Kids camp

Since moving to Edmonton I haven’t played the same roles I used to. At home I was a camp everything.  Over the years I had fulfilled most jobs and would spend weeks out at the camp my church owned just living the dream. That is if your dream involves being surrounded by groups of 30 kids in 30 degree Celsius weather. Fortunately for me this year I am involved in a VBS program. Vacation bible school for those who don’t know is a day camp hosted by church’s where the goal is to explore and learn about God.

I’m super pumped. I got a preschool group of 5 and I’m going to have the best time ever with them. This is a guarantee! I miss kids something fierce most days. I can’t wait to have some in my life but I have other plans first. Like getting a teaching degree to support some joy bundles.

It’s currently 3 am. My husband woke me up when he LOUDLY put down his water bottle. So now I’ve got to eat and put myself to bed again. This is another reason I’m not quite ready for babies but am so ready for a day camp. I hate being woken up. It’s a major pet peeve. I think it’s one of the most unnecessary things to ever happen. Especially in the middle of the night!

Well, I’ll keep you all updated about my kiddos and I love you lots!

Ange

Ambivalent

I remember hearing the word ambivalent in high school and finding myself obsessed with it. I love language and to have a word capture what I felt was everything I needed. Ambivalence is mixed feelings or ideas towards a person of thing, sometimes/usually in conflict. What a word to perfectly sum up people.

I wanna talk about a few things I’m still mulling over!

Ending things with a friend. I’ve talked a lot about them because even now they occupy a huge space in my heart. Simultaneously I love and dislike/am still angry/hurt by them. I want and don’t want them, I push and pull. Mostly I am melancholy and cry easily when they are brought up.

I’m felling ambivalent about my recent weight gain. I tried on my jeans since classes start in September. I thought I should know if they fit and whaddya know! they don’t come up past midthigh! I’ve bought the same size and brand of jeans for 4 years so it was shocking that they suddenly didn’t fit. I’m happy I have finally been able to put on weight, it’s sorta always been a goal. Keeping it on has been a different experience. It’s not gone away, so I’m living with increased size that no one notices but me. I used to have a 24″ waist and now I’m a soft 27″, and unbeknownst to me my thighs have pretty well doubled. In summer I wear jammies and dresses so nothing has to cradle them but now I have no pants that fit. See what I mean?! It’s hard to just accept this newness because it has disrupted my normalcy and sense of self. But I also don’t want to lose the weight. I quite like being able to sleep through the night without getting up to eat or getting sick each morning.

To top it all off I’ve never had to monitor or limit myself with foods or treats and now I’m fearful that this is an inhibited growth that will never end. So I’m questioning everything in my life still and just feeling kinda down.

And I can’t remember if I mentioned or not but a few weeks ago I was super down and wishing my friend would reach out to say “I still care too” and somehow they did. In their own way I feel they let me know. But then I had a panic attack because I had ended things and oh god it was the end of the world!!! Haha, but seriously. It was a great and terrible thing that uplifted and crushed me.

I’m seeing a new counselor tonight. Boy Wonder and I had another explosive argument that ended when he told me I had too much baggage and that he wasn’t talking to me until I saw a professional. I asked him to go to and he refused. After a few days I decided to move myself into the spare room. I feel like it’s reasonable to ask him to see a counselor if he demands it of me and so for the time being I guess we’re gonna be more distant. I think that’s a bad idea, but I also have no intention of giving in without reciprocity.

-Love, Ange!

All the flavours

I love baked goods. I love them in way that makes my toes wiggle and soft purrs come out of as I eat them. I’m serious about that – it irritates my sister to no end. I recently bought meringue powder, almond flour, and concentrated flavourings of rootbeer, wintergreen (oh sweet heavens it smells great), and crème de menthe. These weren’t the flavours I was seeking out. My desire it to create bubblegum cupcakes this summer. Pink with blue icing and gum balls on top. I imagine they’d be to die for!

