This morning I had an important thought. If I stop smoking pot now I am going to start cutting frequently. The Ativan is not a choice that works as well. I'm not willing to be on a daily pill, even though I probably should at this point. My mood cycles have been horrible in the last two weeks. Pot levels it all out and makes me cheerful and just barely stupid. I am in a great space to sit and play with Play Doh for hours. I can build with Lego's all day. I'm noticing what things I didn't get Shanna that I probably should have.
I'm enjoying how cuddly and affectionate Calli is... when I'm stoned. When I'm sober it bothers me and I want to get up and walk away. There is something wrong with me. When I am sober it hurts. She bangs her head on me, she scratches, she steps on me awkwardly or knees me or or or or... I kind of hate it. When I am stoned I just mumble, "oooph, gentle with Mommy". I'm so glad to be near her that I don't mind her rough antics. She doesn't mean anything by them. She's just a baby.
My body isn't a good place to be lately. I have to spend a lot of time dissociated if I want to function at all. It's hard. Most of my body hurts most of the time. My stomach hurts terribly from stress, pot also levels that out.
Pot allows me to put aside my grown up concerns and worries and just be present and happy in the moment with my kids. Most of the day is really quite pleasant. I only think about things that are relevant to what is in my line of sight, quite deliberately. That's how I manage to be a good mother. I think only of our immediate house and my kids most of the time. I don't divide my energy well. I can work on house stuff like cleaning with the kids around, but that's the limit. Sometimes they let me read. They hate the computer and mostly I have to be in a different room on a break in order to use it. That's when I smoke pot.
I go think about grown up things for brief periods behind closed doors during the day. That is what having Sarah here gives me. Time to walk away from the kids when my thoughts become intrusive. When I am starting to feel edgy I can ask for a break. I'm trying to have the breaks be as effective sober and they just aren't. My emotions are too intense.
I have ridiculous self-control and ridiculous patience... within small tight boundaries. My kids will grow up being told frankly that I smoke because I need the medicine in the plant and there isn't a better way to get it out for me. Why do I need the medicine? Because of something that was broken when I was a little girl. They won't be broken in that way so they won't need the medicine. It's rather unpleasant to do, so I don't recommend it. Shanna will cheerfully lecture anyone within hearing on how disgusting and unhealthy smoking is. Yay California.
But sober, I'm edgy and raw. I cry a lot. I can't stand to let anyone touch me and when my kids grab me my entire physical reaction is to want to shake them off like a dog. I loathe being touched. It feels like such a disgusting and horrible incursion into my body. Every touch feels bad right now. Everything hurts. The most gentle of caresses feels like a slap. I can mostly dissociate away when sober, but not enough to smile or pretend I am enjoying it.
I don't want my children to grow up with a mother who flinches away from them constantly as if they are terrible people for wanting to touch her. I think I should get stoned instead. It doesn't really matter that I feel bad about doing it. It doesn't matter that the stupid bitch at PAMF looked at me like dirt because I have a medical card. It allows me to be a good mother. I feel so ashamed of myself for needing it. I guess this makes me an addict? Officially? I don't know.
It seems to me that most of life is about walking a series of thin lines. I am more ashamed of cutting than I am of smoking pot. The specific reason I think it is worse is because I will be more strongly judged and censured for cutting. I don't know a lot about tribal cutting, I've never bothered to find out. I can imagine there being places in the world where my desire to cut myself to deal with my emotional experience would be viewed differently. If I were to lose my fear of judgment, I would be able to represent myself in a way that would feel more honest. I am a person who has experienced a lot of pain. But I did it in a way that is invisible and hard to ignore. There are scars all through my vagina. I think the scars should be on the outside so that other people can see them. I think that marking yourself in proportion to the pain you feel is a way of identifying yourself so that you can find other people to talk to who can hopefully give you relevant advice beyond, "Just cheer up!" Yeah, fuck you too.
Pot keeps me from feeling suicidal. I'm just not desperate enough. It really pisses me off that I can never really be a martyr for any cause ever in my life because if I go in a way that is not completely fucking random people will assume I killed myself. It's just got to be the base assumption forever.
I'd really like to kill myself. But in my personal hierarchy of needs it is far far more important that I never give my children the experience of parental suicide. Jimmy thinks that just not talking about things and not doing the same things will break the chains and he's wrong. The only thing that will break the chains is consciously talking about what we are doing and then choosing to do something else. It is hard to be a different person. It doesn't happen by sitting back silently and hoping it happens.
Who do I want to be? I want to be someone who doesn't need to be apathetic all the time in order to function. This stage of processing won't last forever. What do I need to change about my life in order to not get back to feeling this desperate and hurt? Can I change enough? Is this just something that is part of me because of my previous trauma? Will I always find a new trigger somewhere down the road? I don't know. I really don't.
I'm just bitchy and mean and bored and antsy and angry and touchy when I am sober. I feel so dissatisfied with everything in life. I hate that in myself. And when I'm stoned I'm fine. No really. I am doing exactly what I said I would and I do enjoy it when I can focus on it. There must be something wrong with me if I need pot to focus. That's not very functional, only it is. I'm functional, I really am. I beg the internet to believe me. Why do I care so much? Why do I feel like I constantly have to prove that I have some value. I am not just a worthless piece of shit. Even if I do smoke pot. Even if I am just a disgusting whore.
I think I'm ordering more pot today.