Why the other dog went to live with a new family.

He has bitten through and completely severed a main drip line hose, and then tore up all the drip lines.

He has torn out nearly every single piece of weed fabric.

he's dug several holes in 30-year-old sod.

He runs around in circles, barking at FUCKING NOTHING.  he wakes up my retired neighbors doing this. 

He's friendly to all intruders.

He's torn out all the water plants in the pond, disrupting the pH, which caused a fish die-off.

He's chewed a large hole in the side of a wooden shed. You know, because that nice dog door we put in was such a fucking drag.

He's cost us hundreds in attempts to keep him from running amok in the neighborhood.

I started watching Bordertown this weekend.  I wasn't expecting that first scene, the one where they strangeled the woman to death.  It's pretty detailed.  It's pretty graphic.  It's pretty fucking realistic.  

It's not something I needed to see.  As I sit here, I can feel the hands around my neck.  My neck feels constricted.

I didn't know about this scene.  I shouldn't have watched.  I don't know how this will affect my sleep tonight.  I don't know if I'm going to wind up having another panic episode.  

A month ago, I watched the Stoning of Soroya M.  I didn't know that was so graphic, but I figured I was safe because it didn't have anything to do with me.  The next  day, I had a panic attack.  

Next week, my trauma work begins.  I'm not sure how it will be done.  I don't know what to expect.  

...

Crooked, lazy motherfucker workers.

After our house was broken into in February, our company hired a guy to fix our broken door.

-------

Last week a guy was supposed to show up to bury our cable.  The first technician had carefully hidden it in a crack in the sidewalk the first Friday in April.  He put the cable out of the way, and wound it through a flower bed along a wall until that could happen.  They would, he said, call me and make an appointment co come out.  s

The following Tuesday morning a man who had a great deal of difficulty understanding me called and said he was at my house to bury my cable.  "I can't come home now," I said.  I didn't need to, he insisted.  "Oh, will you then take care of my dogs so that they don't go through the gate?"

He hesitated.  "When can you be here?"

Friday, after 5, I said.  Okay, he said, he would see me then.

When I got home that night, a spool of conduit was sitting in my flower bed, and the cable had been pulled up and stretched across the drive way.

Friday, I was here at 4:45.  No phone call.  Nobody showed up.

Monday morning I called and complained, and was told that the order was showing as "fulfilled".  "No, it is not fullfilled.  He didn't show up."  I had to call, by the way, because they refuse to acknowledge emails.  You have to call on the phone, or use their hideous "chat" feature, which involves somebody on the other end whose name is NOT Julie and how repeats the same phrases over and over again,, stuff like "I see that you are upset that your cable is not buried.  We apologize for any inconvenience".

They rescheduled for Friday after 4:30.

Thursday morning at 8:15 am the same guy who can't understand me called and said he was at my house to bury the cable.  I told him that I had an appointment for Friday at 4:30.  He said that he didn't work that late, and he was the only person who could bury the cable in Albuquerque.  That's what he said.  Nobody else does it, he said.  I said, well, "I have an appointment with Comcast for Friday after 4:30.  I need to be there to mind the dogs."  He thanked me and hung up.

Friday at 5:00 pm I hit redial on my button and called him back, and asked him when he was coming.  He informed me that he was in Santa Fe and that there would be another crew coming since there was an appointment.  I asked him, how can there be another crew when he was the 'only person who could bury the cable'?  No, he said, there are other crews.  Another crew would be here.

Friday at 6:15 I started using their hideous chat function and was repeatedly apologized to in the exact same words by someone in some unknown place that I don't think is capable of higher level thought and problem solving.  She said the appointment had been canceled.  "NO" I typed all in capitals "IT WAS NEVER CANCELED.  I WANT SOMEONE OUT HERE TO FIX THIS.  STOP APOLOGIZING FOR MY INCONVENIENCE AND TELL ME HOW YOU'RE GOING TO FIX THIS."

She reset the appointment for 8 am, an all day appointment.
Wait, I typed back, Does this mean that I have to wait here all day?  She responded, It means that it starts at 8.

Which, of course, I stupidly took to mean that they would start work at 8 am.

I called the local office at 8:30.  "Oh, no," I was told.  "The drop bury order is for between 8 am and 7 pm"

Fuckers.

I have decided that if they don't show up, I'm not calling again. I'll cable as is until it fails, and then I'm switching to another company.  It's tucked among the bushes again, and it doesn't rain here too often, so who knows how long that will be?

Meanwhile, I've clearly missed my calling.  I should have been a cable "drop and bury" technician.  they apparently don't ever have to work and can arbitrarily cancel appointments without anyone calling them on it.

Oh. And the Saturday guy never showed up. Nobody was able to tell me why.

..

Happy spring.  I think today is Easter, but my kids don't live here and so I don't have any reference for keeping track of christian holidays.

