Absence Makes The Heart Grow.... Weary

My two stepsons are at their birthmother's house all this week for Thanksgiving Break so I am finally feeling the rusty pressure-release valve turning inside my brain. As I sit here and write this I think, "this has been the worst month and a half in my life." Not true, of course. There have been far darker Pits I've trudged through in my past that I'll never talk about. But right now it seems like the worst only because I'm neck deep in it. When I woke up from my nap this afternoon I felt like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Now I finally have the courage to set fingertips to keyboard once again. I've been neglecting the blog for a reason.

Two day ago I wrote this in a journal and have copied it here verbatim:

The kids are gone for a week! YAY!! This is both a good thing and a bad thing. Good for me and bad for my husband because he wont leave me alone. "Let's run around the house naked all week!" he says. Granted, we did this a lot during Summer Break. It was fun. I'm all for nudism in the home. Very freeing.

But right now my heart's just not in it. So he's pissy because I need time alone. Preferably in the closet with my pillow and blanky. *sigh* Which makes me angry at myself because I totally understand his perspective. So how does the practical gnostic say to her somewhat materialistic non-gnostic husband, "Honey, I'm hearing voices in my head and I'm sorry but I really need you to go away for a while?"

The past month and a half I've been away from the blog(not posting anything personal, just copy/pasting interesting world news) it's basically been because of child education issues. Which has led to a level of frustration so extreme I've closed myself off from Pleroma. What can I say? Aggravation makes one do counterproductive and idiotic things. That's the only defense I have and the backlash has been making me crazy.

Week One: phft. I can handle all this. What's the big deal. I can take care of this on my own.
Week Two: Migraine. And lots of muscle relaxers + Xanax to keep my cool.
Week Three: Screaming at the kids to get their heads out of their butts and to quit taking advantage of my good nature and willingness to help. Not successful.
Week Four: Insomnia.
Week Five: Lost my temper finally and told hubby I want the kids back in brick-and-mortar school. Pronto. As in... yesterday!

A few days ago I finally sat back and realized what I was doing. What I had done to my relationship with Pleroma.

Later that night in my sleep I started hearing lyrics to an Averil Lavigne song. "Who knows what could happen, do what you do just keep on laughing. One thing's true- there's always a brand new day."

The one section Pleroma seems to be bashing against my skull like an anvil is the high pitched, breathy falsetto line of: "Find yourself- who are you?!" He pauses at this particular line and slams his cosmological finger on the repeat button to make sure I hear it at least twenty times before moving onto the same verse, same as the first! I'm Henry the Eighth I am. Henry the Eight I am I am... kidding. But no, really. The repetition of those few lines is pushing me over the edge. I used to like the song. Now I'm ready to crush the damn CD into little itty bitty pieces with my bare hands because it makes me so mad.

This morning in my sleep he moved onto a heartfelt rendition of Chris Isaak's, "Wrong To Love You." (*groan* sappy much?) The vibe I got from him wasn't condemnation or irritation with me so much as sadness and longing. Chris' "Heart Shaped World" came next. Four am and I've got the verses of this song running through my head with the visuals of the "Wicked Game" music video. Dear god. Enough already!!!!!

I've been slowly tuning back in. It's rough. My head aches and my heart is crying. I have to make a tough decision here about the kids' schooling and I don't think anybody's going to be happy with it but me.

We've tried virtual schooling since August of this year. The youngest was being bullied and the eldest showed potential to do far more than what the school would allow him to do. The first month and a half was insane as we tried to learn a completely new system of learning. By the first part of October we were doing fine. Then things started happening which made me realize just how much more independent the boys were truly capable of being but were simply choosing not to be. So I slowly backed off and gave them room to grow. They showed out with temper tantrums and thirteen hour days instead of six. It's all about what they choose to do. It's completely up to them. Brow beating them doesn't work anymore. They're immune to it.

Virtual schooling is a privilege, not a right. Well, technically, it is a "right" of every American parent, however in this particular instance I'm stating that it is a privilege which is just as easily taken away as anything else.

I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting with them, tired of school feeling like a war I wake up to every morning, tired of fighting with my husband over why the kids are still doing schoolwork at 7 o'clock at night, and most of all I'm tried of trying to make peace when all three of them apparently don't give a crap about how much stress this puts me under and how much worse my chronic pain illness flares up because of it. The kids say they want to do virtual school but their actions speak volumes of the opposite and nothing I do seems to change their mind.

When my body pain flares due to stress the entire household essentially shuts down because I am in bed. Nobody seems capable of doing anything correctly without me standing over them or smacking them on the back of the head. Or reminding them. Or writing a list. Or taking away their video games. Or pointing out the obvious fact that no, honey, I'm not going to be able to cook dinner tonight. I'm laying down on the bed with a heating pad behind my shoulders, an icepack on my forehead, and am chugging down Cherry Coke at a frightening speed just to keep the migraine at bay with the caffeine. (I can't take Excedrin because it makes me dizzy so I have to get my caffeine through other products.)

As much as I positively love the flexibility of virtual school for the boys(I could write a book on the virtues of it!! I really do love it! I see it's positive worth and the kids have gained invaluable experience from it.) - it's killing me. Giving deadlines and setting kitchen timers for completing assignments and changing their procrastinating 'I just want to talk and not do schoolwork' attitude hasn't worked. The more I try to steer them in line the more they resist. It's created more tension. Being the stepmom who has the kids during the school year really sucks sometimes. She got out of the marriage easy and honestly? Some days I really hate her for it.

