Wednesday 5 July 2006

Betterment.

I've had so many requests for updates, I'll bring you up to speed on things.

First off, solo counseling is going well for me at last. Claus is a miracle worker and I get more out of my sessions with him than I ever thought possible. Onward and upward, Bridget. He thinks I'm doing well. I'm not bottling it up. In fact, I'm shaking it up and spraying it over the crowd like champagne at a boat launching. Well, that's my take on it, anyway. Would you believe I'm not nearly as fucked up as I thought I might be? I really thought I was a loose cannon, out of control emotionally but I have come to learn this is the best news ever. I'm a model patient. Take that, naysayers!

The kids go and see a children's counselor twice a month and are doing well. They play puppet shows and draw pictures and it's very light fare that will end when school starts. Ruth and Henry have a resiliency that I wish I posessed sometimes. We're parenting responsibly and the whole attack and changing teams (so to speak) has had a minimal impact. Thank GOD.

Jacob is doing well too. I didn't tell you he went for help too. His counselor tells me his progress is outstanding. Jake says he's learning how to deal with his residual feelings of helplessness and more importantly he's learning how to express anger efficiently and manage stress better. This man is a self-improvement machine. Maybe it helps that he is generally laid back as it is.

And oh yes, couples counseling. Because there's nothing like starting over from scratch when you have a decade of dysfunctional history under your belt and we're going to make sure we have everything we need and then some to make this work now, and in the future. Even couples who are head-over-heels in love have things they need to work through. Like not dropping arguments in the middle and other assorted leftover interactive bad habits we've acquired over the past ten years of holding each other at arms' length. Together we're profoundly beautiful and completely fucked up. But It's fixable. Very fixable. We'll make it right because we both want it so bad.

Momentum. Something you need when you're being dragged down on all other sides.

I can't really write updates about Cole. In part because I don't want to, and also because I was instructed not to because I might write something that makes me appear vindictive (! More. Swearing.) in the eyes of the court. Suffice it to say he's playing every card he has left. When we finally consented to the paternity testing earlier this week we were suprised to find out they actually wanted to test not only Henry but Ruth too. (Can you hear me swearing in my head? Because I am and it's loud.) So all four of us had cheek swabs taken and they had taken Cole's already and on Monday or Tuesday we'll get the results so stay tuned.

Physically I am a-okay. No more sling, no more wrapped torso. No visible bumps. My elbow gets sore after painting or sleeping on my arm but it's not so bad. I can move again and that's huge. I can pick Henry up without cringing or grinding. I healed very well and my doctor is very proud of me. Now I only have to fight the crushing fatigue, which overtakes me at the strangest times but that's the medication. They can only adjust it so much and then it does nothing. I have to live with it for now.

So there you go. The entire remainder of this year will be a whirlwind and we're living it one hour at a time. Momentum.

    I am just a worthless liar. I am just an imbecile.
    I will only complicate you. Trust in me and fall as well.
    I will find a center in you. I will chew it up and leave.
    I will work to elevate you, just enough to bring you down.

    Mother mary, won't you whisper? Something but the past is done.

    Why cant we not be sober? I just want to start this over.
    Why cant we sleep forever? I just want to start this over.