Sunday, September 18, 2011


Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my mothers death. Sept. 17th, 2010.

This song has so many lines that mean things to me, clouds hanging over me, places to hide away..

I still remember mom like I saw her yesterday, like she will drive up and park in the garage and come in the door of the kitchen with a big smile and hug me, like she did when she came back from an out of town trip. And all would be right with my world.

Even though all was not really all right with my world then, I was confused and angry and still don't even fully know why. But she was there and I always had that if I ever wanted to submit to her love and not be a little psycho bitch rebelious child.

In the end I did submit to her love, but that was at the end of her life. How could I not? My stubborn drama wasn't saving her life, but probably helping end it.

The last month and a half of her life, we were as close as mother and daughter can be, and even closer, as close as two people can be. She told me all her secrets, all her hopes and her disappointments. She said I was not one of them. Even though I tried to be.

I think she knew what I was going through because she did too when she was my age. My recent trip was an attempt to sort of live part of my life like she had, but really it wasn't. She did it for real, I still live protected from anything getting too real, except for my thoughts and feelings. But I'm learning, at least by seeing the difference.

Mom was adventurous, hella passionate, moody, exhilarated, and grounded in her family and her love. She didn't show her love by acting all sweet, but by being tough when she needed, there when I needed, even when she was dying, and true to herself and to us. She gave us her.

I miss her so much. I want to tell her about my life and my adventures. I know she could appreciate them like no one else. She inspires a lot of what I do, my writing, my sexual escapades, my willingness to feel my darker swings and not worry that I will not be happy again.

I am happy mom. Truly. Not for all the great things, but just to be alive and having experiences. That is the most important thing you taught me. Well second most.

The first is love. Just love.


Saturday, December 11, 2010

The edge

   Well today is it, THE far edge of seventeen. My last day as a baby, cause tomorrow I'm officially an adult. I started this blog while listening to Lindsay Lohan singing "Edge of Seventeen"

     The words, Lindsay, the mood, the idea of being on the edge of something, and the age, all seemed to have something to do with me. That is why the blog has the title. Lindsay is a lost girl and I felt like one too. And what I wrote has stuff form just before I was 17 till now, the far edge.
     I wanted to talk about my mom, I wanted to make a tribute to her, but it ended up being me talking about me, and now I think that is really better, because it helped me to see stuff in my life and get it out, and look at it from a little distance. I've changed a lot in just the 2 months I posted here. I was just coming out of the whole shock of losing my mom, and my own feelings of being sort of a burden. But I had lots of help from family and friends (Greta you are truly my friend!) And I am going to be ok.
    My mom was so amazing, but I dont want to talk about that anymore, at least not yet. I said the other day to someone that my mom put a lot of love into me, specially in the last months of her life. We talked so much, it was like she was trying to tell me everything she ever would have said if she had lived to see me grow up, have a career,  get married, have babies. See told me stuff that maybe she wouldnt have shared until I was much more mature or ready for. She was so loving and worried about me, when it was her that needed the attention. But she passed on a lot of her mom/woman/friend wisdom, and it is sitting undigested in my memories until I need it. Mom filled me up with love and wisdom that I will feed off of for the rest of my life. I'm keep realizing just how amazing she was.
    I have found that talking about stuff helps let go of it, and I don't want to let go of anything about my mom. I want to have memories of her and little stuff she said or did, pop up in my life when something happens to remind me. Its like that is what I have left of her and I don't want to let go of it.
    I do want to let go of the crazy stuff I did and the feelings of knowing how I hurt people, my friends, my family, my mom. And I think I am on the edge of that. Its like I have decided. I don't know what I decided, but maybe its just to live my life better and fully. That is what I think my mom would have wanted for me. That will be my tribute to her, being the best me I can, having a life full of love, adventure, and good accomplishments.

   Love you so much Mom, where ever you are.


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Elizabeth Edwards

     I just heard about Elizabeth Edwards dying. She had cancer a couple of times and this time didnt survive. Its like its sort of like what has happened in my life. My really bad year, 17. Sex, relationships falling apart, people dying of cancer. I dont know. She seemed to hold it together so well even though her husband wasnt supportive of her, at least in what he really did in life. They say he was there with her when she died. Was he there with her when she really needed him, when she should have been going to the doctor, but instead she was campaigning for him? He sounds kinda like me, self centered, immature, and dramatic. Ohhhh I want to be president. Well who would want that job? Everyone hating you, but so much power and attention.
     I am kind of at a stage where I am changing from one kind of person to another. I have been such a little baby. I was always the baby, because I was the youngest. And I didnt even realize it but I acted the role and played it for all it was worth. Crying for attention, but not having much to give back but being cute. Now I hope I can still hang onto cute and not need attention so much. I want to do something in life to be worthy of attention. And still be cute!?! If I lose that I wont be able to deal with it! But seriously, I think I am finally realizing that I dont want to be the person other people have to clean up the diapers for! And if you have read this blog from the first post onward, you know I have been a real poop butt!
     So thank you Elizabeth Edwards for being brave and all and for dying? Would people have learned from your example if you just faded away?
     Alot of what my mom gave me, was in her last months of life when she tried to tell me everything that she would have if she had seen me marry, and have kids, and all that. She tried to pass on to me her wisdom. I dont know if she did. Alot of what she said to me is still like undigested food. Sitting there as memories but not really used. I think I will look back throughout my life at those last months and remember something she said, and I think that is what she was trying to do. I love her so much. Elizabeth Edwards reminded me of her tonight by dying.
     I'm crying and happy.

   PS Please do some of the silly stuff on the Pancreatic Cancer Action Network link over on the right side. Little bits of help add up. Or Susan B Komen, or what ever. Please?

