![[dr. bob]](/dr-bob-sm.gif)
Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 5 to 29 of 31. Go back in thread:
Posted by susan47 on August 6, 2006, at 16:14:20
In reply to I see, posted by Declan on August 6, 2006, at 14:29:44
> It's Joan *and* Susan. Things become clearer. I must get a cup of tea.
I love you. Who are you? New name or always been here? You know, I have a problem with drugs. Well, just one. So forgive me, my mind ... works, but not into the past, very well. Which is okay.
Hey.
The conversation was about interesting descriptions of women. So you're a woman honey, grab your tea and look up or make a literary description of a woman, something that grabs your imagination ... but I'm still waiting for Joan, she's not elaborating. How 'bout you, you going to elaborate..? Tell how your daughter made you proud ... how old is she?
Oh god. Does she live with you?
Posted by Declan on August 6, 2006, at 20:27:19
In reply to Re: I see » Declan, posted by susan47 on August 6, 2006, at 16:14:20
She was so mature and reasonable. We were talking about gang rapes and whether they were happening here, the way the boys treat the girls and she said 2 things about the pack leaders, one of which was 'they all get girlfriends for the winter' with a bit of a shrug and a grimace, and the other thing was there had been allegations of boys pissing on girls, and she said 'I've been pissed on, but it was just some guys who pissed in a cup and threw it at us, and I thought 'I've been pissed on', but hey, that's (the name of our town)'. And I found myself thinking that it hasn't been all bad then, but boy, we've had some fights. She was so mature and attractive and her judgements were great. She 16.
Posted by susan47 on August 6, 2006, at 21:15:02
In reply to Re: I see » susan47, posted by Declan on August 6, 2006, at 20:27:19
I'm speechless. Speechless. She has to be strong, way stronger than I could imagine. I'll bet it felt really good to her to tell you this, even off-hand .. I remember how good it feels to think your parent knows you. It's awful to try hiding things, to feel like you have to hide anything from the parent you feel close to, or want to be close to. It's so great that she can tell you this stuff. Maybe it's because of your honest fights, maybe there's some good in fighting honestly. I don't know. Do you think there's that?
Posted by wildcardII on August 7, 2006, at 1:55:46
In reply to Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 6, 2006, at 0:16:13
Posted by Declan on August 7, 2006, at 3:47:54
In reply to Oh. » Declan, posted by susan47 on August 6, 2006, at 21:15:02
She did strike me as being strong, last night. She does Hapkido (martial art) and says she wants to be either a police officer or do criminology. I think she should be a barrister.
In this conversation my daughter and her cousin were talking about the town situation with the parents, who were worried and thought something should be done, and were asking the kids what to do. The kids were less optimistic.
I don't forget what it was like for me though, and think kids these days behave better (and are less of a worry) than we did (were).
Declan
Posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 6:50:52
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by susan47 on August 6, 2006, at 2:16:00
I am empty because I have given everything I have inside to people and get nothing in return.
But I'm told that I think "it's all about me"
I had to take a job that barely pays the payments I'm required to make in this houseold and have nothing left for gas money to get to the job.
I am told that I waste money on wine and cigarettes.
I hate my husband for all the mind f*cks he has given me.
I am empty from trying to give him reasons for why I am hurt and not being able to make him understand or care enough to change his ways.
I am empty because I can't love anymore.
My soul is empty.
My heart is empty.
My body is empty.
My world is empty and there is no reason for me to be in it.
I am told that I am loved, but not shown, and therefore realize that I am not.
I call and leave messages with friends and loved ones and no return calls come in.
I am so empty inside that I can't get out of bed.
I am depressed beyond reason and I can't get stop feeling like a waste. I've wasted my life, and I waste the day, dont' get enough done, don't feel happy ever, I don't dream anymore. I don't fantasize anymore. I have nothing to look forward to, no hope of anything getting better.
I've lost both my parents now and don't have any security feeling anymore.
Empty.
Lost.
Hopeless.
Posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 7:04:56
In reply to Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 6, 2006, at 0:16:13
It's really about how we as women who are generally the caregivers have been transfered into working mothers who have no time to shave ourlegs because when we get home from work we have to cook supper, clean the house from the messes everyone has made during the day while we were gone, put up salsa and spagetti sauce from our deceased father's garden because it is somehow a piece of them that still remains and we know that we are doing what he wanted.
We aren't supposed to mourn for more than a few weeks after we lose a parent because that means we arent' giving them our undivided attention. We are supposed to pull ourselves up by our bra straps, buckup and get over it because we have a family to take care of.We are lost empty shells by the time we are 40 and if we try to improve ourselves by new haircuts or a new pair of pretty shoes we are trying to get above ourselves and are sometimes put back in our places with a resounding mind slap.
We are often expected after a hard day and evening of working to simply open our arms and our legs so that we may be f*cked again and this time we are supposed to enjoy it.
We aren't supposed to have fun because that means we are acting childish.
We arent' supposed to have friends who are single because that means we are trying to act like them or they are trying to influence us to be single as well.
We aren't supposed to want anything different from the life we have because that makes us selfish.
So we are players in a play that describes the life they want us to play. We pretend we are okay, we pretend we like it, we pretend we are happy,,,,,,,,,,,,until we can't pretend anymore and then we are done.
We are empty and we are done.
We are nobody then.
Everything inside us, every little bit of selfness has been sucked out of us until we are ampty and done.
Posted by susan47 on August 7, 2006, at 12:49:01
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 7:04:56
Posted by Declan on August 7, 2006, at 14:23:04
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 7:04:56
Joan, I'm really impressed (I hope I don't get these details wrong, I know you so little) that you could look after your father as he was dying when you felt like this. I dunno about most men or most people, but that sort of thing has my respect.
We need to be selfless and sacrificing enough to not be really awful and make life work, but we also need to look after ourselves.
Declan
Posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 22:11:29
In reply to Re: Empty » Joan797, posted by Declan on August 7, 2006, at 14:23:04
The thing is, it had to be done. He needed care, I was unemployed and I could do it. It wasn't fun, it was heart wrenching to be more precise, and above all else, it was a huge strain for an emotionally unstable person like me. But it needed and had to be done, so I did it.
I have this knack of surviving this life even though it is killing me slowly over and over and over again. I survive only to go through more strife again.
Quite frankly, I'm tired of the phrase, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle" because I'm getting pretty sick of God's way of dealing with me. I think I've learned from my experiences quite enough thank you very much.
Posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 22:14:57
In reply to (((((Joan))))) (nm), posted by susan47 on August 7, 2006, at 12:49:01
Thank you. Your silent hug means more to me than you can imagine. It shows me unopinionated support and understanding that I knew you could give.
Posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 22:32:21
In reply to Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 6, 2006, at 0:16:13
I read what I wrote and I cry over my own immense sadness. I'm embarassed that I don't have my sh*t together, and I'm appauled that I can get so depressed that I speak out about it to others and then require sympathy. No, that's not quite it, I require validation for my feelings....as if somehow if someone else feels or has experienced the same things or feelings then that somehow makes me less of a victim. Just because I and others experience it doesn't make it right. It doesn't make the problem go away.
I hate this life. I really hate it and want it to end. Why does it have to be so hard? Why are there so many others out there experiencing a sh*tty life? Why is God doing this. Or should I ask, why does God allow us to do this to others or ourselves? I should have that kind of control over my own destiny.
Can't it just be 1948 again when Mother and Daddy looked like movie stars and were beautifully in love and just married? What a wonderful era. Beautiful clothes, classic styles, magnificent photography....Or 1972 when the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus still gave me attention, and the chocolate flowed like water off my hips and thighs never sticking and never causing acne. Or the summer of 1983 when high school was a not so distant past, my "Chic" jeans molded my small *ss to perfection and all I was concerned about was my Saturday night date with a gorgeous tall dark haired blue eyed football star and whether I'd like to "go all the way" with him.
