ADMIN PASSWORD: Remember Me

Ondine
She's got everything she needs, She's an artist, she don't look back. She's got everything she needs, She's an artist, she don't look back. She can take the dark out of the nighttime And paint the daytime black. --Bob Dylan


Echoes

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My therapy was filled with woe, today. I just cried and cried over Joe, confessing I haven't called Foothills because I don't want him to go to school. I don't want him out of my sight because I am afraid he will die. I did everything right with him, co-op nursery schools, helping in his classes, breast feeding, never spanking him, always there for him, always there. And yet he is this sick. I could have snorted cocain and dropped him on his head. It wouldn't have made a difference.

He asked me to sit in on his session with Doctor Mik. We were discussing anger--Joe for me, me for him. Neither of us can express much in that area. I had an epiphany. I've always been able to get mad at Angela. She's always been able to take it and give it back. But not Joe.

I remembered when I was a child, I'd watch my mother yell at my sister, Rita. I'd watch with huge eyes and vow to never be naughty. I could not see myself surviving without my mother, and I was certain she'd leave if I got her mad at me. Anger and mischief were luxuries I could not afford.

I think Joe's done the same thing. He watched me with Angela, and decided it wasn't worth the risk. Even though Angela and I are close and the anger never lasts. He just couldn't risk it, cause from early on, I was it, as my mother was for me.

Things were better after the sessions, but I am tired.

I am going to San Francisco, this weekend, with Dennis. I need some time to just drive and talk, listen to music. Be.

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