Friday, December 3, 2010

My Secret, how i was raped and still have my virginity

     Catchy title isn't it. I haven't written in a while, for one, things are better for me. I have LOTS of support, and I feel like I am waking up from a bad dream. The stuff is still there and real, but the terror and sadness are not as strong. I am now stronger than them. And I have met someone too. Yes I know it is way to soon to be in a relationship, but we have alot in common. We both have situations we are dealing with and need someone to talk with, and if you talk to someone long enough it just ends up being a relationship. He is SOOOO protective of me, overly so, but it is so cute that he is, and I think its good for him to have someone to care about, like how they say its good for people to have pets. My being in his life, gives him more purpose and focus outside of his issues, and same for me. We walk alot and talk, and hang out and talk. I like to sit on the couch with him, and lay my head on his shoulder and play with his hair, while he talks about stuff. Politics, whats wrong with the world, what he would like to do with his life. He is so passionate about things like that, and it just flows out of him, and I like listening, because it is someone else opening up themselves to me in a way that is trusting. I have been like that so much lately that it is good to be on the other side of it, I have spent so much time being listened to and supported, and maybe I am not so needy as I was. I think guys have a harder time opening up and trusting. It feels good to me to be this way with someone. I don't know where it will go, and really I just don't even want to think that way. I like the way it is now, and he's cute, smart, funny and treats me like a real friend. I think I am going to see if he will go to my house for part of winter break. That may weird him out a bit, having to meet my Dad and all, but I think they could have some good discussions and it would probably be pretty chill.
     Dad is doing ok. Its like I really don't know what to do for him. I feel like I should be helping him like he helps me, but I really don't know how. First I think I need to take good care of myself and not be a worry, and I am doing that. But I am sort of afraid to try to get him to talk to me about how he feels and stuff. I wonder what goes on in his mind. Mom and I talked about what would happen when she died, if she though Dad should remarry, or have girlfriends, or what, and sure he should, but that probably takes longer for older people than for people my age. He's 65, ten years older than Mom was. So maybe he is used to dealing with stuff by himself more. I know I am learning to do that, I think it is part of growing up. He has his work, he likes it and would probably do something similar even if he didnt want to work. He spends a lot of time in the field interviewing old people, and the rest of the time writing about it and stuff. He likes talking to people, getting their stories out of them. Maybe his work gives him the chance to focus outside himself. And we share Greta!
     She let me drive her old bug last week. We made a run to starbucks cause things were going good and we felt like celebrating. I could so be best friends with her if she were my age and not 70 something! She has been so amazing in helping me to see who I am, and find what I want to do about things. And really its not that she tells me anything, or says what is right and wrong, but she just gently gets me to look at it myself. Its like when I go into her office, my life is suspended, like time out, and a different me who is not so involved in it gets to see if from a safe chair a little ways away. I see why she still does what she does after all her years working, it must be so cool to be able to help people like she does. She used to be a college professor somewhere, and I think she wrote some books too. But to meet her she is just a sweet older woman who is interested in EVERYTHING. She even had the barrista at starbucks telling her stuff in the couple of minutes at the counter, he was telling her ways to do stuff to her bug so it wouldnt need tuneups as much, and it sounded like she was a mechanic talking to him! Luckily they didnt go out to the parking lot and start working on it, but I actually though they might. My Dad pays her alot to work with me, but I know that she does the same thing for free for other people, and really its cool that we can pay others can get help too. Besides she says I am the perfect way for her to start sabbath! ( I see her fridays) I am trying to get her to go on facebook. I am going to ask my dad if we can get her a ipad or something for christmas. Ha! Funny! For christmas! Just realized what I said. Shes Jewish! Oh well.
    So I said I had a secret. This is kinda a big deal for me because it is sort of where it started, my horrible year. And what I did is something I feel had a part in my mom being sick. It really was over a year ago now, last fall when I was still 16. I have written about the summer when I was 16 on my other blog, which is only for me, cause I say stuff there nobody needs to hear! Believe it or not I have more explicit, private and revealing things than I post here! And things that are sort of experimenting with what I think. Anyway lets just say the summer I was 16, I had a boyfriend, we were real, real close, mostly physically, but also emotionally, but not at as deep a level as maybe all that. It was my first emotionally intimate relationship with a guy. And we experimented with sex, doing anything but it. And a lot of anything but it, too. All summer. But at the start of school we both knew that we were just going to be friends, not life long lovers, we had stuff in mind that was different for life, we both knew it and talked about it and I could tell he was curious about other girls, and we kinda decided to be friends. No hard feelings, and really I still love him and all but not like I want to spend my life with him, and I know he still has feelings for me, but well we both new how we had been for the summer was great but it was time to see what else was out there in life. I think I wanted someone more nerdy and intellectual, and he wanted someone more social and girly.
    So there I was, a free girl. But also now used to having a guy and to being physical with another person rather than just in my mind or by myself. And I wasn't in a real hurry to be in another relationship. But I had needs and well there is the internet. I've been all over the internet, sorry not into costume play or thinking I am a furry dog or gamer princess, but I did like something called Stickam. It is a place where you have your own channel and you can talk to who ever shows up, and have music and see each other on video, its kinda like having your own TV channel on the web. And you can kick people off your channel if you don't like the way they look, or talk or act, and you can make your channel private and do what ever. I did whatever. And apparently my channel wasn't as private as I thought. There were only 4 people on this one time when I went private, and I could see their  streams and all of us were doing "whatever". Three guys and one girl and me. Watching each other doing whatever. It was hot. We all finished and chatted and eventually closed our streams and went to bed. Wasnt really a big deal to me. Yes I know I am a slut. Deal with it. It wasnt the first time I had done that either. But it was the first time I had been recorded and then later blackmailed and threatened and exposed to my parents and then the police.
   Apparently one of the people recorded me. And I found out later that people go on stickam and instead of having a real stream of them, they just play a video of someone else doing whatever, to get you to think you are safe.
    A week later a guy pm'd me saying he had a recording of me on stickam and that if I didnt do it again for him he was going to post it. I did it again. Yea stupid I know. Now there are at least 2 recordings and in the second one he had me do stuff that is not so nice. Sharpies dont go there. Nuf said.
     So I though it was over but it wasnt, but I wouldn't do it again. My mom got an email. And my Dad. And my brother and sister!!!! Oh fuck, it was so humiliating, I still cry remembering it. I was such a dirty worthless, stupid piece of shit. Videos of me masturbating emailed to everybody I loved. Raped. I know that maybe being physically held down and violated probably sounds worse, but this I couldn't even fight back.
   My dad called the police, that was humiliating too, having to work with them. And they never caught the guy. They even said that I was lucky because since I was underage I could be charged with producing child pornography! Of myself!?!?  But they didnt want to do that. Lucky, oh yea.
     Obviously I am pretty much over it by now, cause here I am talking about it, but why I am talking about it is because I think that it was something that was sort of a downturn for me, where I started to go in the wrong direction in how I was thinking and acting.  I went though a lot with it, I even had "those kind of thoughts". I turned into a psycho bitch/sweet little manipulative girl bipolar baby. I "acted out". I hurt people. I hurt myself. And I think that it was something that maybe added so much stress to my mom's life that her cancer was worse because of it, and thats really my secret, that I did that to my mom. None of the things I did and told about on this blog have been secret to the people around me, family, friends, friends of friends, the people who hang out down town, but that thought has been. That thought will probably be hard to get rid of.
     Like I said at the begining of this post, I have plenty of support, and I am waking up, growing up and I am doing OK. Really. I just had to tell all of my story. This may be my last post on this blog, I don't know yet. Like my dad says though, when you turn off the computer, real life magically appears!
     Thank you for your love and support, I wish I could give it back somehow.



Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Growing up

      I'm waking up more and more as I work through the whole mom dying thing. I'm finding myself having happy moments when I don't feel the weight of it on me, when I feel I am coming to terms with it. It will never not be horrible, but I know I will be happy again. That is such a good thing to know. And my mom wanted that so bad for me too. My last year was such a disaster, and she spent so much of her limited energy on me. The last months of her life was the closest we ever were, or that I could ever imagine being with someone else. She died, but she also gave me my life back before she did. I had been going so wrong and she found the perfect way to shock me back into my real self, and reinforced it by being willing to be my friend and demand the same of me, rather than being "MOM" and then dying to leave me in guilt and shame. God mom you were the greatest mom even when you stopped.
      Before the last year, my life was simple and safe. I was a good kid, had friends, a happy family and very comfortable life. But there is danger in that when you run into bigger issues in life, death, leaving the home and going out into the world, finding yourself. I understand why some people turn to drugs. Its a way of dealing with things that are just too big for you.
     I think that if I hadn't had these experiences of my last year, the big mistakes, the blow up with my parents and then my mom fixing it, her dying, and I had just continued on with the former good girl, comfortable life little me, I would go through life not as strong as I will now.
     I was flirting with a guy the other day.    :)   Been a while. He was a grad student TA and he knew that my mom had died. We started talking and it turned into a long conversation with him telling me stuff about his life and what he wanted to do in it, and it was nice to have this kind of conversation, sort of grown up. The me before this year would have been all in girl mode, self conscious, worrying about what he thought about me, how did I look, talking way too much and so on. But the now me, a girl who had survived lossing her mom, could just sit and listen. I didnt need to care about what he thought, I was stronger, had more of a sense of myself. Yes it is partially a clueless little slut friendship wrecker bipolar bitch, but also someone stronger who knew she could get through anything, and talking to a cute guy was no big thing. And maybe that is a better way to be with guys, not worried or despearate for attention, but simply take it or leave it.
     Of course when he found out that I was 17, it got ackward! What is it with guys? Yes I know its illegal for a 24 year old guy to have sex with a 17 year old girl, but it wasnt even going that way! Why cant he be the same person he was being, when he founds out I am a "little girl"?   :(    Oh well. It was fun feeling like I could be happy and think about guys and play with my hair and look into his eyes for just a bit. And instead of thinking my moms dead, thinking she would be so silly happy knowing I was flirting. I think she would.

Love you mom!