I should have moved further away from home, I should have lived, I should have breathed, I should have experienced all that I could.........
Why can't I go back and live that life over?
Why do I have so very many regrets?
Why?
Why?
Why?
Posted by susan47 on August 7, 2006, at 22:41:53
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 7:04:56
I'm a victim too but I'm a victim of my own f*cking mind, darling. As are you. Don't you get it? You're doing this to you, nobody is making you do this nobody is holding a gun to your head saying feel Bad about yourself, you Don't Deserve anything better, Honey, You Made This Bed Now You Have To Lie In It. You're calling yourself a victim. Clearly, you made this happen. Yeah you can make it different.
Don't you just f*cking HATE it when people say stuff like that? Doesn't it just drive you insane? It drove me Nuts to Realize, that I was different from the rest of the sane world. Nuts. I hated it and I hated me and I Still Cannot Understand Why In The Name of God, Am I The Only Person Hurting Like This? Why am I bleeding silently all over the floor, the walls, the mirrors ...
everything has my blood on it.
Everything. Nobody bled more than I did. You know that Joan, I've explained it. I don't remember a response. I don't remember hearing back from you when I told you Exactly How Hard it was .. and I wish I were talking about a certain gorgeous male's C*ck .. but we're not .. we're not and I never will be, I will Never be Allowed to Have what I Really, Really and Truly, Desire.
The Most.
In my life.
Short as it is, short as they all are. Damn.
Posted by Joan797 on August 7, 2006, at 22:51:07
In reply to Re: Empty » Joan797, posted by susan47 on August 7, 2006, at 22:41:53
Sometimes I get so overwhelmed by what I have written that I have to get away from Babble. When I take a few days or weeks off, it's like the thread died and I don't even know what to say. Maybe that's what happened to the post you are talking about. Something you should know though, I read ever one of your posts. I may not always respond, but I read every one of them. Your writing intrigues me, sometimes turns me on, and other times just simply says what I feel inside myself.
Yes I've done this to myself. I know that. That makes it even more difficult to bear. It is so easy to try to switch the blame to someone else, but I ALLOWED THIS TO HAPPEN. No shocker there. I grew up learning the servitude I as a female was meant to provide. Some of that is the middle America mentality of good ol down home family values. What a crock. What a bunch of stinking b*llshit. So why can't I overcome it. Why can't we overcome the things we allow to keep us down on the floor underneath everyone elses spiked heels?
Posted by susan47 on March 17, 2009, at 13:59:46
In reply to Re: Empty » Joan797, posted by susan47 on August 7, 2006, at 22:41:53
I look at what I've written and I cannot believe I let myself go like that, let myself be so filled up with wanting to spit out the most iincredible things, things that I thought were the truth, because I let myself feel a way I really shouldn't have.
And strange, too, to realize that in the real world, where I too can live, sometimes, and be okay, strange to realize that my telephoning and using the telephone voice of my therapist as some kind of muse, a gateway into a deep longing within my soul, and not earthly-fleshly based at all.
Strange, very awful, really, to realize too that some people call my behaviour "stalking". And what a shock, to read that coming from my sister, my very own sister. And strange to realize that the world would be a happier place if I hadn't exposed myself so voraciously.
I am so sorry.
Posted by susan47 on March 18, 2009, at 17:54:00
In reply to Re: Empty » Joan797, posted by susan47 on August 7, 2006, at 22:41:53
> I'm a victim too but I'm a victim of my own f*cking mind, darling. As are you. Don't you get it? You're doing this to you, nobody is making you do this nobody is holding a gun to your head saying feel Bad about yourself, you Don't Deserve anything better, Honey, You Made This Bed Now You Have To Lie In It. You're calling yourself a victim. Clearly, you made this happen. Yeah you can make it different.
> Don't you just f*cking HATE it when people say stuff like that? Doesn't it just drive you insane? It drove me Nuts to Realize, that I was different from the rest of the sane world. Nuts. I hated it and I hated me and I Still Cannot Understand Why In The Name of God, Am I The Only Person Hurting Like This? Why am I bleeding silently all over the floor, the walls, the mirrors ...