I do heaps of baking. A good friend of mine is getting married in September and asked if I could make cookies. Of course! So I set out testing various chai sugar cookie recipes. I wanted  sugar cookies so I could cut and roll them. That is easily my favourite part of baking aside from icing. I’ll be making 100 pumpkin shaped chai sugar cookies for her special day. It makes me heart sing.  I also started exploring the street I live on. It’s fair;y busy and full of bizarre shops. I do mean bizarre. It’s been gentrified so older places or non-white establishments look decrepit which completely sucks! I have mixed feelings about gentrifying. It’s a complicated thing to run a city, but the point of this story is the bakery I found.

It’s website advertised goods made from fresh ingredients with actual French pastry making knowledge. I’ve found in the years I started baking my standards shot through the roof. I barely eat anything from a grocer anymore (I know, such a snob!). we  waled there this morning and I was immediately blown away. I bought just about one of everything. I adore baked goods.

And now for tangential joy I’ve had!

I dyed my hair red. It started as a test strand for when I cosplay as Poison Ivy (TBA) and quickly became “Oh wow look how pretty this is!”. Since then I’ve been putting on make up and curling my hair each day to look more like Poison Ivy. I’ve shocked a few friends.

My sister called this morning to ask me how to make icing. This made me laugh because I joked with mum about it yesterday. I called her and she sounded annoyed so I joked that she shouldn’t be annoyed with her only child who calls to socialize and that my sister only calls for help cooking. I swear she has called me 3 times to ask how to boil an egg. Thus, having her call about the icing was perfect. I use a real simple recipe. It’s fail proof too. 1/2 cup of butter, add 1/2 cups of icing sugar until 2 cups total, with a tsp of vanilla. While on the phone she told me she didn’t need the icing anymore and asked what to do with it which I just laughed at because she hadn’t mixed anything. She had only beat the butter… I mean seriously kiddo, toss it in the fridge.

So that’s all for now. hope you are having a super fantabulous day as well!

Love, Ange

Long nights are the worst

With finishing the basement our everywhere upstairs living space is crammed. Our kitchen table hasn’t been clean since we set it up and everything is always getting moved. I cleared off a chair in the basement to have some space. Another messy fight occurred the details of which I don’t want to get into. I’m getting pretty tired of being sad.

This morning the pastor at the church I attend was talking about milestones and celebration. all the times it happened biblically and the significance. I liked his question of “how do you mark milestones?” Honestly? I get tattoos it seems. I currently have three! When I was 18 I got hitsuzen tattooed on my left wrist. It was in a manga I read and was since as the driving force of everything – y’know since it means fate/inevitability/plot. I do believe in that type of phenomena though at the time I attributed it to a sovereign God. In the 4 years since that tattoo I’ve gotten more complex about it, but basic principles still apply. The second tattoo was my husband’s name across my ribs. Talk about a bad idea – just kidding, I live with no regrets. I want to always accept and understand the younger me who held those values. I also got that at 18. (I was married at 19.)

Fast forward to this past February when I got the Green Lantern ring tattooed in place of my wedding band. In a few short weeks I’ll be getting “doubt inquiry truth” tattooed on my right wrist. I’ve mentioned the meaning behind it but for those who don’t know! An old religious scholar felt the church needed to allow people their doubts so he wrote several volumes of questions Christians should ask themselves. His beliefs can neatly be summed up that if we believe God is truth all inquiry leads to God, and therefore all doubts are fine.

The more I’ve matured and messed up the more I want to believe in that. I want to believe in a destiny we can choose or defy, to have a driving force either way guiding us to truth. To commonality.

The markers of great change, joy, grief or major change are all laid out on my body. I like it that way. I have an unorthodox approach to objects and their aliveness and tattoos are like this mashup of literal embodiment. A concept which fascinates me. I could talk endlessly about it.

As always! I love you from the bottom of my heart.

Ange Kid.

Self reflection on love and fighting

Boy Wonder stormed out of the house a few minutes ago. We are fighting. We fight a lot, and usually about nothing (things that straight up don’t matter) and he always chooses to isolate whereas I prefer to escalate or extinguish my rage. I’d say we are emotionally mismatched. I’m volatile and dynamic while my husband maintains a near constant state with notable outbursts when it’s too much. I’m always in flux so I’m not bothered by it, but it’s hard for him to keep up and vice versa. That statue-like emotional state drives me insane. Any lack of emotional expression is torturous to me.