Saturday, November 6, 2010

A walk

   I had a wonderful walk. I needed it too, posting about the day mom died was hard for me. Its been like I have been coming out of a fog since then, and writing about it cleared it up a bit more. It was a beautiful fall day today, in the 60's and a bit of breeze, but warm enough that it felt sort of hot when the sun was out and cool when the clouds blocked it, but not too much either way. And It smelled so good outside too. It reminded me of mom, she loved smells of nature. There is this one curve that has a fig tree right next to the road, and she would go that way even if it was not the closest way, just so she could smell the fig tree when she drove by. One time we were driving down the highway during the crush, when they do the grapes and it smelled so good that she pulled over to the side of the road to just sit and smell it. Someone even stopped to see if we needed help! Mom wasnt afraid to be totally weird if she felt like it. Or even if she didnt feel like it.
     My walk reminded me of other things about mom, and it relates to things people are asking me about her. And it reminded me about a walk her and I had this summer when she was still feeling ok. I had told about how she said she didnt want to be my mom anymore and how we would both pretend to be other people so we could make up reasons to be together and not be doing the mom daughter thing. We did it a few times, but it didnt take long for us to find a way to be her and me with out the mom daughter thing. We were more like real close friends, and we talked about stuff that most moms and daughters are scared too. We talked about sex stuff, men, what we wanted to be, her life before having kids, and her first marriage and the stuff that still affected her and the family from that, all kinds of things, but more honestly that we ever had before.
     Several people are curious about my mom and scientology, so here are some things. My mom joined it after she came back from europe and while she was still a teenager. She had left home at 18, so I think it was when she was 19. Her parents were already in it but she thought it was a cult and was out to get things from her mom and dad, but then she found that she liked some of the ideas and joined. And she stayed a member of it till she died. She was 54, so that is like 35 years.
     She was married to a man who was and still is a scientologist, before my dad, and he is my big sisters dad. My dad is not a scientologist. He says if he were required to label his beliefs he would probably be closest to buddhist. Scientology tried to get him to join a long time ago, but he said they didnt want to listen to what he had to say, and only wanted him so they could use it to make them look good. He does mental health research and they could say look at him and he's with us. My dad says they want to control people too much for him. This has caused some problems for the family, because the scientologists in it want to do stuff in scientology, but they have a rule that you can not do things if you know people who dont like scientology. My dad didnt say he didnt like it and in fact finds the ideas interesting. My grandpa and my dad will talk about it for hours, and its not like my dad is against it, but it just isn't for him.
     Scientology has something called operating thetan, and all the scientologists want to do it. My grandma did it to level 7 and my grandpa to level 3, but once my mom married my dad no one in the family could do operating thetan anymore. My grandma couldn't go to their ship, grandpa couldnt do anymore, my mom couldnt do anymore, and the worse was that my sisters dad couldnt do any more, and if he wasnt careful they would kick him out or make him no longer see his daughter!!! I think people should believe whatever they want if they dont hurt other people, but scientology doesnt like it that people dont believe it. Mom had to be careful that she never put her first child in the position of losing her father. This was all before I was even born! Maybe now that mom is dead, shelly's dad can finally do it. I dont really see why he put up with the rules, but I sort of do also. My mom taught me some of the operating thetan stuff, because she always said that you needed to know stuff in life to survive, and she wanted to protect me from life by making sure I knew the important stuff.
     And that brings me back to the walk I was remembering, when mom taught me how to do operating thetan stuff. We had been talking about people and how they acted and stuff when she told me she would show me some stuff that would help with people. The first thing she did was to tell me that she was going to make a picture in her mind and when she said "now" I was to tell her what it was. She said to be like in the way you get after a good meditation, quiet inside but super aware of what was going on around. So we did that for a while, her making pictures, really just like one thought or emotion, and me saying what I thought it was. To look at her with your eyes, it was like she had no expression or anything, but after a while I could tell what it was. Happy :), Sad, GRRR angry. She was good at it, she could really make you see what it was she wanted you too.  It wasnt like you see really but you know what it is and can tell it is there. Like seeing something invisible.
    We did that several times until I could get it alot, and then she told me that now I needed practice seeing people having pictures, and seeing who was having them. She told me to go shopping and sit for a while and watch the people around me and see if I could see their pictures and if I could spot who was looking at them. And I could sometimes, some people were like in a cloud! It was funny because now that she mentioned it it was kind of obvious. Some people were more quiet inside, but some were just like they were trying to watch 3 tv shows at once. I cant really usually see what there pictures are, but I do get a feeling about what they are. Mom said that it is an important skill to be able to see the part of a person that is the life, and to be able to see pictures of other people and tell whose they are, because sometimes the feelings you get from other peoples pictures can make you think they are your pictures and confuse you. Mom said being able to see pictures and the life in people is almost half of operating thetan. She said the rest is about communication and intention. She had real strong intention so she could make me see her pictures. But she said that intention was something I needed to learn slower, after seeing a lot more of how people use pictures and how they act. The thing she told me to look out for was if it was intention from the life or from something the picture was telling them. She said that intention could be a very powerful thing and needed to come from wanting something good and not from pictures, and that I would learn this from watching people this operating thetan way. I'm not really good at it, but I practice watching people at school. Its really cool to see people this way because its like I know stuff about them that they dont even know. I think people who have too many pictures are like almost disabled, and when you see someone who isnt looking at any, and especially if you and them both notice each other, its like you are connected somehow. I think I would rather be around people who dont use pictures, and I wonder if all scientologists are like that? But if they were why would they have silly rules about who you can know.
    My therapist Greta is one of those people who doesnt have a lot of pictures, she is just really there and quiet. My dad says she is one of the most present people he knows, he says she is in the now and pretty much no where else. She says she has never been a scientologist or any religion except that she is jewish because her mother was, but not because she practices it.
     Mom said we could believe any religion we wanted, but I think that mostly religion is just a way for people to control other people with things they dont understand. I have been to christian church and synogoge too with friends, but mostly churches feel like you have to believe or else and I want to be able to explore more. Mom wouldnt let me go to scientology church. She said I could after I turned 18 if I wanted. I'll be 18 in 5 weeks now, but I think she didnt really want me to. She said that there were some problems right now and it wasnt going right, but her and other people were working on it. I'm real curious to see, but I know that if they tried to get me to follow their rules, there would be problems. I dont understand how people who can see other peoples spirit and invisible pictures, could not fix their problems, but I am learning that there is a lot I am clueless about. So thats what I know about scientology, some really cool, some I dont like at all.

the day

     The day my mom died. Every one has seen it in the movies, someone dying, but its not like that. Its not noble or dramatic or sweet sadness, its ugly, uncontrollable, and is like something is ripped away from you with hidden power you didn't know existed. And I think it is like that for the person dying as well as those who were close to them.
     It was just another day, mom had been having a rough few weeks, she had lost weight and was in bed a lot, but she would have good days when she was up and eating and hanging around in the house, and bad days when she was in bed and didnt talk much. On those days it was like she wasnt really asleep and resting, but just sort of out of it, not making an effort to do anything. We knew she was getting worse, but I still hoped that she would fight her way out of it. But today she was really out of it. She was awake sometimes and would look at me and I would know she was seeing me, but no smile of recognition, no sign of her being able to rest from what she was fighting. Her breathing had gotten sort of hoarse and she looked tired and cold.
     In the early afternoon dad called her doctor, who came by the house and looked at her, and then talked to my dad for a while. After he left Dad called my brother and sister and told them to come to the house.
    By late afternoon is was obvious that something was wrong, she had not been at all really conscious and aware at all of her surroundings since morning. She seemed to be awake, but not really.
     We were all in the bedroom, Dad on the bed with her, sometimes gently saying things to her and stroking her hair. Shelly on a chair on dad's side, by brother on the foot of the bed and me on moms side. She wasnt awake and not asleep, but it was like she was dreaming, and figgiting. Her eyes would move around, looking, sometimes open, sometimes closed, but not recognizing anything we were. Then for a while she was relaxed and seemed asleep, breathing deeply and calm. We all relaxed and just hung out in the room. It was good to see her calm, she seemed to have been fighting so much. We snacked and dad had some classical music on, Bach, moms fav.
     Then she sort of woke with a couple of quick breaths and seemed to be reaching for my dad, who took hold of her, holding her to him. She seemed to be fighting, tense, but breathing slow and shallow, not really conscious, and then she wasnt breathing.
    And in the next moment, oh god, I knew that all the things I ever should have said to her, done for her, asked her, were lost  forever in a way I had never felt before. I suddenly realized what was now gone from my life. A gigantic hole, or more like a gigantic place where nothing could ever be again. Mom wasnt anymore. I'm crying now writing this, but not the way I was then, so deep and hopeless and lost.
     Dad layed with her sobbing, we were all sobbing. There was nothing else to do.  I layed on the bed next to her to and touched her hand for a moment, but SHE WASNT THERE. Oh god.

    It seemed like hours or maybe minutes, it was like a dream you couldnt wake up from, but Dad got up and called the doctor again and called the funeral home. An hour later a van came and they put her in a bag and took her out on a wheeled thing. Mom in a bag on a cart, except she wasnt mom anymore, just something to be taken away. I remember watching them push her through the living room and out the door, and hearing the van leave. I felt like I didnt know who I was or where I was. We all went to sleep later without eating.
     Next day waking up was strange, it only took seconds to remember she was gone, and going out into the house knowing that I couldnt find her if I looked. I started coffee and bacon and pancakes, waffles are fun food. I remember thinking how disrespectful it would be to make waffles. I scrambled eggs, and people woke and came in the kitchen. I think we all cried silently off and on and ate quietly, drank coffee, looked out the windows.
    Dad showered and dressed after a while and left to go to the funeral home, moms doc was a family friend and they met there and drove behind the van to take mom to the crematorium. Mom was funny, when ever death came up, like years before, she always joked and insisted that we burn her and not embalm her, and if we didnt do as she said she would come back and haunt us. I wish she would.
    Dad said that he made sure she was (she? there was nothing of her left but a dead body), she was treated right and that he saw her go into the chamber and the flames start. Then he left and came home. The next day he went back and brought back a little square plastic box with a bag in it that was what was left.
     We took that, her?, up to our vacation house on the coast the next weekend and threw parts of it on her favorite beach, and some into some flower beds in the botanical gardens. She had said to. Funny, its not ashes, they dont blow in the wind, more like sand and chunks, but we spread her out like she had wanted. I dont know if she was there or what. I had always though that I would be able to tell if she was, and she said she would, but its blank for me. I want it so much too, some sign of her. Some life of her still. But nothing.
     Its sunny cloudy right now with the softest of breeze, not cold, nice day for a walk. It feels funny to post this story of such a sad thing, on what could be a nice relaxing saturday. I have too. I am going for a walk now.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

As the pendulum swings

     So I told my therapist that I thought I was bipolar or something and she laughed at me. Not like at me but like I told her something that she really appreciated and it made her happy to hear. I was pretty serious about it too, and worried that maybe I was seriously messed up, more than I understood. So she had a good hearty laugh and then said yes you are bipolar and so is everyone else on planet earth. I think that she was glad that I was recognizing it.  I've been all hyper for the last few weeks after being really depressed and sad, and I'm posting all this crazy stuff and getting mad at people. But she says that what I am going through makes perfect sense for what is going on with my life right now and that I should just let go of what I think for a while and just enjoy the ride. Like step back and not judge what is going on, but to just have the experience. She said I should look for times that I add to the swinging of the pendulum and learn skills at slowing it, and really these things are just part of growing up and getting life experiences.
     I'm real hyper today, I cant focus. I wanted to keep writing about my mom, but I am so drained too that I cant even think or write. And there is the internet factor. It feels real good to get stuff out of me by writing about it, but the internet is not real life. My dad says it can be dangerous, because the things you get back from it aren't real life things, and people can get all involved in stuff that is not important or real. He says the best thing about a computer is that it has a power button. You just push it (off)  and suddenly real life appears!
     So I promised more about my mom, and I'm sure I will, but for now I need to push the button. The internet speeds up my pendulum.

Friday, October 29, 2010

I don't want to be your mom anymore!