> everything has my blood on it.
> Everything. Nobody bled more than I did. You know that Joan, I've explained it. I don't remember a response. I don't remember hearing back from you when I told you Exactly How Hard it was .. and I wish I were talking about a certain gorgeous male's C*ck .. but we're not .. we're not and I never will be, I will Never be Allowed to Have what I Really, Really and Truly, Desire.
> The Most.
> In my life.
> Short as it is, short as they all are. Damn.Wednesday 18 March 2009
And I've come to realize, that this is all, on a certain level, utter and complete nonsense. It was a mind stoned on marihuana, a mind only feeling and not capable of thinking rationally, but a mind and an ego stirred up to a certain level wanting to BE in this world, and not merely going from bedknob to doorpost to grave ... and it was a grave error in judgment, to let it all Hang Out the way I did, and then to tell some people about it, and the only saving grace of all of it, really, if there really is a saving grace, Grace ... is that I don't think anyone, not one person, took me seriously so that I am still, to a degree, anonymous. But who knows what the therapist has done, who knows what anger and fear I stirred up and made Real. I only hope I haven't destroyed his trust and faith in humanity, if there is such a thing. Most of all, I really wish I hadn't destroyed his faith in me.
I read some of the stuff, well really I can't do that yet, and think at the same time, because when I do I just want to hurt myself all over again, I end up thinking terrible things about myself, how could I go this far? I only know that at some point in the beginning, at the very beginning of my therapy with this therapist, that I decided I was going to be Brutal, and I really was. I wanted get rid of what I thought of as my Monster. The monster was me, on drugs.
But I liked feeling that way, too. I have to admit, and I turned my back on my children and I can't ever forgive myself for that. I turned my back on what really mattered.
Posted by susan47 on April 12, 2009, at 14:29:23
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by susan47 on March 18, 2009, at 17:54:00
for my kids, they're good and okay and great people, and know when they've been mistreated or abused. And know when and how to forgive, and so I could forgive myself, I did.
Posted by susan47 on July 31, 2009, at 16:49:52
In reply to Empty, posted by Joan797 on August 6, 2006, at 0:16:13
> Now it's your turn. Describe yourself.
Temperature: 32 degrees Celsius out; 27.4 degrees Celsius in.
Music: Il Divo, "The Promise", 1. The Power of Love (La Fuerza Mayor)
2. La Promessa
3. Adagio
4. Hallelujah (Aleluya)
5. L'Alba del Mondo
6. Enamorado
7. Angelina
8. The Winner Takes it All (Va Todo al Ganador)
9. La Luna
10.She
11.Amazing GraceMood: Decidedly. And Everywhere. Always. Thinking, Feeling, Being, Remembering, Knowing, Loving. Always.
Activity: Washing car/posting to Susan47, now Susan52, in reality, Susan52. Must change, must be current. In spite of edging psychosis .. edging ... edgy. Edgier. I Love You.
Understanding: What Makes Life Beautiful, and Special, and decidedly (loving you in spite of yourself, in spite of myself, I love you.. yes, you. You. There was never, never any other. Why? Because what makes life beautiful, and special, and very decidedly ... what is the word, where do I search, where will my soul (!) take me? I tell you, it is magnanimously ... bittersweet .. the tragedy and the bittersweet triumph of this moment, is that this moment is all that I have, or will ever have ... and in this moment I choose you, and I choose love, and no matter I will never see you again although that is my personal tragedy I suppose it is your personal triumph ... what makes me love you, is that you and I are ephemeral. Here today. Gone tomorrow. But I wish not, I hope not, and of course this is a lie ... but were you or I to live forever, life would lose all meaning.
And in the grace of my complete giving, and listening with all ears opening, I have chosen Love. In all its' greatness, in all it's completeness ... love completes us all.
You fool. I wish you could see with my eyes, if only you could see with my eyes ...