I think I've gotten a handle on my panic attacks.  Now I'm just working on worrying in general.  Like right now.  I'm supposed to get up and go work out, but I just don't feel like going.  Bleh.

I'll work on it some more.

Second Thoughts

I think I made a big mistake getting those dogs.  I've lost all the freedom I gained when the kids grew up and left.  No more can I go workout in the mornings; I have to walk and feed the dogs.  We can't just take off for the weekend.  We have to get someone to watch them.  No sleeping in.

The windows and doors in the back are smeared with muddy paw prints.  They're torn up sprinkler heads and door mats.  They're tearing up the landscaping I worked so hard on  - tearing up the weed fabric, tearing out the drop lines, they chew on fucking everything.

Oh, and I think it's safe to say I'm also really sick of the smell of dog shit.

No title, working or otherwise.

Yesterday I went off, venting about how tired I was.  I'd spent 5 or 6 hours cleaning, particularly the kitchen, and I was exhausted.  I'd finally reached the point where I realized I can't do it all--I can't train for an Ironman, I can't go to graduate school, and I can't work full time.  It just won't happen.  And I was pissed because the kitchen was filthy and I felt like I was the only one who cared about how clean the house was.

I probably shouldn't have done that because then I got an earful of why everything is my fault.  And you know what?  It is. I was the one who quit a steady paying job.  I'm the one who can't seem to get a decent' paying one since.  I'm the one who parked my car in an alley so that it was broken into.  I'm the one who left the security door open so that we were burglarized.  It is all, indeed, all my fault.

This is the first time I've felt so much like a complete and utter failure.  How nice to know he thinks so, too.

The worst thing is that I can't even kill myself.  I don't have any life insurance, so it would just be an added expense.  I just have to go on living every single day knowing what I've done to devastate us financially.  It's all I think about.  There's no relief.    

...

Wednesdays with Nan

er than what we've talked about, you know, being hindered and late and trapped, unable to get home, what kinds of things make you uncomfortably nervous? 

Uh, how much time have you got?

• When my partner is cranky.
• When my partner talks about how bad our financial situation is - I start blaming myself for being out of work last year.
• When I think about not making a cutoff, or deadline.
• When something goes wrong at work, even if its not my fault.
• When someone looks at me funny.
• When I take a test.
• When my boss wants to talk to me. 
• Sometimes I just get a funny feeling that I've done something wrong, but I don't know what, and something terrible will happen, and it will be all my fault.

How do you deal with the nervousness?

Well, you now, I try talking to myself and telling myself, "this isn't your fault, you haven't done anything wrong, you don't need to fix this, et cetera," but it doesn't help much.  Even himself, he tells me to stop worrying about trying to make him feel better, he gets moody, it's not my fault.  Inside me, I know this, but there's that awful feeling, still. 

I keeping hearing a repeating theme: you worry that things are your fault.  When you're feeling nervous, what goes through your mind?

It's my fault.  It's all my fault.  I've done something wrong.  Now I have to fix it.  Or, if there's nothing concrete, but I feel like something bad is about to happen, then I have to stop it from happening.

Fix it?

Well, you know, growing up I was always the smart kid, and I had it pretty easy, so but I had trouble focusing a lot, paying attention, sitting still.  I was a hyper little shit.  My dad usually would say, or not say, but sort of indicate, that there's no reason why I shouldn't have straight As, or have a clean room, or dress appropriately, or any of the stuff that he hated.  So I always had this feeling, you know, like there must be something wrong with me.  He used to say, "You dont' apply yourself.  You're not trying hard enough." 

So you feel like you have work harder to make it all right.

Yes.  And you know, I mean, like my first husband, he would come home and I would try to read his face. Will this be a good day?  A bad day?  because I mean, if it was a bad day, I was better off just going to bed.  If it was a bad day, I was going to get hit, or shoved, or thrown, at some time during that night, even if I did nothing at all.  

So you were always kind of watching out for what might go wrong .

Yes.  And you know, I know it's rediculous.  I mean, I have some insight - in my own practice, I see this kind of behavior in people who have grown up with parents who rage, or are alcoholics...they grow up with this constant desperation to try to ease, soothe, fix.  So I know it's wrong . But no matter what my self-talk is, the feeling won't go away, the worry, the dread.

So in your day, what percentage of time would you say you spend worrying about these types of things.

In my waking day?  Well, let's see.  I'm awake about 16 hours, I guess, so maybe, between 20 and 25%.

I'm going to give you something - it's a picture of the response of the body during a panic phase . I want you to study it, and we'll talk about it next week.  I'm also giving you some questions to ask yourself when you find yourself worrying.  Fill these in, and we'll talk about those next week. 

...

I also want you to study these questions to ask yourself when you worry.