When things are too much I find out because he’ll suddenly start yelling, name calling, and swearing at me. Sometimes he breaks my things, but I once threw a pot of soup off a deck because we were fighting. (That’s comic relief, there isn’t any justification of violence or aggression) These incidents have to get pretty intense to scare. I’ve experienced worse. And I guess that’s what I want to talk about.

I want someone to value my emotionally explosive nature seeing the opposite but equal response is my highly absorptive quality.

My parents divorced just after my sister was born, before I can even remember them being together. I have abandonment issues but that isn’t unusual for children of divorce (or girls in general – that I’ve met at least). My dad was my hero but he was also a substance abuser. He was in my life on and off. Follow this into counselling and I’ve had counselors describe me with terms like “resilient child” and “ambivalent attachment”. I find them fanciful and encouraging regardless of their validity. I want to use labels to help me to find a way out of that particular box. I think if I can identify the qualities and master them then I’ll be fine.

The blursing (blessing/curse) of resiliency has generated indestructible relationships that I’m constantly putting at risk, AND a tendency for abusive relationships. I love deeply and intensely believing my relationships are indestructible. So I get taken advantage of. Emotionally controlling people fall for me and I for the because of the thrill. I’m determined to love the worst in people but don’t want to be loved the same way. That’s the insecure attachment I have. (look up forms of attachment. they’re so cool)

As for the ambivalence (maybe not the best word), I’ve understood it as my ebb and flow but rooted in insecurity. I adore the people I love, but feel uncomfortable with their love at a certain point of closeness. I want to be adored and worshiped for surface qualities. Love me immediately forever. So long as their love is surface love it can’t break through the impenetrable shield protecting my heart! The harder people try to get deep in love with me the more I back off or become enraged or disgusted. It’s hard. I want love but I want it far off and only on my terms. And MAYBE! none of this is true. Maybe this  a normal experience of loving. I don’t know. I just know that I have a hard time with sincerity. I get blindsided believing I’m friends with people who actually don’t like me, or I’m trapped in manipulative relationship. I’m determined to love even if it means falling on my own sword unless I really feel loved – then stay away from me.

High intensity mixed with emotional baggage of wanting but not feeling happy/worthy(?)/wanting of love I am a puzzle. But so are you… right?

As for this morning, We fought about drywall. We are finishing the basement and I told Boy Wonder I don’t want to work together if (then he interrupted, very upset I was rejecting him) “IF” I SAID! if he wants to do it “his way”. I don’t like working together because the potential judgement and correction. Don’t tell me I’m wrong. Just fix it. So then he said he doesn’t want me to do it at all and put in headphones. I told him I was feeling hurt and I wanted him to care, so he left the room. I waited a few minutes and followed telling him I was hurt and wanted him to choose to stop hurting me. Then he repeatedly slammed a door in my face (our door doesn’t latch shut so it’s easy to repeatedly slam if your wife pushes it back open to talk to you.). Finally, he stood with his back against it and I told him to leave. I asked him not to come back. I also asked him not to drink. That’s a whole other bag of trauma hahahaha.

Sorry if this was more than you were looking for but, guys, I gotta have someone in my corner understanding me.

Love always, Ange.

House keeping

I had a prof who’d start classes by going through “house keeping”. All it was was details we may have missed, forgotten, or she wanted to highlight. I’ve got some house keeping to do before I write about something coherent.

  • We have finally moved everything into the house and are beginning home renos soon.
  • I have begun painting the bathrooms and will begin on bedrooms in a matter of days.
  • I bought a pottery wheel and have not used it yet because of the lack of electricity in the basement.
  • My neighbours have a baby and they let me hold him whenever they see me.

I haven’t written in a month and this evening I was inspired to write after reading one of Kendall’s posts (she is the only person I persistently read.) She talked about the loss of pet and the experience of crying for hours and finding comfort in a journal. I’ve always been bad at keeping journals. I write in them only when I’m at my worst so I don’t find much comfort in them. Even here I tend to be gone for weeks at a time and only come back when i feel something is breaking down in me. I’m not much a rest-er or relaxer. I’m a real go-getter but today I’m reminded of how profound an effect grief can have.