    I know it sounds bad. But Its really good, but she really said that! And it was the best thing that ever happened to me in my life.
    OK, so in my last two posts I really told about how horrible I was, to her, my dad, my friends and really to myself too. And there is more stuff too from last year even before she got sick that I havent told. But the stuff when she was sick is more what this is all about.  I mean screaming at the top of my lungs mean things at my mom, when she was sick, slamming doors and being disgusting around the house, and being such a total total ultimate bitch.
     Looking back it is hard to believe I acted like I did. And impossible to understand. Its like I went crazy for a half a year. Well really 3/4. But why. I know my moms illness wasnt as big a thing in my mind as it should have been or is now looking back. Life at home was good too, we had a nice house and a pool and cars for each of us and bought our food at whole foods, not the cheap places. I mean I know kids who have never bought a starbuck, and only had one when one of the richer kids bought it for them, and then you dont want to do that because it makes them feel like they cant afford stuff, which they cant, but they are not bad people because of it!
    Anyway spoiled little bitch me, glaring at my parents when they tried to be nice and find out what was going on with me. Closing the door to my room and cutting them off. Staring at them when they would talk and just not answer or say anything, almost daring them to get mad. And the outbursts, yelling at them, getting them to yell back. I think I was trying to be impossible. But I still dont understand it.
   And the three big screw ups, real stuff that will affect my life for a while. Two of them below, and the one last year that there is NO reason to talk about, but really was when it started. Why did I act like this after all those years of being the good girl, the baby of the family, getting all the attention I could want. Even to the point that my brother and sister maybe even felt a bit pushed to the side. I was good too, my parents were proud of me and it was all going so well. Why did I have to screw it all up?
    Someday maybe I will know, but for now I want to talk about my mom. Like a play, the stage is set, Chloe, the psychobitch from hell, (and dont forget mega slut!), and her mom, angel from heaven with the wisdom of the ages, supported by the dad, a rock of stableness. And the scene, late spring early summer, Chloe had just embarrassed the family again, and caused major upsets to everyone in her life, and is acting completely psychotic!
    It was maybe a week after graduation, which didnt go that well with my attitude, but school was over and the stress should have been off and we could all settle down to the summer. But I was still going, and maybe even worse. We had yelled at each other the day before, mom and me, and getting up this morning was going to be tense, seeing her, and as I was banging around in my room, going through piles of clothes looking for something to get dressed in, my mom knocks and comes in. I say WHAT. ?? She looks at me real direct, like straight in my eyes till I am staring back and we are locked together, and says it.  I DONT WANT TO BE YOUR MOM ANYMORE.
    Fuck. This is going to be the argument of all arguments, if she is starting like this. She said get dressed, brush your teeth and then we are going to talk. So shorty sweats and top, a couple of hair clips and fresh panties and mouth, and I am ready to fight, but I'm not looking forward to it, this sounds like things have changed, and maybe I have screwed things up so bad that they are kicking me out of the family or something. I'm a little sad knowing that they dont love me anymore, but I'm going to fight them anyway. Fuck them. I'm thinking maybe I can go live with my sister and her husband for the summer, they have a new house and I can help out as payment for staying there, but really my sister is sort of pissed at me right now. First I have always been the one who took "her" attention. She was like 8 or 9 when I was born and had to help mom, or find something to do while mom took care of me, or be a good girl, while me and my brother were babies and toddlers. She joked about it, but you knew it was a little bit true and she probably had some hidden stuff about it. So well maybe I can go live with grandma and grandpa in Palm Springs, they always love me, and I'm old enough to drive now, and maybe they would let me spend the summer. But they are old and maybe mom wouldnt want to dump me on them. I dont know.
     I go into the living room and moms on the couch like she wants me to sit on it with her, and she has made two mochas, one for her and one for me. Strange. I sit on the far end, as far as I can get from her, but she leans over with my mocha and hands it to me and says take a sip, I made it the way you like with lots of choc syrup. OK now I know shes going to fuck with my mind. Is this my last drink before whatever? Nice knowing you chlo, when your finished the door is over there? And oh yeah leave all your clothes and stuff, because we paid for it? So I sip and its IS just like I like it, and I feel like crying, and I'm trying not to show it, but I feel like I'm going to miss this and everything and I'm a bit sad. But I'm going to be brave and take whatever she does.
     Then she says it again, but kinda soft, "Chloe I dont want to be your mom anymore". Oh here it comes, fuck fuck fuck,    then " I love you so much, and me being "THE MOM" and you being "THE DAUGHTER", is just not working for either of us. I want us to be something different, maybe more like who we really are without the labels, and things expected of us."
    WTF?? And I flash on how true it is, like we are being these things to each other that is not who we really are. My heart is beating so hard, she loves me?!? She does! Not like I thought she didn't, but I am getting it that she really does! And my eyes start raining so hard you can hear the drops hitting the couch!
     She says "what I am thinking is that we have a time out for a couple of hours everyday, when you can be who ever you want and I can be whoever I want, except neither of us can be mom or daughter. Maybe we can make up some strange reason why we are stuck together in the house, like you are a rock star and your car broke down on the road, and I'm a wealthy heiress with the only place a rock star could stay, or I'm the house keeper here and your my cousin from hondourus who I am hiding from immagration, or something like that different every day, and we can be together and not have to be what we are "SUPPOSED TO BE".        "Deal"??
   And I am crying so hard I cant talk, but I nod my head up and down real big, and try to look at her through my tears.
     We sat there real quiet for a while and sipped our mochas and I was letting myself chill from all the rush and tension I had built up. Then after a bit, I scooted over next to her and snuggled against her arm. I told her real quiet that I loved her too and was so sorry. She hugged me real tight, and said be thinking who you are going to be, because we will start in a few minutes. And she was all smiling down at me, and god I was feeling sooo good.
    So, theres more, and I'm going to call that post "my mom shows me who she really is by not being my mom or anyone I have ever known". Or something like that.


Of course we know she dies, just a couple months later, but this was one of the happiest times in my life, and I learned SO MUCH from her in those short months.

My Mom was the most amazing woman in the world.