00000000000000000000000000000000ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo00000000000000000000000oooooooooooooooooooo
What it is, is life is a temporary state. So very fragile. So very awful for so many, that poor man imprisoned in Guantanamo, the shame of the United States, that poor man imprisoned, he Innocent, the unfortunate circumstance of being Afghan, in the wrong place at the wrong time, imprisoned ande tortured and made to confess against his will, to say an Untruth when the Truth should have been obvious to anyone with a brain, but the United States Army has no brain, it has no heart, it has No Brain.
This is unfortunate. The United States is a predator, and those who say so may not be silenced if they are on the right side of the fence; however, we have seen firsthand and we continue to see this predator eat all others, gobble up those in its' path and leave a wake of ruined detritus of humanity, and choose to cover itself in Height and righteousness, and Might, and the United States chooses to exert its' self-given Right by its' schizophrenic Might, the United States is itself a country run by the schizophrenic-minded. And more religious people are now reproducing than atheists or agnostics, and look at what Margret Atwood wrote, her book may yet be closer to reality than any of us would be willing to admit, or to see, because we have chosen to blind ourselves to the reality of what our lives have become.CD Player: Bose.
Volume: A comfortable 75! To hear music, one must close one's eyes, be safe, and completely Immerse.
Activity: Washing the car, a very old car, a very reliable car, a car I almost kill myself in sometimes falling asleep on the way to work or back, and next ....
Moving. Again. Once again, I fashion a home for myself and my loved ones in a new community; but happiness and fulfillment is found in every moment, with friends, with family, and away too. Far away from all of you, from the sickness of society ... down the river pop and juice and beer and wine and cooler boxes and bottles and cans and garbage .. people aren't what they used to be ... for the most part we are a people of irresponsibility for the next moment .. giving up before the job of taking responsibility and Loving that, Enjoying the Privileges we have ... no we can't seem to do that can we .... we need to conquer the beauty of nature with our garbage, and our (Yes!) feces ... what a sick society we have become ... mankind is closer to degradation now than he would have wished to be, had he been able to see the future ... darling, future generations, your children's children and perhaps your own children are now saying to themselves, "What were my parents and my grandparents thinking? How could they do these things, the Alberta tar sands, the onconscionable giving away of the natural resources they had, and leaving us with so little ... and the need to survive ... and they had it all, giving us in return. Giving us in return. The Sins of the Father ... so many people now willing to hide in religion, to continue to justify their blatant misuse of the good earth, the only true god they would ever know .... my parents were so ignorant."
Rant. I don't care. I see what you don't. I do.
Am I manic, am I insane, is my mind making connections from the reading and the listening and the talking and the immersion in my world that I can finally lay claim to ...
It was through loving you, that I came to love myself.
Posted by susan47 on July 31, 2009, at 21:39:57
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by susan47 on July 31, 2009, at 16:49:52
the lowest of the bottom-feeders, no different than any other. If I had power, would I abuse it? I most decidedly already have.
As have you, as have most of us.
Once the admission has been wrought, then what?
And what of that poor man, one among many, who gave over eight years of his life to an ignorant monolithic government, to abusers, men and women we have to call our neighbours, some call them our friends and family, abusive people who make judgments without considering the consequences ... I am no different than you. Abusive people who are just "following orders", doing "what's right for my country" ... people made pawns by an abusive government, Capitalism and Democracy are .. what is the word ... what to call that sh*t that passes for Truth and Justice and Equality for All, or some such crap the government likes to spew ... spew, like the sewer outfall from Victoria, British Columbia, straight out into the ocean, so bad some days you want to puke ... irresponsible idiots, that is what human beings are.
Posted by susan47 on August 2, 2009, at 0:04:45
In reply to In Spite of the Fact that I too am a Human, posted by susan47 on July 31, 2009, at 21:39:57
I'm the worst of the worst though, unable to let go and let live. Unable to forgive and forget, unable, unable, unable.