Their birthmom gets the fun job of simply picking them up on Holidays and taking them out for amusement park trips. I'm the one who has the onerous job of making sure their schooling is taken care of. If I don't then I look just as bad as she did when she was married to hubby. She certainly didn't give a damn. So why should I? (I'm suffering from Second-Wife-Syndrome, can't you tell?)

Answer: because I love the boys and I want them to grow up to be flexible, independent minded adults; not sheep. They show the capacity for learning.

But the more I "care" the more they pit their attitudes against me. I feel like a failure. And it doesn't matter how many logical discussions we have together or individually. They understand the rationale. They really do! They simply choose not to care.

And this is why I'm done with virtual school and being so involved with their schooling, period. I do care. But I care about my sanity more. And that's really the bottom line. If I'm driven bonkers because I care so much then how can I help out around the house and do the basic things which need to be done? Hubby has gotten so used to me taking over all the schooling issues that he just sits back and lets me do it all. Well, my lips are sealed as of today. He's going to have to grow a pair and take hold of the reins.

So that's the end of the book I wrote yesterday. When I woke up from my afternoon nap today it was from a nightmare. Vivid. I felt like if I opened my eyes I'd be right smack in the middle of it. This nightmare is what prompted me to sit down at the computer today and take stock of what has happened the past few weeks.

The nightmare was what our school day was going to be like this coming Tuesday when they returned from their birthmother's. Time-outs. Yelling. Frustration. Whining. More time-outs. Procrastination. Rinse and repeat at will.... And then finally, both boys end up sitting on their bed, grounded, the rest of the afternoon because they are simply not willing to quietly do their work.

We have had whole afternoons like that in the past. Few and far between but yes, they have occurred. So it's not some surreal creation of my imagination. But when I woke up it felt like a horrible epiphany and I had to act on it. So swallowed my angst and asked what it meant. The answer? "You already know." Gee. Thanks.

Sarcasm aside, yes, I do know what it means. Sometimes you gotta ask stupid questions and get stupid answers before you sit up and take note of the obvious. Thick head and all that.

Hubby and I have been arguing about this for about two weeks now. I told him I was done two weeks ago. He remained hopeful that I'd find another positive "wave" coming into shore and would ride out this negative one, thus forgetting why I was so upset. Nope. Ain't gonna happen.

I really am done being their "Learning Coach," as the school calls the position of the parent who stays home with the child(ren). More like their babysitter without the benefits of being recognized as an authority on anything more than answering ridiculous questions like, "But I don't understand this. What does this say?" *sigh* If a child can read(and mine can, very very well, thank you.) then following simple step-by-step instructions isn't difficult. If it is then you have a learning problem. These boys don't. Or, if they'd like to make one up it'd be called "ActLikeAnIdiotAndMaybeShe'llBeStupidEnoughToGiveUsTheAnswer."

Sorry, but this momma ain't no dummy. I wasn't born one and I certainly didn't become one by marrying their father. My IQ did not drop when I said "I Do" and they knew me for quite a while before I said those words. I see right through them. And when they're faced with this knowledge they clam up and then act even more belligerent.

So, that's where I've been the past few weeks. In my own little private hell of my own making. Because you know, I'm the one who pushed for them to try virtual school in the first place when the bullying became too much and the other child's potential was staring us in the face. I'm the one who jumped through the fiery hoops to make it all happen, which, by the way, took months of preparation.

Now I have to figure out how I'm going to react when they come back from vacation. Pondering. Musing. I'm getting there, slowly but surely. The fact that I'm putting my foot down already makes me feel about 20% better. Now maybe I can ease up on the Cherry Coke.

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The title of a book I'd read in the past came to mind from Pleroma a few days ago and I finally acted on the direction to look it up again. It's the series of books by Jane Roberts which begins with "Seth Speaks." That's actually the only one I've read. It blew my mind. Opened doors.

Now I find out there were other Seth books put out by the "author." I have them on the way and look forward to revisiting this character. I peeked into The Nature of Psyche: Its Human Expression on Amazon and found a passage which held me riveted to my chair for a full hour in silent contemplation. As a lay gnostic with some time and experience with Pleroma, I think I can read Seth's writings in a different light now. It's glaringly obvious now what I was reading at the time in Seth Speaks, however, I stalled for years until another knock came on my mental door, and that was the call to layman's gnosis.

From page four of the Nature of Psyche: Its Human Expression:

"... for each of your experiences, however minute or seemingly insignificant, becomes part of the knowledge of your species. Where did you come from and where are you going? What are you? What is the nature of the psyche?

I can only write a portion of this book. You must complete it. For "The Psyche" is meaningless concept as it relates to the individual psyche. I speak to you from levels of yourself that you have forgotten, and yet not forgotten. I speak to you through the printed page, and yet my words will rearouse within you the voices that spoke to you in your childhood, and before your birth.

This will not be a dry treatise, studiously informing you about some hypothetical structure called the psyche, but will instead evoke from the depths of your being experiences that you have forgotten, and bring together from the vast reaches of time and space the miraculous identity that is yourself."

Br. Jay on Night Caravan wrote:

Adam....Where is Your Leaf?

Jesus said, "Adam came from immense power and wealth, but he wasn't worthy of you. If he was worthy, he wouldn't have tasted death." Gospel of Thomas 85

Adam came from God, and yet he chose to fall into ignorance. The death is the blindness of the soul to that of the spirit. He forgot where he came from, and who he was. The practice of this way is not easy. It is much easier to fall into ignorance again and again. What a challenge to keep this fire going day and night. Only those who pursue this gnosis will taste of it. One need not convert to my religion or any particular religion to know this gnosis. However one must do the work and be met by grace that changes everything about you. The fruit of this is compassion.



Amen, Brother!