More I DON'T want to talk about

     Theres a road up in the hills that is a dead end that guys go to party or take girls too. Guys call it "the lane", and its actually a nice little road with trees along it and places on the side to park and even some views of the valley. I've been there.
    I dont know if I can tell this or not. But I'll type it out and see if I click on publish. This is another story about why some other people are mad at me. Real mad.
    It was spring time now and close to graduation and things were sort of normal at home, except my mom was traveling a lot to see doctors and get treatment. Dad and Mom would drive down to Stanford, the hospital and she would see her doctors and then they would have lunch or dinner in the city before coming home. It was like they had been out on a date when they did this, they would come home and be holding hands or being especially nice to each other. But mom was away alot, I think she was sort of shutting down her business too and seeing her clients, so I had time to myself after school. Sometimes she would be gone overnight and if dad was working in the field, I was free to do what ever.
   Hard, hard hard. How can I say this and not sound so incredibly stupid. I'm still a virgin, but I will do stuff. If I like a guy and I trust him and stuff,  I wont "make him suffer". I know how guys work, and I know how to help them be happy and relax. I'm not frigid, or a prude or think sex is bad. And there are ways to both be happy without screwing. I sometimes do those things. Presidents do them, or at least get them done to them. I like it done to me and I like doing it to guys. Think popsicles and ice cream cones. I'm a cone. My bf and I from last summer did it a lot, make ourselves happy together. A LOT. So I kinda know how pretty well, and I dont feel guilty about that either, cause it was private. And guys really cant think about anything else until they get it, or off! And afterward was the best because we could just talk and relax and it was a nice feeling to be close like that.
    OK. So it was friday afternoon, moms out of town, dads out till late, and I'm hanging around in town with you know who, x, who was going to give me a ride home, when the guys showed up. I think alot of people know who they are, but I'm not so stupid as to even put any names on the internet. "A" who is "x's" bf, (Well WAS), "B" who is my ex bf, and "C" their usual third in the crew. So we are standing around and talking and joking and its like real casual because they all have gf's and arent trying to get anywhere with me, just talking, but x needs to go home and I want to hang out somemore, so the guys say they will drive me home, so she leaves. And its still cool because we are just talking and its not like I am alone with one guy, so the guys cant get in trouble with their gf's, because they were just going to give me a ride and none of them were alone with me. So after a while we get in the car and are starting to drive, and we are talking and joking and stuff, and when we pass the road that turns off into the hills where the lane is, B my ex bf says "I bet you miss going up there" joking of course because we used to and now he has a new gf and I dont have a bf at the moment. So hes just teasing me about that, which is cool.
     And really it is because we still like each other alot and maybe sort of love each other, but love like in bother and sister or friends, and not like we would ever do sexual stuff again. I even hooked him up with his gf now. Sneaky me, after we broke up, and it was mutual because we both talked about it and about how we were different and sort of wanted different things. He was the kind of guy who hung with a crowd, but wasnt the leader type, and would probably get a good job right out of college and never have any adventures. He was a real nice guy and smart, but I knew I would be bored with him someday, and he knew it too, so we broke up while it was still good, and I told him that I knew this girl who was watching him and liked him. And then I told her that he was sorta into her, not that he really said that, but it made it so that they got interested in each other and I was all like cool with it and supporting him and her and not being wierd about it. So they hooked up and were happy.
   So anyway he is teasing me about the old us, and its like cool and funny and joking, but then A says well maybe I should drive you two up there so you can remember old times, and hes joking too, and C says DO IT Do It! All joking, so A turns around and goes back to the turn off and drives all of us up to "THE LANE" And the guys are laughing and its funny to me to because these guys are like brothers and friends not guys I would ever do anything with and I felt perfectly safe with them. A was X's bf! And B and C had serious gf's.
    So we're sitting there in A's Tahoe, A and B in the front and C and me in the back, and still laughing about how funny it is to be up at the lane like this, and I joke that I know why A drove us up here, its because he wants to do gay making out with B! And I tell C that lets watch the two bro crushs make out.
And they are like all embarrassed at the idea, and even with sitting up front together I think, so B turns around on the front seat on sort of standing on it facing us in back and pulls down his shorts and wiggles himself at us, or really me, saying "No, this is what you really want to see!" And is funny as hell because just like on the nude beach his weenie is teenie, its like it barely sticks outside his hair. (It gets big just fine, but its always small at first). And the other guys are busting up, and so am I, because, dude, no one wants to see that! I mean it was soooo funny him showing it when it was nothing!
     And then C says "no, this is what you want to see, and pulls his shorts down, and hes got like a half boner and hes holding his hand at the base and waving it back and forth like hes got a baseball bat for a dick. And A and C are busting up, because there I am sitting next to a guy with his dick out! Not that I mind at all really because it IS funny!
     You know I am a really sexual girl. Still a virgin, but I think a lot. You'd be amazed at what I think. But really even after the end of this story, I still dont feel like a slut. I've only done sexual things with 5 guys, and never had real sex even. And 3 of the 5 guys are the guys in the car. I played with a guy when I was 12, we both touched each other, and fooled around for like a half hour, I got into a real serious make out with a guy when I was 15 and that was the first time I saw a guy squirt stuff, and the first time a guy got me off. And ALL the stuff me and B did last summer  :)   . Thats it excecpt for what happened at the lane. At least in real life. I did do some stuff on the internet, but that doesnt count the same. And kissing and making out above the belt doesnt count at all. I know some people think boobs are sex, but thats only in the sixth grade!
     So anyway C is waving is half hard weenie all proud and stuff, so I lean over and open my mouth and bare my teeth and make like I'm going to bite it off! And go Chomp Chomp with my teeth! and I thought the guys up front were going to pee their pants like little girls, they were laughing so hard! They said youd better put that away while you have the chance! And C is starting to pull up his shorts, but I say No wait, and I leaned over and kissed the head, and say there I wanted to apologize for scaring the little man.
   I dont know why I did it. I just did it. I was just playing around, joking with my friends, I didnt even really mean it to be sexual, but suddenly is was so quite. A and B were just staring and looking amazed like they had seen something they never expected to see in their whole lives. You know when people say that its like there is electricity in the air? Well this was like that, it was like the whole atmosphere in the car was super tight and ready to burst, and tingling. And the way the guys were, so quite and so intense, I suddenly knew that I had some like magic power over them. It was like I knew I could control them or make them do anything I wanted, kinda like they were now hypnotized or under a spell.
   C is not a guy I would normally hook up with. He and his gf were like super serious and everyone expected them to get married, and both their families were convervative and old countryish. But he had stopped pulling up his pants and he was suddenly a lot harder. A and C are just staring at his thing and at me next to it, and seeing them like that made me want to keep them in the spell, so I real slowly leaned back over to C and held him by the base with my hand and lowered my mouth all the way that I could, and went up and down a couple times real real slow. As was like "fuck", and B said "shit, dude, oh man" Just a minute before we had be laughing so hard and it was all light, but now it was like we were all 4 in some little bubble where the only thing that existed where these intense feelings. I could tell that C would lose control real fast, he was tightening up his whole body. I felt soooo powerful for making him like that and for having the other guys so intense, and I was getting this rush of sexual feeling, like I really needed someone to do something to me too. And it was like it was safe too in this little bubble of time. I said just to anyone " I want someone to do this to me", meaning the girl version of what I was doing to C. A said to B "you do it dude, you know your way around on her", and he get out of the front and comes back and opens the door on my side and then hes sliding my shorts and panties off, and I think he can smell me, and remembers it, and just goes for it on me, just right down in and his tounge is all over, and I'm like loosing control. I look up at A and say, I havent seen yours yet, so he gets out and comes over to the side C is on, and drops his shorts and is already half hard and rubbing it up and down, and I look up at him and tell him to come closer, and I put him in my mouth for a bit, and he is using his hand still too, when I feel C start to tense, and as I back up from A, C creams my hair and cheek and his shirt and maybe even the ceiling of A's car! And A sees C squirting and starts to squirt too onto the ground and on the seat next to C and a little on C's leg! And almost on my face!
   Then suddenly like almost while they are still squirting we hear a car coming, and everyone scrambles to get back in their pants and in the car, and A is starting the car, and we're driving off. But its only some farmworkers in a pickup.
     It was a super quiet ride, no one said one word literally, until they said goodbye when they dropped me off.
    So.     THAT WAS LESS THAN TEN MINUTES OF MY 17 PLUS YEARS OF LIFE. Maybe even 5 or 7 minutes, and nobody got killed, no family fortunes got gambled away, or spent on drugs. No one got arrested or sick or hurt in anyway, in that little tiny few minutes. Two boys had an ejaculation, and I wasnt even really touching them when it happend, although I caused them. I didnt get anything but messy wet. And I dont know if B even had a chance to get hard. Ten little minutes. How can I be the super slut I am now famous for all over the Napa valley? And all these familys and people so mad at me and each other too.
    People found out. Shit hit the blades big time. I'm not really sure how anyone found out, but I suspect that C who is catholic and so is his family and his gf, maybe told his gf, who told her mom and sisters, who told her dad, who went charging over to C's house to kill his dad and him for cheating on his daughter. And then it seemed like everyone knew. My mom found out because one of her clients is in town and told her that she was hearing bad rumours about me and maybe she should talk to me, and told her the rumours, which were now about some gangbang and a "bunch of guys" and some of them getting an infection! And no, you can not go and say no thats not what really happend because then you would have to admit to things that people still would not understand like they really were. It was ten fucking minutes of teenagers being a little sexual among friends. But in peoples minds it was something else I cant even believe people think like. But yes the "repercussions" were really bad.
   A and his gf broke up, and that was x, who was like my best friend, and her parents are real christian and think I am the devil now, I cant even text her cause they blocked my number! and she hates me anyway now.  C and his gf are still broke up, of course,  but B and his gf are still together. Weird. Whole families of people now hate each other and really no one in the families did anything. And my parents are not as welcome with some people, and I am like a non person. People "dont see me" the rare times I "appear in public".
   But its after this that I sort of lost control of how I was acting at home and started to be a real problem to my mom and dad. My mom and I got into a real screaming fight that lasted for hours, really all day, till we were both crying and screaming and then just so tired that we locked ourselves in our rooms. I think I cried all night and didnt sleep.
   So, I've already started writing my next post, and its going to be called "I don't want to be your mom anymore".  But please know that I am writing about things in the past, so, well, worse shit happens but its sort of getting over now.