If I were a different person, I would not make the typical nuisance call to my ex-T, I would forget about the whole thing, somehow, lock it away where it won't hurt me anymore, where I can forget that I am somehow most deservedly unforgivable.
Not to hate myself.
To love, to love, to love.
I don't know why there is no god, I don't know why it has to be that way, I don't know what the truth is anymore, I hurt, I hurt, I hurt.
Posted by susan47 on August 2, 2009, at 0:05:21
In reply to Re: In Spite of the Fact that I too am a Human, posted by susan47 on August 2, 2009, at 0:04:45
Posted by susan47 on August 4, 2009, at 22:45:08
In reply to In Spite of the Fact that I too am a Human, posted by susan47 on July 31, 2009, at 21:39:57
Oh. Mankind - man -- has always, always, always most usually, got his c*ck in his head or his hands or both.
THAT is what mankind was "thinking".
THAT is why we're in such a shitload of trouble, such a f*ck*ng mess (and I DON'T CARE that I am swearing. Sometimes, darling man, swearing is JUSTIFIED. Do you understand? Do you?) ... such a mess we're in, and art and theology and archeology and scientology (give me a f*ck*ng break) and religiosity and sexuality and personality and
...
break
...
And women want power, and they deserve it, after what they (I include self in this) have been through with "man"kind. If you break the word up, in my mind, that would have been an oxymoron.. speaking of yesterday. Today I know there is such an animal, there is such a thing as VERY kind, very ethical men in this world. And I would love them ALL, all five of them (kidding), if I knew them all...
Posted by susan47 on August 9, 2009, at 18:39:52
In reply to Re: Empty, posted by susan47 on July 31, 2009, at 16:49:52
it, the last six years, is that I care what the good doctor thinks. And he showed me. Several times. With letters.. letters that assumed and projected the worst of humankind .. onto me.
How angry I became.
What an ignorant fool, my doctor, the good doctor, really was/is, most likely still probably is. How much I loved what I thought he was. I really loved that. I projected a really lovely person onto CW. I don't think he ever was that, though. Which is a f*ck*ng tragedy.But me, I AM that person, I AM the person I projected onto him, Him, he ... he was magnificent.
Long may he live; may he live in my daughter's psyche, in her heart consciousness may she seek out a man worthy of her love, worthy and right, and good, and sexy as all hell.
mwah
Posted by susan47 on August 14, 2009, at 16:09:00
In reply to And the f*ck*ng tragedy of all of this, of all of, posted by susan47 on August 9, 2009, at 18:39:52
The wound comes up and it is still raw with unhealed pain.
What have you done???
What have I done???
How could this happen???
Posted by susan47 on August 25, 2009, at 12:12:21
In reply to On A Day Like Today, posted by susan47 on August 14, 2009, at 16:09:00
this movie, "The Magdalene Sisters"
was extremely, but very, very triggering.
And I don't know why.
Any camera pointed at my face
would have registered, in my eyes, a very exaggerated tragedy, an inability to comprehend the cruelty of one person against another,
a father against a daughter, the torturous realities of being made ashamed that you were raped. And the boy? He hanged himself ... which is a good thing, only the father, he Blamed his daughter, who was a completely innocent victim of a heinous crime ... and he should have loved her and supported her and been Glad that the "boy" who raped his daughter, who did this to her, at least felt some kind of shame for what he did. For what he did, was Terrible.
And what the father did, was terrible. Terrible to behold, and to hear, and the pain of being a new mother and having your newborn child torn from your arms and given away, never to know this child, never to nurse this one with your breasts, which are bursting and hurting, and the indignity of suffering agonizing pain because of mammary gland inflamation and infection, and possibly even dying of it, and so many other things besides, all because of a lack of Caring, a lack of Care, a lack of Love in the world .. the patronizing, paternal world.
F*ck them. F*ck them all, and not in the nice way.
No.
This should NEVER have happened.
But it did.
To very, very many of us. Some of it, all of it, more of it ... I don't know ... I only know it sits there, it's there in my heart, and watching this movie was almost more than I could bear.
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