"Trishamolson" <trishamolson@aol.com> wrote in message
news:20040614141337.04650.00000659@mb-m25.aol.com...

And I want to scream and cry hysterically and there is no place I can,

there is no one to whom I can turn and I really really don't know if I

do

this.

oh, how i understand this feeling. like you are inside of yourself and
trying to escape but completely unable to. and no one on the outside has

clue of the horrific battle going on on in the inside.

Going nuts working on this thesis -- you just can't gallop through Dante

at neck break pace, and put all these thinkers in proper context with

snap

of a finger . . . and the move is in four weeks, and I am so so behind

lesson plans which I MUST do starting tomorrow

this is a large part of your problem right now. the stress at having to
have all of this done. can you break it down into small manageable tasks
and get it done that way? and then reward yourself with a break or a soda
or a cookie (anything!) when each small task is done? even if it means
breaking down into 15 or 30 min segments. that is what i have to do. i

15 min at a time sometimes. because we can do ANY thing for 15 minutes.
and if you can make it 30, then 45, then an hour the next time, then

great.

, and I am a mess -- not pretty

to look at at all. . . And I am so so so tierd and physically weak, so

sick of

not being able to walk or move in simple fashion from a chair to the

shower.

i'm sorry that your situation makes movement so difficult. i can't

how you must feel in this regard. i admire the strength you show in just
getting through each and every day. i'm fully mobile (except for
fibromyalgia, which is nothing compared to what you face), and still i am

dreadfully weary each and every day. life is exhausting. just sitting
sometimes is exhausting. it's all one huge endurance race. at least

how it feels at times. we need to figure out a way to move past that
feeling.

perhaps if you forced yourself to shower or bathe every morning before

anything else, and then made yourself do your hair and put on makeup, then
maybe you'd feel better. sometimes that works for me. making myself more
attractive makes me feel a bit better. yet, i also understand that some
days you simply can't make yourself care HOW bad you look. it's all an
effort. each day requires endurance. we gotta keep fighting this

And I feel stupid and no matter how hard I fight it, and I do indeed

it,

I keep coming back to feeling that John simply broke me, burnt me, ate

up

and cracked my bones and twisted my brain and ripped my soul to pieces

. .

.here I am . . . a wreck that can never never spring like the Phoneix

the

fire.

and he wins. each time you do this, he wins. it serves no purpose,
thinking this way. you won because you have maria. you won because you

away from him and don't have to endure his cruelty anymore. don't let him
win by constantly telling yourself that he broke you. he couldn't do that
without your permission. you've got to stop allowing him that much

over you!!

I allowed this. I did not stop him. I was arrogant about my strength,

superior

about my understanding of socio-pathy, and I got what I deserved. And

I am

a broken splintered china cup that can never be glued back to its

state.

maybe you didn't stop him, but you can stop him now. he can't have this
much power over you without your say-so. so STOP SAYING SO!!!! tell
yourself that you are better off without him. that you were blessed to

had him in your life if for no other reason than he gave you maria. tell
yourself he's gone from your life now. dumped out like yesterday's trash.
even if you have to tell yourself this a million times, keep doing so

you believe it. he's trash and he can't hurt you anymore. it's up to

it's not his decision anymore to keep hurting you. it's all up to YOU.

I do not wish anyone -- anyone to take her or his life, but in my case,

firmly believe that I do not primarily because I am a coward and unable

face

the truth -- to confront it with a steady gaze -- I have become trash.

maybe it's because there is a part of you that refuses to die. a part

won't give up. that's what you need to tell yourself instead of this lie
that you are trash. you are NOT trash. there are a million reasons that
you aren't trash (you are a good mom, an incredible thinker, an amazing
writer and teacher...etc, etc). those are the things you need to focus on
instead. telling yourself that you are trash accomplishes nothing except

drag you down further into the pit. maybe you can tell yourself you

like trash, but do NOT allow yourself to say that you ARE trash. there is

big difference. feelings are just that. reality is what you need to

on instead. acknowledge your feelings, and then move on to what is real

what isn't.

Gawd I feel so so bad for Maria. She really is special and so much

deserves a

mama she can be proud of and feel secure with.

this part, i also understand. my heart breaks at the pain i've caused my
girls. at the genetic flaws i have passed on to my oldest daughter. my
other 2 don't show any tendencies of severe depression yet, but they are
still young and still might. but we have to also concentrate on our good
qualities and accept the fact that we are doing the best we can. yes, our
children deserve more. but as long as we are alive, we can keep trying to
give that to them.

keep hanging in there, rosena. i'm counting on you.

always,

u2b

On 14 Jun 2004 18:13:37 GMT,

Going nuts working on this thesis -- you just can't gallop through

at neck break pace, and put all these thinkers in proper context with the

of a finger . . .

Rosena

Sure you can, put all these great thinkers in proper context.
Use the new Thesis Writer Deluxe v.8 ...
(with new anti fraud detection algorithm)
All the suffering, half the time,
especially after submitting output. <g

I wondered who was this Beatrice you've mentioned.
I've been looking at Paget Toynbee's Dante Alighieri, His Life and
Works.

best wishes on the process

K-9