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

things I DON'T want to talk about

     There are some things I don't want to talk about. I've been writing on this blog like I'm someone who has had bad stuff happen and you would want to be sorry for, but dont feel too sorry before you know the whole story about me and my mom and what kind of person I am. I need people to read what I say and feel sorry for me a little bit and understand me, or really just for me to understand me really. The people who I have hurt probably don't need to understand me any better than they already do. And my mom would have forgave me anything automatically. Even after I went all psychobitch on her at just the wrong time in her life. Thats what makes it so hard, and why I dont want to talk about it.
     Greta says its fine to have subjects that we dont talk about. All I have to do is tell her I dont want to talk about something and she writes it down on a list of things we wont talk about. But I know what she is doing really, collecting the juicy stuff that has the start of all my stuff. So she writes down the thing I dont want to talk about when I mention it and then reads me the list of things she has so far, like she's just checking to see if she got everything, and usually what happens it then I start talking about one of the things on the list and using up the whole session on it. Its supposed to be one hour, but we always go at least one and a half or two.
     So here goes, stuff I dont want to believe I did. What I am thinking about is around the time we found out my mom might be really sick. She had been going to the doctor more often than normal last year, but then in January, after christmas was over but all of us home for dinner one weekend, mom and dad told us that she had cancer and it wasnt one of the easy ones. So yeah we were all like youll beat it mom, will all support you and find you the best doctors and it will all be fine. We didnt even think she would die, we thought it would be real bad and she would lose her hair and be all sick but eventually she would get better and we could all be proud of ourselfs and her. Didnt work that way though, even with what we did, but that was what we thought, it would be real hard on mom, and we would step up and do our best.
     It was a month or so later that the college admission letters or rejection letters came out. Mom was still just fine, no sign of her really being sick and it seemed like things were back to normal for all of us. I'm a smart kid, always had an easy time in school, teachers thought I was smart, although I didnt really get the grades I could have. I graduated with a 3.89 gpa, not bad, would have been a dream grade for some kids, but not the grades Reed, and Stanford wanted to see. I got rejected from Reed, the school I had these dreams about. You read the Odyssey as a group of the whole freshman class for the first half of the year and all the classes relate to what you read in it. A lot of interesting and very smart people went there and I dreamed about going there and getting the kind of education that would make me a great writer or something, and maybe meeting some special super intelligent and good looking guy to make a life with and have this perfect little life. Its the kind of place that celebrates creative and a little different people. They didnt want me.
   Mom and Dad dreamed about me going to stanford. My brother and sister both didnt. I was the last chance for one of their kids to go to the school they wanted most for their kids. And really if I would have disiplined myself in highschool and got 4.0 or above (most kids there were ABOVE 4.0) I could have had a better chance. I felt a little like I had let them down, and a lot like my dream life wouldnt happen. Of course I did get into several UC campus's, which is not bad really, a lot of kids dont even get that and have to go to state colleges or JC. But I felt like I had screwed up.
   The real screw ups came a bit later, I really did screw up, making not getting into my first colleges look like nothing at all.
   Mom had been fine for a while, it was like she wasnt sick at all, but one week she  was feeling tired and cranky, and I was stressed trying to make sure I got through with high school, and I didnt think too much about asking if I could go to a party with some people I knew.  Mom and dad always let me do stuff if they knew the people and I said I would be good. They trusted me. And I was the good girl. I was the girl that all the other kids thought was the goody goody who wouldnt do ANYTHING. I was still a virgin, I wouldnt try pot, I didnt get drunk or dis my parents. I was happy innocent little Chole. Not really, but thats what people thought. And really I didnt do bad stuff, just tried new things sometimes.
     So I went to this party with two other girls and 3 guys. It was one of the guys houses, and his parents were away and we were planning on kind of pretending that we were grown up and have a dinner party and some wine too. We were going to cook and sit at the table like we were some big shot friends, like we saw our parents doing. Except some other people heard about it and that his parents were out of town and showed up and asswipe my guy let them in, and it was a different kind of party. I was pissed off because I was looking forward to it and maybe a little minor bit of hook up with my guy. That was kind of the plan. Instead it turned into a drinking party with a bunch of teenagers. Not the sophisticated evening I fantasized.
     Living where we do its not too hard to get wine. We all know what wine our parents think is shit and wont notice a few bottles missing. and a lot of people have cases of wine pushed into a corner in the garage or something, that we could borrow from. I had a bottle to myself, and some vodka too, and maybe more wine. My guy wasnt really paying me much attention and I was getting sort of sick to my stomach, so I said I was going to pee. After I peed I just walked out the back door so no one would see and decided I would walk home. I was thinking fuck him, asshole, fuck them all. Yeah right well I did sort of. They lived pretty close to 29 so I walked over to it and started along it towards home. (which was maybe 4 or 5 miles). And I was doing real good, every time I stumbled or started to walk into the highway I would just say whoopsy and change direction. I was real proud of myself, that I would walk so drunk and still keep going. I did fall down a couple of times, and wander a bit too close to traffic, but so far so good. Until the car with the pretty lights on top stopped in front of me.
     They looked so pretty, red and blue and flashing. And I wasnt driving so I thought I would just tell him that I wasnt driving and he would say oh ok and I would keep on walking. But when he walked up to me and I started to talk, I got this funny rushing feeling and instead of my words coming out, puke shot out all over. I remember thinking that is not what I wanted to say, and seeing bits of food on his shiny cop shoes. And I tried to talk again and puked more. Then I started to cry. And puke. And then I was on my knees puking in the dirt and thinking he would help me and maybe wipe my mouth, but he was using the radio to call for back up, and I know what that means! He was going to get some more cops and they would tazer me and maybe touch me, and take me to jail. So I curled up in a ball on the ground, in my puke crying and saying NO, NO and crying.
     Really all he was doing was calling for a woman so there wouldnt be any question about his handling of me. And while he waited he knelt next to me and told me it would be ok, but I didnt believe him. I should have, because later I found out he was a good guy with kids like me and had seen too many kids killed in drunk driving. The woman cop though was PISSED off at me like you wouldnt believe. She called me a stupid spoiled little rich brat, and said I was going to jail and then she would find who gave me the alcohol and send them to prison. She put me in her car pretty rough and told me if I puked that would be it. I did puke once more, but I did it down the inside of my shirt so it didnt really get on her car.
     They took me back to the police station and called my parents and wrote up reports and stuff, and asked me where I got the alcohol. And here is why a WHOLE LOT of people dont like me anymore. I told them. Its not like anyone got arrested either, it was in a private home and the kids were underage, but the cops didnt think it would go anywhere to arrest them. But they did tell the parents when they came home, and call all the other parents they could, and word got around town and the parents were embarrased in front of the people they knew. Now you know why alot of people didnt get to go on senior trip.       Me.        Stupid slut snitch. (really said)
     Some of the guys had worked to pay for it themselves, and a whole lot of people were looking forward to it. The people that did go hate me because the people that didnt go would have made it fun, but weren't there, and the ones that stayed home hate me because they missed one of the big things for graduation. My nick name is now chloeshit, among certain people, a play on my name that I will prob never loose.
    Anyway my mom and dad showed up at the police station and I was starting to be less drunk, and my mom, she runs up to me and hugs me and holds my head on her shoulder and is trying to sooth me! And I'm covered in puke and road dirt and snot and tears and its getting all over her and she isnt noticing at all. And I'm crying again, because I feel so stupid and embarassed and worthless and drunk and and and and.
     They took me home. The guy cop was real nice and gave my dad a garbage bag so my puke wouldnt get on his leather seats. I remember the woman cop snearing and saying bitchy things under her breath, but so I could hear.
    My mom and dad got me home and showered and into bed and all. And later I got a talking too, not like normal when they would ask me about things and discuss what I had done wrong, but more like lecture. I think they were really disappointed in me. And worried too. I was dissappointed in myself too, but also kind of proud of myself for having the experience and the story to tell that would maybe make me seem a little cooler or something. Turns out its not cool to puke on people, snitch on people, or drink too much. I had my car taken away, was grounded, and told that I owed chores until they were felt that I had made it up to them.
     Thats kinda one thing I dont even like to remember, my drunken stupidity, much less talk about. The only people who think its cool are losers.  But really I do want to talk about it. Some kids dads would have beat them for what I did, and the mom treat them like dirt from then on, but I didnt really learn my lesson right away.
     I was going to talk about some other things that I dont want to talk about, and that bother me, but I changed my mind for now. But I didn't turn all good after this, I turned worse, and treated my mom real shitty, and I CAN'T talk about that right now. But you get the idea, my moms sick with cancer and I am treating her like shit, when I was going to be all helping and caring. Now you know why I'm in therapy.

Sunday, October 24, 2010


     I posted on facebook about how its raining and I should go read a book or do homework or meditate rather than surfing for clothes and amusing stuff. My dad meditates. He has this spot in the yard thats kinda off in a corner where he sits if the weather is nice and "does his hour". Hes meditated as long as I can remember. When I was little I remember him sitting in his office at home, on the floor with his legs crossed just looking at his desk. I thought it was funny that he would look at his desk for so long, my mom would tell me not to bother him, but he said I was welcome to come in the room and stuff when he was meditating as long as I wasnt too noisy. He said that he could hear everything anyway and it wasnt like he was asleep and would get woken up, it was just he was trying to be real quiet inside. And the stuff I would do or the noises I made were good practice for him to be quiet with. When I got older I understood and meditate sometimes my self. He told me its really simple, you just sit and be there quietly and let your thoughts happen but practice not adding to them or getting into them, but just sort of watch them happen and let go of them until they stop and everything is quiet inside. He said that sometimes you get to a state where you are super aware of everything and feel real happy but also so still inside, and its good to be that way sometimes. Not all the time, but then later when you are all worked up and stressed you can remember it and use it as a reference and get control of yourself.
     When I was like 3 or 4 I would go in with him being real good and quiet and sit next to him, but I didnt have more than 30 seconds of patience! But sometimes I would climb on his lap and lie across his legs or curl up and day dream about stuff. I used to think maybe I could sit on my dads lap when he was meditating and we would fly off to a different world where the animals could all talk, and people could fly in the air and things were real nice all the time. Sometimes I would fall asleep and dream and then wake up later in my bed.
    My dad is a real quiet person, but not like he is withdrawn, but like he is in a quiet space looking out at things. He is really observant about things that go on around him, hes like always got this little bit of a smile, like he is amused at all the activity around him, but happy in his quiet place watching. I think he could smirk at a nuclear explosion.
    My mom had this too, her own safe space she worked out of. Its like both of them had this way of making things around them go right and be happy and calm. Now that shes gone the world seems more hectic and unstable. I guess I need to learn some things.
    Sometimes my mom and dad would meditate together, sitting facing each other with their eyes closed. They would stay that way for their hour and afterwards you could almost feel them glowing from how calm they were.
     Its like the stuff my grandma taught us kids when we were little and stayed with her for the summer. She would have us sit in chairs across from each other and the game was to be perfectly happy just to sit there and not figgit. First with our eyes closed, and then looking at the other person. And then later she taught us how to practice talking without getting distracted by things people would say, or how to be in charge of the conversation by saying ok or whatever when the other person was done and then going on with our part. She called it trs for "training routines". and if we interupted people or didnt listen to them or let other people be rude to us, she would remind us to keep our trs in. My grandma is cool like my mom. You can say anything to her, like oh grandma a boy touched my boobs at the dance, and she wouldnt freak, shes just say yeah, tell me about that. She didnt make you feel bad or stupid about stuff. Shes getting old now, and grandpa too, and I was all worried about them dieing and what I would do if they did, but they are still alive. It was someone else I should have worried about.
     My mom said she started meditating when she was 15, and read all about zen and stuff, and even left her body one time. That sounds like dieing to me, but it would be cool if you could do that and come back. Some people say that when people die, they often come back in spirit form and talk to the people they loved and let them know they are ok. I wish my mom would do that. I'm crying right now thinking about that. But maybe she has and I was just so not quiet inside that I couldnt hear her, and thats one of the reasons I am thinking about meditating. I didnt say enough goodbyes or stuff when I knew she was dieing but still alive. I think I didnt want to believe it. And now its too late. But we talked about how she was really going to die and how she said it was ok to be real sad for a while but that I would be ok after a while. She said love doesnt die. Just bodies.
     Funny, rain falling outside, rain falling from my eyes.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