It’s been two months since I ended one of the most meaningful relationships I’ve had in Edmonton. I can’t think of clear way of saying it or a title I feel comfortable ascribing this person. I loved (love still?) this person, but I let go and it haunts me. It breaks my heart and everyday. Did I make the right choice? I’m really bothered by my inability to just pick up the pep and keep going. I’ve never experienced a grief like this which is the largest contributor to my doubt.

I need more time to heal from the damage in the relationship, but truthfully I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t think they want to be in my life because I ended the relationship. Or because I haven’t been my best with them. I wish I had been more forward and honest. I want them to understand and still love me and to do anything to just let me know “I still care too.” But I don’t think they will.

My journal provides little comfort as it lists the reasons why I ended the relationship, but also when and why I would resume it. A pattern of unhappiness emerges that I don’t think was escapable.

On a much brighter note I have gained and kept on 7 pounds! I’m a happy 124 pounds. It feels good but I have had a hard time with it as I grew up surrounded by women who constantly dieted and discussed their desire to lose weight. I feel good though! I dance in the house and sing loudly. I’m sleeping through the night and eating happily. I’m not controlled by my anxiety for the moment, but I do really want to find a means of dissociating sensations of hunger and physical pain, along with low blood sugar and the friend I lost (one of the pivotal moments in our friendship involved going for alcohol, me not having supper, walking to get sugary items, and going home feeling really shitty).

I’d like to regain more control but I also wonder if that’s part of the issue. I grew up hearing things like “let go, let God.” and as much as I’ve tried to practice that I don’t feel I have the patience.

Thanks for listening to my woe as I wait to bounce back!

Ange Kid.

Settle in

Just when I thought the house was unpacked my in-laws brought a heap of my husband’s things from their basement. The worst part of this was that much of what they brought had been boxes of items to donate. Now it’s here waiting to be taken away again. I feel bad because his parents had to rent a trailer. I feel annoyed that it’s here.

I’ve been lazing about and having productive days in between. Emotionally things are still unbalanced. When I’m feeling good Boy Wonder is down, and it doesn’t seem to have an end in sight. Moving on is hard. I feel our move to a new home is poetic. Moving out, up, away, on… there are some manys different movements simultaneously coordinating to create a safe and loving space. I’ve become pretty melancholic. A small voice in my mind asks if this is permanent. It wonders if maybe the melancholy is in exchange for my body feeling relief.

I continue to be overwhelmed.

By everything.

There is no space here.

Only boxes everywhere. I’m afraid of making a mistake, being wrong, finding out I could have done something different to avoid “this”. My weakness as a Green Lantern is showing. Fear. Being afraid instead of being bold because I blame myself for the pain around me. I’m scared I can’t be better. Scared that my choices have all been wrong. I’m bothered that I haven’t been consistent.

I wonder what a younger me would have thought.

I wonder what an older me will think.

How does one take comfort in living? (I’m not suggesting death in opposition, but questioning the place of discomfort in the everyday.)

When I talk with my friends they ask if I’m still making art. I graduated in April. I have moved since then. I come up with excuses and reasons instead of boldly saying “No. I need(ed) time. I broke my heart, threw my entire emotional balance out of order, broke my husband’s heart, moved to a new home, and haven’t unpacked any of it yet.” I’ve started self isolating again – even from my blog. I just want to give myself a big hug and say “Hey kiddo. Just be Ange. Be all those things you aspire to be.” and maybe add “Don’t be scared.”

People have invited me/suggested I go to a performance workshop, but I’m not in a space to do that. I’ve always done performance selfishly. It’s about my need to communicate. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to be rebuked or whatever. I want to be wrapped up in an unparalleled softness.

-Talk to you again sooner than later, Ange Kid.

Much needed follow up!

Yesterday was a dark day. I thought I should follow up promptly. I slept for 14 hours straight. No waking up to panic or think about being hungry. I just slept. Before bed I was panicking to the point of freaking out my darling husband. So we went online.

I did some autogenic training (AT) which is form of deep relaxation to help rebalance the body’s fight or flight. I have an exaggerated and overactive fight or flight response. I experience stronger feelings for  longer time. The technique I used was to repeat phrases to myself. “My left arm is heavy, my right arm is heavy. Both of my arms are heavy.” Do the same for legs, then replace heavy for warm, talk about your heart and your breathing as calm and regular. It works for me. As I was doing it I remembered doing it as a wee little lass in counselling. I can’t believe I forgot about it!

