Don't wolves sort of bite to show affection? Or is that sharks?

sharks, IF they're capable. wolves lay around on each other and stuff. the teeth stuff is left for the really serious business of putting something straight!