So seriously

    I noticed that the most important things about me are at the bottom of the blog, its like the first post should be a sticky because its why I am doing this, so read my first post first and then up in sequence or stuff I say will not make sense! Not that anyone is reading this. I hope not yet cause I'm still figuring things out. Its like its been a month now since my mom died and the shock has worn off and I am waking up. I seem to have a lot to say today, and thats probably good. Greta my therapist has been working with me to open stuff up so I can deal with it, and well now I'm open.
   My dad told me once about the way therapy works and about transference and how talking about things brings them into the present and how we then assign the responsibilty for some things to others, and how therapists become the target. And the good ones use this to get you to see yourself in the interaction of it. I like Greta and I think she is doing good so far, we havent solved anything, but I feel like I am moving again and will understand why I feel the way I do. Its not like I went crazy, or really felt like I needed help or anything, but my dad probably feels that his own grief would get in the way of supporting me as much as he thinks I need. He has known Greta for years and I think he goes to her for regular sessions. She says she knows my mom, although I dont think they were friends, but I bet my dad talked about her to her alot. It helps to have someone who is outside your life a bit and can observe and listen and then give gentle feedback or suggestions. Greta is good like that, she listens and doesnt judge, and gives me little tasks to do, like last time she asked me to find a person who was a bit down and find out why, and see what happened, and I tried it on a girl at school, and she started telling me all this stuff about her and her bf and how he was being a jerk and not paying attention to her but wanting her to pay attention to him. She talked for about 5 minutes and then sort of realized that she had been going on. I just smiled, cause I knew what greta was trying to show me. The girl was smiling and thanked me for listening to her, and seemed happy. She said she was going to tell her bf to pay more attention to her, or else. Meaning probably no sex.
   My mom was real good at this kind of thing, my dad said she could do magic. Ever since I was little, she could tell right away if anything was bugging me, and she would find somewhere to sit and get me talking, not about whatever it was, just talking, but pretty soon I'd be talking about whatever it was, even if I didnt know myself what was bugging me. And that would lead to talking about stuff when I was younger or stuff that happened before that, and after a while I would see how it all worked together to make things the way they were. I would see how I did something to make the current situation, and how I could change my mind about it, and it would disappear as an issue. She always fixed me like that, and then she would hug me and kiss me and usually give me a treat, like a popsicle or cookie when I was little, or later sometimes she would treat us to lunch somewhere or go shopping. It was magic, it was like she knew exactly how to get to the thing I wasnt seeing, and she did it so smooth and gentle and without ever judging me or making me feel stupid.
   Dad doesnt have the gift of healing peoples spirit or mind like that, and he knows it. Its not that he doesnt listen or help, but he is too analytical, he sees the steps of the problem, but not the soul of the person as much. Funny that he is like he is and works in mental health, but his job is more research. He says he helps people because he finds basic information about how minds work, and he does spend a lot of time listening to people and analysing it and he says it helps people just to have someone listen. He works with people who have had trauma in the military or wars. He is fascinated by how just a few seconds of someones life can change the way their mind works for the rest of their life even though they may not have any physical injuries.
   Mom knew most of my secrets. She didnt mind that I did things, she would just do her thing and I would always see how silly I had been or whatever, but it was like she enjoyed my experiences like they were a really good story, and fun and exciting and not bad even when they were. And now when I kind of feel broken she is not here. Guess its time for me to grow up.
  Wow I wrote alot today. I feel like maybe I will be happy again and have a future. I know that is what mom would want.

Gingerbread house

  Greta my therapist says it is good to talk and get stuff out, like I am doing here. She says we are all bipolar, sometimes we are all excited and gushing and sometimes quite and withdrawn and its just a balancing act we do to make life more exciting or work out problems. She says the label bipolar is more harmful than the disease! But the trick is to find the balance, and sometimes we need help. I asked her if she needs help, and she said shes good at balancing now, but thats because she is so old that she doent go to far one way or the other! Shes like in her 70's, and its amazing that we can even talk to each other like we do. I called this post gingerbread house because I think of Hansel and Gretal because of her name, Greta. And her office is in this old house in Napa that looks kind of gingerbready.
   Waffles were good. I had strawberry jam on mine, dad had syrup. My butt feels like its 2 inches bigger now and its still misty outside so no bike ride and I dont run. I was thinking of going shopping and taking dad with me, but I cant think of anything we need. Maybe I will say we need to go to costco and get toilet paper and supplies, thats like 25 miles each way and would kill the day and maybe dad would buy me lunch somewhere and it would be good. But I feel lazy and cozy too and so we'll see. He usually ends up buying something we dont need when we go there and shopping is therapy. Just having your mind off things is therapy.
  If I was feeling my old self I would try to get him to take me to the westfield on market street and make him buy me stuff at juicy of something, and then lunch somewhere cool and expensive. But I'm not ready for the stuff I used to want to do. Its like it would be disrespectful to mom to do some special treat thing. And I dont need and slutty clothes anyway. I think I'm wearing jeans and simple stuff for the rest of the year.


this would be fun, if I were just a bit thinner. I would rock this if you liked big butts and thighs.

    I dont know what it would be like to make my dad help me clothes shop. We would go into the city sometimes and shop, mom worked in the city a lot and knew it pretty good, but dad would to off and do his thing, maybe galleries or MOMA or something and even mom would get bored with clothes shopping. And we would meet for late lunch or maybe dinner and go home. I like the energy in the city, but I can see how it would get old real fast smelling the pee on the sidewalks and seeing the bums, and the noise, and traffic. Its a nice place to visit.
   Really its the people that make the city so interesting, SF has soooo many strange and wonderful humans. I like how the gay people make the atmosphere more open and stuff. Even the people who are not gay can be who they want and not be freaks. One time we went to the city and it was the love parade, and girls were in the parade and walking on the sidewalk topless. Derick was having trouble not staring and he was even sneaking pictures with his digital camera of girls. I didnt have the heart to tell him that they were probably lesbians and would bust his balls if he tried to even talk to them, or maybe beat him up if they didnt like having photos taken. Dad was pretending to not notice that he was so facinated with boobies, and mom was saying "oh look at that, shes topless". He has a girlfriend he is living with now so I hope he gets to see some close up enough that he wont have to stare now.
   Speaking of staring reminds me of another trip to the city the summer between junior and senior year, summer before this one, when me my then BOYfriend (as in little boy who wanted my BUTT but couldnt have it because he was too immature) and my friend and her boyfriend, (no names cause we all kinda kept it secret). I always wanted to go to burning man but mom said I was too young at 16 because of the drugs and sex there, but she let me drive into the city this time after I got my car and license, because she thought it would be good for me to learn to do stuff on my own. Of course I had to go with other people so I would be safe. What she didnt know was that I had planned this trip so that we could go to the beach, but not just any beach, but Baker beach, the place where burning man started! And where there is a nude beach too. Mom has always been cool with nudity, not that we did it at home, but sometimes I could tell that she had been skinny dipping in the pool when no one was home, because she didnt have a swim suit hung up to dry, but was just finished swimming.
   Anyway we drove to the city and if you know San Francisco, just after you cross the golden gate bridge, you can turn off into this old army fort, its all governent land with gun bunkers and stuff. and below the cliffs is a beach that faces out into the passage that goes through the golden gate, and one end of it is nude. We all agreed before hand to go there and try being nude. It was my idea and the guys seemed to like it and xxxx my friend, whos mother is big time into jesus would die if she found out, said she would do it if I would. I think she wanted to do it for her bf and to see him any my bf too.
   So we get there and walk way down the beach from the parking lot, past the normal beach to the nude area, and its cool because there are other women there nude! YaY!  And we find a spot neat some women and not too close to the main crowd, and lay out our towels and so I strip off real fast just to get it over with, and xxxx is slowly taking off one thing at a time and folding it and finally gets down to panties and bra and the guys are not doing anything! Just standing around and not even looking at us, or if they do being careful not to look down! Its too funny! I said come on boys get naked, but they say they want to make sure its safe and go check down the beach and ask some other guys and stuff, and they walk off leaving me naked and xxxx in underware, (which is move modest than her bikini would be!!!) Boys, little boys, afraid someone will see their weeny.
   So xxxx strips off too and we lay down on our fronts and kinda watch around and talk and stuff for a while till we notice that a few creepy old guys have just happened to wander near us and are taking looks and acting like they are all casual and stuff. Its like when you drop some food on the ground and the birds start to move near you hoping to get a treat! And a couple of these old guys are so tan that they must live naked, and one had a big ring around his stuff to make it stand up!  xxxx was starting to get a bit creeped and so was I because I think some of the guys were going to masturbate or something, but them the women near us got up and called out to a couple of the guys by name and told them to fuck off old pervs, and this seemed to wake them up and scare them!
   And then she gets up and comes over to us and introduces herself and her partner to us and starts a conversation. So you have to imagine her, shes a bit stocky, not chubby but more guy like with almost muscles, and shes all tatted up like a wall of grafitti and pierced too!  xxxx is just staring and cant talk because this woman has both nipples piecred and her labia and clit too!  She had 4 rings in a row on her labia and one bigger one going across her hood sideways. She saw xxxx staring and asked if she like the piecrings and I asked if it hurt. She said it did just for a few minutes when you get them, and then she spreads her labia open and taps the ring on her clit and says "but it feels so good later". Oh My God, a lesbian just showed me her clitoris and I'm laying naked in front of her and I think she is hitting on me, because she is acting like guys do when they want something, all nice and interested and polite. But I think her partner was getting jeleous and then the guys came back, so she went back to her towel.
   The guys said they didnt think it was a good idea for them to get naked because there were a lot of gay guys there and they didnt want gay guys to see them. ?????? WTF?? But I said we had a deal, either you get naked or we will say you were chicken. So they both dropped their shorts and took of their shirts and underware and were naked. I think they were embarassed too because it was kinda cool being at the ocean and their peniss were all shrunken up. They only stayed naked for a few minutes and then we all decided to move over to the normal beach because none of us were like having as much fun with being naked as we thought it would be. Maybe we though it would be like when we were little kids and ran around in the house after a bath or something. But we saw them and they saw us and we all agreed that we would never tell anyone about it. But I'm not using names here.
   We spent a few more hours on the normal beach and really had fun, and the guys were constantly checking us out now that we had our bikinis on. And a couple of times you could tell they got boners in their shorts too. Funny. Later we went and had an early dinner and got home before dark and xxxx's mom didnt have to die because her daugher was naked or anything. Me an my bf broke up later that year, but it was ok and we still like each other, it was just not the time in each others life for whatever. Hes still a bit of a little boy, going to school at UC Irvine, the OC and all and I am sure he is having fun there.