Boy Wonder then did some guided meditation with me because no matter what I did I couldn’t escape the stomach pains. This one involved visualizing walking down stairs and finding peace at the bottom. When you got nervous you let yourself feel it and focused on breathing. The combined efforts of these types of exercises is to relearn that the sensation of fear doesn’t equal immediate or physical harm.

I’ll be practicing them in the coming days to keep myself managed, but there is a lot of emotional damage my husband and I have to work through. I was able to find a new counsellor in the city where I live. I’m hoping things go better this time around.

Thank you everyone for being here for me. It’s a long road ahead. If you are in need of encouragement listen to Steve Aoki and Louis Tomlinson’s “Just Hold On”. I woke up to a text from my husband suggesting I listen to this. I felt understood.

Love always, Ange

Managing my anxiety and panic

Last night was probably the worst night I’ve had in the last year. I had to sleep on the floor again. I sleep on the floor in an effort to feel grounded, and because I don’t want to wake my husband while my body trembles uncontrollably. I don’t know why it happens, but when I get anxious, sad, or hungry enough I shake uncontrollably. If I try to stop shaking I have to rock gently instead. To defeat the uncontrollable I have to do a repetitive motion. Nervous tick maybe? I also run my thumbs over my finger nails. Not counting but just flicking them.

Sorry if this is scattered, I’m just writing it out as I think it so that the thoughts disappear. Last night I shook. I tried to drug myself but every 2 hours I was awake feeling sick, hungry, and full! So much tummy trouble. I tried something new last night. Every time I woke up I drank some water and took my blanket somewhere else. I tried sleeping somewhere different every time I woke up. At 5 my husband woke up for work, he had quizzes to mark and I went back to bed. At 6 he came to cuddle me and I managed to sleep uninterrupted until 10:30. It felt so good to sleep.

Why so much stress? Because I’m not the best partner. Over the last year I’ve damaged my relationship with my husband in ways I never thought I could. We’ve started working on it recently and it brings out the stress in me. An overwhelming feeling of failure because I love my husband. He is the most amazing man you’ll ever meet and the guilt and remorse is consuming me. I called a counselling office today and have an appointment for early next week. I’m going to start solo and then go back into couples’ counselling.

Things ended poorly with our last counsellor advising my husband to leave me. I constantly feel that everyone wants him to leave me. I get insecure and panic when he has to leave for work. All that made it hard for me to open up to him because what if he leaves? I’ve given him lots of reasons to. I’m sad.

The best I can do to manage my anxiety and panic lately is to lay on the ground. Just to lay there and remember I’m alive and real.

I’m hoping that counselling will help because I can’t live like this much longer. I’d institutionalize myself. I think I’m going to end this post here because I’m freaking out. There is more I want to tell my husband when I see him but I’m afraid that the more he knows the more likely he is to leave. I sabotaged our relationship repeatedly out of fear and insecurity. Somehow I can’t just open up and be vulnerable with him… sigh…

-Love, Ange.

Moving update

We bought a duplex in the end. It has a lot of space and everything we need. The kitchen is gorgeous and perfect for us! My darling hysband loves to cook and I adore baking. We have all the counter space we could need.

Moving was uneventful, it rained and we got most of it done in the first day. Since that day we’ve been moving slowly. A lot of random bits and pieces and art supplies. Packing, stacking, and, endlessly trying to make this place feel like home.

I’m still getting sick and my doctor up and quit at the clinic where she was. So I have to find a new one, but I was with her because of her work with autism and I was waiting on a referral for ADHD testing. I feel bothered to be left like this and have to start over. I think it’ll work out, but the anxiety is bad. I’m eating all day without ever feeling full and staying in a state of tension. I feel like my body is responding to the emotional tension in my heart. That friend I was hurt by a few weeks ago is no longer in my life. I couldn’t have him affecting me anymore. But the grief over the loss is more than I thought it would be and as much as I needed the release and boundaries of “no more” instead of “not now”. It hurts my heart. Until that is gone I think my body will suffer.

Love, Ange