OK Gretta, are you proud of me. Big secrets revealed. I opened up and stuff. Mom are your reading this in heaven? Not that I believe in heaven! I am like my mom, having adventures. How will I raise my daughters? Sons? How will I do it with out you.

DAD lets get out of the house and do something.

Justin Bieber

Justin Bieber was in Sacramento last night. No I didnt go see him! I go home on weekends, but people say I look like him! At least he is cute, so I must be cute, but he is going to grow hair on his face someday and I hope I dont!

And no! I am not lesbian! But I am not so girly either. Sometimes I just dont want to play the game, hair makeup cute clothes. I dont care that much what you think, if you want to judge me by my looks, I'm probably not interested in you anyway! Dad says this is a sign of a healthy self image, but I dont know really. Its like what is my self image? I dont know who I am really. Sometimes I think I'm a littel clone of my mom, but no way do I have her confidence, and no way am I as brave about doing stuff as she was. I think I'm a good girl, too worried about what mommy and daddy will think if I do the stuff thats really in my heart and in my head.
   Mom and dad were sort of hippies when they were my age. Mom hitchhiked by herself when she was 15! Now days its sort of automatic that they find pieces of your body cut up in plastic bags if you are a girl and hitchhike, after of course you were raped. Mom went to europe by herself when she was 19. She said she slept in parks sometimes, and went to bars. Of course she came back and went to college and worked and wasnt doing drugs after that, but she did join a cult for a while.
   Dad was in the military before college, but he didnt go to vietnam. He said he was lucky. He did do drugs though, he said that he used LSD, and smoked weed. Way to 420 dad. He says it wasnt the best thing to do because it made life harder to be stoned. And he said LSD had permanent effects on his thinking. Both of them never said they would punish me if I tried drugs, but I could tell that they would be disappointed if I did. Dad deals with people who have problems with drugs sometimes and he says it is a dangerous way to deal with life. But he is in favor of making all drugs legal, even heroin and stuff. But just legal and not condoned. I dont understand how that would work. You need a prescription for antibiotics, but not for heroin?
   The stoners I know are plenty good reason not to go 420 anyway. I would get so fat eating the junk food they consume when they are high! I would wiegh 300 pounds! I'm chubby enough as it is, and I'm gaining right now too.  :(  I know why, and I need to ride my bike more, but I close to everything on campus, and drive home on weekends. I need to get my bike out on the road at home and ride really hard so that I am so tired that I sleep all night. But the rains have come to nor cal, its raining right now, and we have the fireplace going, and maybe I will make waffles. Maybe I will be 300 lbs anyway!
   Doesnt matter now anyway, I'm not in the mood for a relationship or even a hookup really. Can you imagine it? All I would do is talk about my mom and me and the poor guy would say whatever, and get up and leave. Its kinda a good think that I dont have a relationship right now, because I dont have the energy to give. And I'm kinda changing too from girl to woman, I feel like I have real problems now not kid problems, and guys dont want ANY problems! I think they want their mommys, but younger and with sex. I'm ok with the sex, but not the MOMMY. I need a man, when I am ready. Not now though.
   Officially I am a virgin. But its an "any thing but IT" virgin. (sorry daddy, truth is hard like yousay!) Ive pretty much done a lot, just not it. Well anal either!!! ewwwwwyuckewww. But I was asked! "please!? I will be so gentle, and you cant get pregnant". Yeah. Right. Like that makes me want to do THAT! Its not that I dont have a bit of freak in me, but youd really need to sweet talk me to get that! If you are reading this, we were just too young for anything. I want someone who I can be intimate with, share stuff that you wouldnt tell anyone else and have little secret looks with each other and trust completely and it just doesnt seem to happen when you are 16.
   Mom and dad used to have parties and dads friends were all like doctors and researchers and science people, and moms friends were artists and business owners and real casual people. She said it made the party dynamic to have different people. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it failed massivley. But I was thinking about intimacy and it reminded me of something that happend to me at this party they had. Dad and his friends were hanging in a bunch talking work things and not too many of moms friends were there yet, and I was playing moms little helper, being a hostess like person, and I was talking to one of moms friends who was a photographer in San Francisco, because no one else was. We were talking a lot, and it was like we had a lot in common and stuff, and he was acting like I was interesting, and he was interesting and we were laughing and stuff, and then a moment came when we both ran out of things to say for just a second and he sat there looking into my eyes and I was looking into his eyes, and we stayed like that for way longer than normal, and my heart started to beat real hard! It was like I saw his soul or something and he could see me. It was like I was naked in front of him and he could see the real me and me him. It was one of the most intense things I have EVER felt. And then my mom laughed across the room and the spell was broken  :(  and he looked away and said he had to circulate. My mom wasnt laughing at him, but I think it reminded him of who I was and who he was and where he was. Because he was 40 and I was 15, and he had 2 kids and an ex wife, and I was an underage kid of someone who he did work for. FUCK. I probably would have! That would be a mess! I think mom saw and knew too, she said later that I scared the pee out of him. And she never invited him to parties again. Although she was totally cool with me having that experience, and the crush that lasted for a while after! She understood that and honored it. She was so cool about honoring peoples feelings, it was like she would never make fun of stuff that was important to you even if it was stupid.
   God damn it I miss her. OK. Waffles.

:(   :)   (bipolar!)

Friday, October 22, 2010

far edge of seventeen

   I'll turn 18 in december and my mom died in september. My life has a big hole in it that growing older will not fill. Life goes on, I go to school, my dad works my brother and sister act like life is the same, but its not for me. When I get married and have babies my mom won't be there for me. When I have a bad week at school or a bad day or a bad class, I can't call her and cry. its not the same calling dad, he will try to give me advice and make it better, but thats not the same. Who can hug me the same and just shut up and listen, or just shut up and sit there with me like my mom.
   She had cancer and it happened so fast. We watched her die, in the room with her. Derick had to leave the room but shelly and dad and I sat with her and she sort of went to sleep, but we all knew she was gone. Shelly sobbed and dad was crying tears, and so did I, but I think I didnt cry enough and it will be with me for ever, needing to get something out.
  If you read this dont worry about me, I'm ok and all, its just I need to get stuff out. Dad is a rock, and I've got a therapist he knows whos real good. Shes like this crazy old lady, but she listens well and never tells me what to feel. Mom would have approved, even though mom had different ideas about mental health, than dad. Dad is a psychiatrist, and mom was a scientologist, and those two groups hate each other!
   But god did mom and dad love each other. Both of them treated the other like they were the best most important person in the world, they both thought the other was better than them in some way. I hope I get love like that in my life someday.
   My mom had sort of secrets, maybe not from my dad, but from everyone else. She talked about stuff on the internet with a fake name, she traveled for her work and didnt really talk about what she did, and had friends online that she talked about wierd shit with. I snooped. I think dad knew about it, but it seemed wrong to me. Its wierd seeing some secret side to your mom, sex feelings, outthere ideas about life, things I dont really understand. I mean living befroe and planning things for the next body you are going to live in? I mean I understand, but not really you know?
  I see a lot of me in my mom, its like she was still doing things that came from when she was younger, she wrote poetry that had sexual themes, she talked about stuff that was sort of basic girl stuff, stuff you'd think a woman of 50 would be so over. She said she was lonely, but how could she be lonely with us kids and dad and her business and all?
   Ok, I feel better tonight. Lindsy lohan on the edge of seventeen, because she sounds more desperate than the old version, kinda like me, and whos gona love you? because I need it.